Breaking the Governess’s Rules (7 page)

‘It is a long-standing argument,’ Louisa said quickly.

‘Miss Sibson and I used to enjoy such arguments,’ Jonathon said with a teasing glint in his eye. ‘She was quite notorious for her skill with … words.’

‘Miss Sibson was renowned for her wit in Sorrento as well,’ Lord Furniss said, hooking his thumbs into his waistcoat. ‘For my part, I always think of the right words precisely five minutes after I have left a gathering.’

‘My poor tongue is feeble compared to the late Matilda Elliot’s.’ Louisa ducked her head as her insides churned. She had been wrong to give in to that impulse.

‘Come, come, Miss Sibson, false modesty does you few favours,’ Jonathon said. ‘Your remarks were often repeated when you were in my stepmother’s employ.’

Louisa fought against a tide of red heat that threatened to engulf her face and banished it. It was up to her whether or not Jonathon discomforted her. Her choice, not his. She gulped a breath of air and met his gaze full on. ‘I rarely think about that time. It was far from the happiest period in my life.’

‘Indeed.’ His eyes became glacial ice. ‘It is always pleasant to discover the truth of the situation. I regret that you spent one moment of unhappiness.’

Quietly Louisa consigned Jonathon Fanshaw to the hottest room in Hell. He regretted nothing. He had come here to torment her. He probably intended to make it his mission in life. Well, he’d learn that the new Louisa played by a different set of rules. ‘It was a long time ago. I have put it from my mind.’

Jonathon lifted an eyebrow, as if he were inviting the next round. Louisa gave a slight shake of her head and turned her body towards Lord Furniss.

‘What do you think of Newcastle, Lord Furniss? Does it meet with your expectations?’

‘Very much so.’ Lord Furniss made a low bow towards her. ‘The day is brighter for having seen you and my aunt.’

Jonathon began to rapidly speak of the latest John Martin exhibition in London to Mrs Blandish, asking Lord Furniss to comment as he had seen it.

‘The discussion about John Martin should divert their attention,’ Jonathon’s low voice rumbled in her ear. ‘It is a topic of conversation to keep everyone entertained, but not you, I think. You never did care for painting.’

‘You know nothing about me.’ Louisa took a sip of her lukewarm coffee. ‘I happen to enjoy John Martin’s paintings.’

Jonathon pressed his lips together. ‘You do?’

‘I have changed, Jonathon.’

His eyes searched her face. ‘Not that much. You only think you have. And I have only done what your eyes implored me to do—rescue you from Furniss and divert the conversation.’

‘I happen to like Lord Furniss’s company. Why should
I want attention diverted?’ Louisa asked between gritted teeth.

‘Our conversation last evening is far from finished,’ Jonathan said, looking down at her with hard eyes. ‘I wait with baited breath, Louisa. Where is your infamous proof? I had fully expected it to land on my breakfast table while you took the first boat out of Newcastle back into the arms of your aged baronet.’

The words stung far more than they should.

‘All things come to those who wait.’

His voice lowered to a seductive and intimate growl, which made her insides curl with warmth. ‘I devotedly hope so.’

‘You are attempting to disconcert me.’

‘Perish the thought.’ His eyes deepened. ‘My only desire at the moment is for a cup of tea.’

‘It is good that your desires are easily satisfied’ Louisa said before wincing. Open mouth, insert kid slipper.

‘As long as you satisfy them.’ The banter was gone from his voice.

Louisa hurriedly looked away and concentrated on pouring the tea. In her haste, she knocked a spoon to the ground and then sent the sugar bowl flying—the actions of a flustered débutante rather than a companion of several years’ standing. Miss Daphne gave a mildly disapproving stare from where she sat, but made no move to intervene.

‘Are you disturbed about something, Miss Sibson?’ Jonathon asked, taking the cup and then placing the sugar bowl back on the little table. ‘You appear flustered.
But everything is quickly put to rights once one sets one’s mind to it.’

‘Should anything disturb me, Lord Chesterholm?’ Louisa poured another cup of tea. This time, she managed to keep her hand steady.

‘Such action could be construed as a guilty conscience.’

‘I do have proof, Lord Chesterholm.’ Louisa reached for the reticule. ‘My conscience is clear.’

