The Baron's Governess Bride (4 page)

* * *

What was the use of having a governess who looked strict and severe if she meant to let the girls do whatever dangerous thing they fancied? Rupert stalked out of his daughters’ nursery, not certain who he was more vexed with—Phoebe or Grace Ellerby.

When he first arrived to see how the new governess was getting on, he’d been pleasantly surprised to discover a cozy domestic scene with her reading his daughters a bedtime story. For a moment he’d felt almost guilty for his vague suspicions and tried to justify his presence with an excuse that fooled no one.

Phoebe’s abrupt return had changed all that. Clearly he’d been right in his doubts about Miss Ellerby after all.

Hearing the nursery door close behind them, he swung around to confront the new governess. “What on earth possessed you to let my daughter run off to the stables at this hour?”

He expected her to offer some excuse for her actions, which he could refute, going back and forth until he’d relieved his feelings and impressed upon Miss Ellerby the error of her ways.

But she refused to be drawn.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Keeping her mouth set in a tight line, she avoided his direct gaze. “I didn’t realize… I can assure you, it will not happen again.”

“It certainly must not.” Rupert felt daft repeating himself but he could not help it. Miss Ellerby’s flat apology had denied him the desired opportunity to vent his feelings. “Stables can be dangerous places. Horses are large, unpredictable beasts and you may have noticed that Phoebe tends to be impulsive and heedless. Without proper supervision, she could be badly injured.”

Miss Ellerby made no effort to deny it but accepted his rebuke with sullen self-restraint that made him suspect she was well accustomed to censure. That thought nearly silenced him but he had more that needed to be said. “My daughter’s physical safety is not the half of it. There may be an even greater threat to her future reputation if she makes a habit of such behavior. Today it was a harmless spat with a stableboy. Five years hence it could be altogether more serious.”

That possibility had never occurred to Miss Ellerby. Rupert could tell by the way she flinched when he mentioned it. Subtle though her reaction was, it somehow satisfied him that he had impressed upon her the gravity of her lapse in judgment.

The instant he was certain of that he began to have second thoughts. Had he been wrong to rebuke the new governess? It was a serious matter, but this was only her first day. Besides, he had not given her any clear instructions as to what was expected of her. He’d assumed that with her years of experience she would know better than he what she should do. Now he found himself questioning whether that was fair.

Still Miss Ellerby remained mute.

While Rupert tried to think what to say next, the nursery door swung open and Phoebe charged out. She was clad in her nightdress with her hair sloppily braided for the night.

“What are you doing out here, young lady?” He tried to maintain a frosty frown, but she looked so much younger than her years just then. “As I recall, you were ordered to bed.”

“No, I wasn’t,” she replied in a tone that was not insolent, only stating a plain fact. “Miss Ellerby said I should put on my nightclothes, which I did. Neither of you forbade me to come out here. Since you’re talking about me, I reckon I
should
be here.”

“What makes you so certain we’re talking about you?” Rupert demanded.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. “You have been, though, haven’t you?”

She had him there. Rupert shuddered to think what a formidable adversary she might become in another few years—a proper little rebel over whom he might have no control. “If you have been the subject of our conversation, that is between Miss Ellerby and me. You must get to bed at once.”

The child stood her ground. “It wasn’t Miss Ellerby’s fault that I ended up in the stables. I didn’t ask her permission. I just told her I was going and went. I’ve been going out to bid Jem good-night for weeks now, even before Mademoiselle went away.”

Rupert almost staggered. Phoebe’s imprudent behavior had been going on all this time without him ever suspecting? He was torn between indignation at the former governess and vexation with himself for having permitted it to happen.

“What on earth possessed Mademoiselle Audet to let you do that?” Once the question was out of his mouth, he realized it was the same one he’d put to Miss Ellerby a few moments ago. She’d remained so quiet and still since his daughter’s sudden appearance he had almost forgotten she was there.

“I knew something about Mademoiselle,” Phoebe admitted in a guilty mutter. “I saw her once on her half day, meeting that man—the one she ran away to marry.”

“You blackmailed your governess?” This was far worse than he’d expected.

“I didn’t!” Phoebe insisted. “I wouldn’t have tattled on her the way Charlotte does. I didn’t even know she was doing something she oughtn’t. But after that she let me do whatever I wanted.”

Could he believe her? Recent events had shaken his faith in womankind, even his young daughter. What else had been going on in the Nethercross nursery without his knowledge?

“I have heard quite enough.” With a flick of his hand he gestured toward the nursery door. “To bed with you, young lady. I will deal with you later.”

The child’s lips set in a rebellious frown, but a look of hurt flickered in her eyes. Eyes so much like Annabelle’s that he could not bear to glimpse such an expression in them.

“Miss Ellerby shouldn’t be in trouble,” she muttered as she retreated toward the nursery. “It was my fault and Mademoiselle’s…and Peter’s, the wretch.”

Before her father could bid her away again, she slipped through the door and closed it behind her, leaving him alone with Miss Ellerby. Though the governess did not move or speak, her silent reproach threatened to deafen him.

He drew in a deep breath and forced out the words fairness demanded he speak. “It seems I was hasty and harsh in my judgment. I owe you an apology, Miss Ellerby.”

She gave a shallow shrug that seemed to accept both his apology and his earlier rebuke. “I should not have let her go, sir, for all the reasons you mentioned.”

Her forbearance should have made him feel less ashamed of the way he’d spoken…but it did not. Quite the opposite in fact. He pictured himself as the cruel tyrant in one of Sophie’s stories. It was not a role he relished. “I should not have expected you to remedy a situation that appears to have been going on for quite some time right under my nose.”

