The Mysterious Governess (Daughters of Sin Book 3) (10 page)

She’d never spoken so forcefully but she’d been emboldened after watching Araminta conduct business.

And Lissa knew that she was cleverer than Araminta and more talented than Cosmo.

H
ighway robbery or a clever legal plan. These were the two choices which faced Ralph. Although he felt the former a more exciting option, and an antidote to his misery in Lord Debenham’s employ, his steady common sense ultimately favored the clever legal plan.

Pacing his small office, he tried to establish what he had to work with. Clearly he must verify for himself what was in the letter Miss Hazlett had told him her half-sister had failed to secure. And in the interim, he must ignore the fact that his beloved was the illegitimate daughter of a viscount. His mother would be horrified at Ralph’s choice when there were so many respectable ladies of middling rank with reasonable dowries, unstained by their accidental birth as poor Miss Larissa Hazlett had been, through no fault of her own.

But this letter. If it contained what Miss Hazlett said it did, then Ralph held Lord Debenham in the palm of his hand—and that was no bad thing, though he’d have to be careful. Ralph knew how ruthless his employer could be in his public life. It certainly did not end there. There was talk of a penchant for perverted activities involving a veritable bevy of lower-class women in the basement of his townhouse. Debenham was also a regular at Maggie Montgomery’s Nunnery, a high-class brothel where, it was rumored, she sifted through the freshest, most innocent of London’s new arrivals, and indentured them as virtual slaves for the pleasure of her high-paying clientele. Yet this, somehow, was not illegal.

At last Ralph found a pretext of speaking to Jem, his master’s valet when he went to deliver some papers at His Lordship’s townhouse and found the master not at home.

His arrival was fortuitously timed for Jem was on his way out to take one of his master’s coats to the tailor for repair when he met him on the pavement near the servants’ entrance.

During their hasty discussion around the corner, Jem was initially cagey about his recent meeting with Miss Partington but when he realized Ralph shared the same distrust of their shared master, he became infinitely more forthcoming.

With a great sense of relief and not inconsiderable self-congratulation, Ralph returned to his office. Jem was clearly in terror of his master, much as Ralph was. The agreement they’d arrived at regarding the letter would, for the moment, preserve the status quo and leave everyone none the wiser. That is, until the other parts of Ralph’s plan slotted into place. The letter was now Ralph’s insurance, as much as Jem’s.

In the meantime, there was nothing for it but to return to normal duties and wait to see how, and when, his newfound knowledge could be used.

***

L
issa knew life was an unfair business. Having met Hetty in order to pass on her concerns regarding Araminta’s strange disappearance from the tavern, it was clear that the younger of her half-sisters was far sweeter and more deserving than the elder, and yet it was the devious Araminta who looked likely to win the man of her dreams, though Lissa wasn’t sure that either Debenham or Sir Aubrey would make the ideal husband. Debenham she found terrifying, while Sir Aubrey appeared arrogant and distant. Hetty, however, was clearly smitten, though she’d not said anything directly to that effect.

As for Lissa, she was too poor to be more than of passing interest to her half-sisters. Perhaps they felt anger or revulsion. Nevertheless, she was only useful for the small services she could render, particularly to Araminta. She’d been relieved to learn that Araminta had finally returned home after she’d mysteriously disappeared following their meeting with Jem.

What was of graver concern, however, was learning of Jem’s disappearance within hours of that meeting. In fact, so concerned was Lissa that immediately upon learning the news, she wrote a note to Ralph.

She was just drifting off to sleep when the sound of a small stone hitting her window caused her to leap out of her bed and run to the window, her heart pounding with the fear of retribution, then with delight that it was in fact Ralph she could discern in a pool of moonlight.

Snatching a shawl from the hook on the back of the door, she hastened down the servants’ steps, pulled the bolt, melted into the night and, for the first time, into Ralph’s strong embrace, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Oh!” she cried as his lips touched her hair briefly before he set her apart from him.

“I was afraid you’d slap my face for taking such liberties.”