‘Why didn’t you wave the proof under my nose when I walked in the room? The Louisa I knew would have done. Wasn’t that what you did with my sister’s poem? But then the action was to pique my interest. And this one is …’

The old Louisa. Louisa gritted her teeth. She too remembered that day and what had happened after-wards—their first kiss, a stolen kiss. It was low of Jonathon to bring it up, particularly now. And she had not been flirting with him. He had simply assumed that she did not have anything else to do except answer his impertinent questions about how pretty girls could ever have serious thoughts in their brains. And she had shown him the papers. She had mistaken flirtation for kindness, a silly naïve mistake, and had paid a heavy price.

‘I would, but Mrs Blandish is addicted to gossip and her hearing is very acute.’ Louisa nodded towards where Lord Furniss was rather grandly informing Miss Blandish that she was completely wrong to consider Turner a better painter than John Martin. ‘I would hardly wish to involve you in scandal.’

‘It makes a first. As far as I recall you courted it. You were an active participant in our little games.’

‘Any scandal that happened was down to your actions and not mine,’ Louisa whispered in a furious undertone. ‘I behaved impeccably.’

He leant forwards. ‘Or are you merely mouthing words without understanding the implications, Louisa? You played your part as much as I did.’

‘I grew up.’ Louisa batted her eyelashes and made her voice sound as much like treacle as possible. ‘Trials and tribulations have a way of doing that to people.’

‘We are at an impasse, Louisa. Why not accept that I do have a claim and come away with me?’

‘Must you sound like a villain in a penny novel?’

‘Why are you casting me as one?’ A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘Shall I force you to be alone with me? Or are you scared about what you might discover? When shall it be? This afternoon?’

‘Unfortunately, I must decline.’ Louisa kept her voice even. ‘I must visit the chemist later this afternoon. Miss Daphne finished her tincture this morning. And without Miss Daphne’s tincture, the world stops.’

‘Ah, our old code.’ Jonathon’s eyes deepened to a storm-tossed green. ‘Shall we meet inside the chemist? What shall I say that I am searching for? A hair restoration tonic?’

Louisa’s stomach tightened. She should have remembered about the code and the visit to the chemist for a hair restoration tonic. How they accidentally met to have a proper conversation. And the other times she had pretended to have to get more ink or blotting paper so that she’d get a glimpse or stolen moment with him as he solemnly carried her packages.

She had thought at the time that the code and the
meetings made what they shared more special—keeping it private and between the two of them. But now she saw it for what it was—a means to keep the relationship clandestine until it was far too late for anyone to intervene. And when it had ended, she had been ruined, in the gutter, but he had remained a pillar of society.

‘You are misconstruing my words and their meaning.’

‘Am I?’ He raised his eyebrow higher and she felt the heat begin to gather on her cheeks.

‘Yes, I sought to explain why it would be impossible to meet.’ Louisa regained control of her body. She refused to be attracted to him. ‘I will send you the letter. There will be no need to meet after that. I will return to Sorrento and our lives will go on as before, our paths never crossing.’

‘A forlorn hope, Miss Sibson,’ Jonathon said. ‘You will not get rid of me that easily.’

‘Watch me.’

‘A challenge.’ He put his tea cup down. ‘Good. I love it when you issue challenges. Watch and learn, Miss Sibson. Afterwards, and in private, we can discuss how easy I will be to dissuade.’

Louisa shifted slightly on the sofa, feeling that she had played into his hands.

‘Miss Elliot,’ Jonathon said, giving a loud cough.

The entire room went still. ‘Yes, Lord Chesterholm?’

Silently Louisa prayed that Jonathon was not going to do anything untoward, not with Mrs Blandish in the room.

‘I understand that you spent some time in the Kingdom of Two Sicilies. Did you manage to collect any
Roman cameos? My late great-uncle had a collection and, since his death, I have developed an interest and I am eager to learn more.’

Louisa stared at Jonathon. Since when had he become interested in cameos? He had been far more interested in racing and placing bets, living the life of an overly indulged son. She doubted if he could even name any of the Roman emperors.

‘My sister was a keen collector. It was how we first met Arthur Fanshaw.’ Miss Daphne waved an arm. ‘I am afraid I did not have the head for it. All Latin and Greek. Louisa is the woman to speak to about such things. In her last years, my late sister relied on Louisa’s eye.’

‘Miss Mattie and I travelled to inspect the diggings at Pompeii and Herculaneum.’ Louisa’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Jonathon had miscalculated. She could easily turn the talk to her travels. The days she and Miss Mattie had spent in Pompeii with Mount Vesuvius gently billowing smoke in the background had been some of the most pleasant of her life.