Miss Ellerby flicked a brief glance up at him as if she did not believe what she was hearing. Was it so difficult for her to accept that he was capable of offering an apology when it was so clearly warranted?

“It was wrong of me,” he continued, “to assume you would know what I expect of you when we have never discussed the matter.”

“It would help to know what the girls are permitted to do,” she agreed, “and what they are not.”

Somehow, that made him feel better. It might provide him with an opportunity to make up for his unfairness. “In a fortnight, the new session of Parliament begins and I shall be obliged to go to London during the week. It is vital that we are quite clear about my expectations before then. Come down to the drawing room tomorrow evening after you have put the girls to bed and we can discuss the matter.”

“As you wish, sir,” she replied.

But behind those thick, ugly spectacles, her eyes widened as if he had proposed something improper, even dangerous. But that was ridiculous. He must have misinterpreted her expression just as he had misjudged her actions.

This new governess was an exceedingly puzzling creature. Perhaps a meeting or two between them would help him understand her a little better, in addition to helping her understand what he expected of her. “I do wish it, Miss Ellerby. In fact, I insist. For the sake of my daughters, I believe it is vital that we confer.”

He made a polite bow. “Until tomorrow evening, then.”

As he strode away, she called after him in a quiet but insistent voice. “I beg your pardon, sir.”

Rupert halted and turned on his heel.

“Yes?” He could not fully conceal his impatience. He wanted to put this whole awkward evening behind them as soon as possible.

“I thought you wanted to hear the girls’ prayers.”

Behind her dour facade, he sensed Miss Ellerby might be having a secret chuckle at his expense. Tempted as he was to resent it, Rupert had to admit he deserved it.

* * *

As she watched Lord Steadwell hearing his daughters’ prayers, Grace strove to make sense of what had happened in the past half hour.

She had fully expected Lord Steadwell’s rebuke for letting Phoebe run off to the stables right before bed. Though she wanted to excuse herself on account of her exhaustion and her uncertainty about how much freedom her new pupils were permitted, she knew she had made a serious lapse in judgment. A lapse for which her employer had every right to be vexed.

So she had done what she’d learned to do at school whenever one of her teachers scolded her for vanity or laziness or disobedience. She accepted the criticism in meek silence, heeding as much of it as she could bear in an effort to improve herself. But when it got to be more than she could absorb without breaking down in tears, she had imagined herself encased in a thick sheath of alabaster, which nothing could penetrate to harm her. It muffled the words until they became nothing more than a rumble of noise without any meaning.

She’d soon discovered it was more difficult to reduce Lord Steadwell’s voice to a harmless babble. Its pitch and timbre were so very agreeable that she found herself compelled to listen carefully, even when she could not expect to hear anything good.

Phoebe’s sudden appearance had jarred Grace out of her protective trance. The last thing she’d ever expected was for that willful girl to come to her defense at the risk of incurring her father’s wrath. It reminded her of the times at school when Marian or Rebecca had stood up for her, deflecting the spiteful anger of the teachers. It made her feel worthy of something better than blame and belittlement.

Yet, as much as Phoebe’s behavior had surprised her, Lord Steadwell’s reaction amazed her even more. Upon hearing what Phoebe had to say, he had not only been diverted from his annoyance with Grace, but also admitted he was wrong to blame her. He’d gone so far as to beg
her
pardon.

That went contrary to all her previous experience. Even when it was proved that she had been unjustly punished, none of the teachers had ever shown the slightest remorse for
their
mistake. Lord Steadwell’s apology was all the more difficult to fathom because she knew he was not entirely wrong to hold her responsible for what had happened.

If only he had left it at a simple apology.

Grace’s stomach seethed at his suggestion that they meet late in the evening to discuss her duties. She would have preferred he stay vexed with her. At least that might have provided an extra layer of defense against any unwelcome attention from her new employer.

“God bless Papa.” A fervent note in Sophie’s small voice made it clear she believed she was speaking directly to her Heavenly Father, who listened with perfect attention, as ready to grant her requests as her doting Papa. “And God bless Charlotte and Phoebe and Mamzell…”

When Sophie paused, her father leaned close and whispered something in her ear, after which she continued, “God, bless Miss Ella and help us behave well so she will want to stay at Nethercross. Amen.”

Did his lordship truly believe she might leave because his daughters behaved badly? If only he knew she was far more concerned about
his
behavior. Not that he had given her any reason to be…yet.

“Sleep well.” Sophie’s father tucked the bedclothes around her then pressed a kiss on her forehead. “And sweet dreams.”

“Thank you, Papa.” The child replied in a drowsy murmur. “Will you come and hear our prayers again tomorrow night?”

His lordship flinched slightly at his daughter’s request and cast a furtive glance toward Grace. “Perhaps I will. I reckon I should visit the nursery more often. At least until Miss Ellerby grows more accustomed to our ways.”

Much as Grace wished he would keep his distance, she knew she should welcome his presence for the sake of his children. It would not be easy for them when their father went away to London for days at a time while they tried to become accustomed to a new governess.

When Lord Steadwell bid her good-night, Grace bobbed a curtsy and wished him the same. The instant the door closed behind him, she pulled off her spectacles and rubbed her tired eyes. Would she ever grow accustomed to wearing this dowdy disguise? She comforted herself with the reminder that his lordship would soon be away from Nethercross during the week. She would not need to maintain such a heightened state of vigilance then.

Eager to get to bed after her long day, Grace checked to make certain the girls were settled for the night. She found Phoebe faced toward the wall, though she sensed the child was not asleep. For a moment she stood quietly watching and listening until a heave of Phoebe’s shoulders and a covert sniffle betrayed the child’s distress. Grace recognized the signs all too well. How often had she shed a few tears at the end of a hard day at school, forced to muffle her sobs from a dormitory full of girls?