The warmth in his voice was like a drug. He put his finger beneath her chin and tilted up her head. In the light of the yellow, waxy moon, his eyes glowed like liquid amber and desire pooled in her belly. She wanted him to continue to hold her but he stepped back with a smile, adding, “I’m glad you didn’t. Just as I’m glad you told me about Jem. Have you heard anything further?”

“No, and I won’t until I visit Araminta in the morning and ask the question for myself, but I gravely fear for his safety, having heard some of the things your esteemed employer is apparently capable of.”

Her heart swelled when he stroked her cheek. It was a strange, disembodied sensation, and she wanted nothing more than for him to simply hold her and keep her safe. She rarely felt safe under the Lamonts’ roof, and although she was fond of the little girls, it had been drummed into them to regard her as a servant and not, under any circumstances, a confidante. They were closer to their nursemaid, Clara.

Ralph’s transparent admiration was balm to her barren soul but now he was deadly serious.

“This is a grave state of affairs,” he told her, chafing her hand between his, perhaps to soothe himself as much as her. “Naturally I know you’ll keep this entirely to yourself, but I saw Jem just before he apparently disappeared, and I saw the letter myself. I won’t tell you the arrangement I made with Jem, and that’s not because I don’t trust you, but because if you are in some way implicated through having accompanied your...Miss Partingon, it will be safer for you to be ignorant of its contents.”

Deep furrows crinkled his brow. Lissa wanted to smooth them away, and run her fingers through the springy brown hair that he was continually raking back from his eyes.

Instead, she told him her greatest fear: that Ralph would somehow find himself in similar danger to Jem. “I don’t know how Cosmo knows about us, but earlier this afternoon, he threatened that if I didn’t paint for him, harm would come to my,” she blushed, “young man.”

To her surprise, Ralph looked remarkably chuffed. “I say, ‘young man’, is it? Well, if that’s what I am, then, I haven’t yet enjoyed all the perks. May I kiss you, Miss Hazlett?”

Lissa gasped as delight and trepidation speared her.

He must have noticed the furtive way her eyes darted to the windows above, for immediately he looked contrite, retreating slightly and dropping his eyes. His voice was heavy, as if he greatly feared he’d overstepped the line. “Please forgive me, I had no right to make such an ungentlemanly request.”

But barely had he finished the sentence than, in the greatest act of bravado in Lissa’s life, she raised herself on tiptoe and touched her lips carefully to his.

They were soft and warm and immediately she was consumed by the greatest desire to lose herself in his embrace and the intimacy of his kiss. A desire kindled by the feeling of his arms tightening around her as his lips yielded to hers in a bonding that quickly grew in intensity.

A kiss that transported her beyond the realm of her narrow existence and filled her heart almost to bursting.

Her hands, which had been resting against his breast, now twined behind his neck and she pressed herself against him, just as she felt him retreating.

When she opened her eyes in disappointment, it was to see the sentiment echoed in his. “Oh, Miss Hazlett, this is far too dangerous.” He was breathing heavily and he shook his head in agitation.

Embarrassment swamped Lissa. “You think I was...too forward? Please don’t assume the accident of my birth makes me that kind of woman.”

The misery of her dreadful origins threatened to swamp her. Her shoulders heaved and she didn’t resist when he wrapped his arms about her once more and gently kissed the top of her head.

“You are the most virtuous, delectable armful I’ve ever had the good fortune to meet. The accident of your birth means nothing.” His voice was a soft, cathartic murmur. “You are my angel, Miss Hazlett. I recognized it from the moment I laid eyes on you, but it’s only now that I realize the danger you place me in.”

A note of amusement crept into his voice at her predictable gasp, and he went on, “A danger that has nothing to do with my unsavory employer and everything to do with the fact that such close proximity to you makes
me
a danger—for I want you, Miss Hazlett.” Sparks of light radiated from the depths of his gaze. “I want you with every particle of my being—oh yes, for my own selfish reasons, but also to keep you safe and protected.”

Reluctantly he dropped his hands. “And I cannot do that when I cannot trust myself not to kiss you with a passion that would be dangerous for both of us. There’s only one thing for it.” His tone became brisk and businesslike. “I must go away to think, Miss Partington.”