‘Are the ruins as good as they say?’ Miss Nella Blandish asked, sticking her face between Louisa and Jonathon. ‘Miss Milton told me all about them. How you can walk the streets. And how they have put the skeletons that they found in various places just as they would have been.’

‘With Herculaneum, you have to descend stairs and go underground,’ Louisa said, expounding on the theme. A few more minutes and the allotted time for a visit would be up. Jonathon would be forced to make his excuses and leave. ‘The guides carry torches. But Pompeii is exactly like walking a deserted street. They say
that there’s over a hundred years of digging to be done. Miss Mattie found several pieces for her collection there, including a very lovely Psyche.’

‘And are they here?’ Jonathon asked, breaking into the conversation. ‘Or have they remained in Sorrento? I have heard rumours about certain Roman cameos that she might have had in her possession. I believe she outbid my late uncle on one or two pieces.’

‘Oh, yes, my sister did enjoy besting your late uncle!’ Miss Daphne clapped her hands. ‘And you are clever to guess that Louisa brought a few pieces with her, including the Herculaneum ones. Not the whole collection, just a few to show honoured guests.’

‘And Miss Sibson is now the expert.’ Jonathon wore a superior expression. ‘She knows the ins and outs … of the cameos.’

Louisa’s next remark about the delights of Pompeii died on her lips as Miss Daphne started frantically gesturing to her. ‘I will show the collection to Lord Chesterholm, Miss Daphne.’

‘That would be a good idea,’ Miss Daphne murmured with an approving glint in her eye.

‘May I come as well?’ Miss Nella Blandish asked. ‘I am going to be a lady explorer. Some day I am going to find a lost city. It will be much more interesting than being in society and marrying some stupid titled peer as Susan wants to.’

Mrs Blandish blanched. ‘No, Nella, you can stay here with me. You have done quite enough exploring for one summer. We had best be going. Susan will be attending the Assembly Rooms ball this evening and must make her preparations. Are you going, Miss Sibson?’

‘I am otherwise engaged … with the study of the cameos,’ Louisa said, banishing all thoughts of how Jonathon had once taught her to waltz.

‘Some other time. And the gentlemen?’

‘A pity that I am otherwise engaged,’ Lord Furniss said with a bow.

‘I shall be returning to Chesterholm in the morning and wish to make an early start.’ Jonathon looked directly at her. ‘Provided nothing detains me.’

‘I once went to Chesterholm as a young girl. It is a magical place with a Cedar of Lebanon in the centre of a maze,’ Miss Daphne proclaimed after the Blandishes had departed.

‘I was unaware you had a direct connection to Chesterholm, Miss Elliot,’ Jonathon said with an astonished look.

‘The cameos. You wished to see the collection,’ Louisa said quickly as she spotted a deepening gleam in Miss Daphne’s eye.

‘Louisa, be quick about showing Lord Chesterholm the cameos. Rupert, I want to speak to you about your mother’s letters.’ Miss Daphne made an irritated sound. ‘Honoria has written to me again about candles! I am not a blushing school miss to be reprimanded. I was once though, years ago when we went to Chesterholm. I suppose I shall never see Chesterholm again.’

Louisa sucked in her breath at the blatant attempt at securing an invitation. What was Miss Daphne doing? Not cause scandal, but matchmake. Miss Daphne had always proclaimed she was a dab hand at it. Louisa concentrated on the pug figurine. Any matchmaking
tendencies had to be nipped in the bud. But she would redirect Miss Daphne’s attention later, after Jonathon had departed, chagrined and chastened.

‘This way, if you please, Lord Chesterholm.’ Louisa made a flourish with her hand. ‘The cameos I brought with me are in the library. It is reckoned to be as fine as any collection of cameos in Sorrento, if not the Kingdom of Two Sicilies.’

‘I await the collection with eagerness. My uncle felt the loss of a “Psyche undergoing her trials” cameo to Miss Mattie with particular keenness.’

‘I hadn’t realised you were interested in Roman remains, Lord Chesterholm,’ Louisa said as they started down the passage towards the library.

‘Chesterholm lies beside a Roman fort. Unfortunately, my late uncle had the remains of the Roman village swept away. He wanted an uninterrupted view down to the Tyne.’

‘And you disapprove.’

‘I have an interest in preserving the ancient. I am hoping to prove that the wall was indeed built by Hadrian.’