“Think?”

“Of how to expedite this bold and cunning plan I’ve only just now put into motion. I’m not rich enough to offer you marriage at this moment and anything else is quite out of the question. This morning I’d thought to rob a coach—not a thought I entertained for long,” he quickly reassured her, “for that would be as counter to achieving the respectable, happy and long-lasting union I desire as succumbing to what I really feel here.” He touched his hand to his heart and Lissa blushed at the allusion.

“You see, when I saw Jem, I came up with a plan to safeguard certain individuals from harm. In fact, it was more the
beginning
of a plan, depending on how other events transpired.” He sighed. “Now I realize I must exercise my mental faculties more than I ever have and perhaps
tinker
with events. For so long I’ve been a lowly secretary, so there’s not been much of a requirement to use this.” He tapped his head. “But my unbiased mama tells me I’m the cleverest man she knows, and I’d like you to think it someday, too.”

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned close and kissed her chastely on the lips, stepping back and shaking his head when Lissa moved forward.

“Not yet, Miss Partington, but I promise you, our time will come.”

***

A
raminta felt her time had come.

The evening she had planned at Vauxhall Gardens was going to cement what she had worked toward for so long: the perfect marriage.

She’d told herself she could have any man she wanted and, during her first season, that had probably been true.

Then there’d been the disastrous incident with that stupid young man blowing his brains out. She’d only agreed to marry him after too many champagnes had led to a quick fumble in a carriage; but she’d not been found out, as she’d feared at the time, and there’d been no witnesses—and no consequences—so she wasn’t going to marry any gentleman she didn’t want to, unless she really had to.

Of course, she’d been very sorry that her disappointed suitor had been so addle-pated as to have used a loaded pistol. She fully agreed with everyone who wanted to talk about it with her that it was a tragedy and so thoughtless of him to have made such a mess for his poor mama to find, but that wasn’t Araminta’s fault. The trouble was, more and more she was gaining the impression that
others
in society felt it was. At least to the extent that the more glittering prizes tended to shy away from her when it came to forging a more long-lasting union.

Then she’d met Lord Debenham, who was clearly mad for her; and she did find him intriguing, with that edge of danger that did something to her insides. Yes, the letter Jem had shown her was troubling. Lord Debenham had been painted a villain by his very own cousin, Sir Aubrey’s wife, while Sir Aubrey was, apparently, the wrongly maligned society gentleman.

However, Lord Debenham was only in danger if that letter were discovered. Araminta’s meeting with His Lordship immediately after she’d left the tavern had made it clear how far he was willing to go to ensure that the letter was never made public. Araminta might even have agreed to be his wife that very moment if he’d asked her.

But then, when Hetty had dragged her into the drawing room just after she’d returned from her secret meeting with Lord Debenham in the hackney, there was Sir Aubrey pacing up and down. And after he’d kissed her knuckles and said such sweet things to her after telling her how important it was to give
him
the letter, Araminta’s heart had fluttered all over the place.

So, really, Araminta had her choice of two suitors—Lord Debenham
and
Sir Aubrey.

Now Araminta had chosen. Sir Aubrey might be a mere baronet but only a sickly, childless cousin stood in the way of an earldom and, equally important, Sir Aubrey would make a far more manageable husband than Lord Debenham.

Although Hetty would be disappointed, and might even blame Araminta for acting improperly, she must know that a union between herself and Sir Aubrey was impossible.

Sir Aubrey’s smeared reputation had apparently made him
persona non grata
in the higher echelons of government and society, so he needed a wife like Araminta whose beauty, charm and grace would assist in him being embraced by society.

All she had to do was give him the letter.

Tonight, dressed just like Hetty—as a Spanish dancing girl for the masquerade at Vauxhall—Araminta intended that by the end of the night, the elder Miss Partington was going to be all but Sir Aubrey’s wife.

If he didn’t make Araminta a formal offer, she had a plan that would give him no choice.

L
issa’s relief was short-lived. News had come to her that Jem had been discovered alive but that he’d been knocked about badly, and now lay at death’s door.