The Governess's Guide to Marriage

by Liz Tyner

‘Let me ask—do you know of anyone who might wish you ill?’ The constable’s teeth appeared to grow larger as his eyes grew smaller.

  ‘I can’t think of anyone who might dislike me enough to kidnap me.’

  ‘Do you have anyone who dislikes you at all?’ His features took on the expression of a clergyman ready to start collecting names of the purgatory bound. Then he grinned, and he might as well have sprouted horns.

  ‘Well...’ she gave him a pointed blink to let him know she didn’t appreciate his probing ‘...I would hope I am well liked by all who meet me. My stepmother and I have no great love for each other, but I assure you, she is not a kidnapper.’

  ‘So, what’s the verdict on His Lordship? He bear up well under pressure?’ the constable asked.

  She stiffened her back and heard a laughing snort from Chalgrove before he spoke. ‘I am deeply offended. And do not answer, Miss Manwaring. It’s not pertinent to the crime.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be taking notes?’

  He scratched his head. ‘I have an amazing memory, Miss Littlemore.’

  Her frown let him know she didn’t appreciate his jest regarding her name.

  ‘Ah, Miss Manwaring, I find a little humour makes my task easier. Particularly if it is at the expense of others. An irritated person says more.’

  ‘Does it help you catch the culprit?’ she challenged, temporarily forgetting her wish.

  ‘Not at all. But we have no shortage of the criminally minded so I am always in demand.’

  He stood. ‘Every crime is not solved in a day. And with one of this magnitude, we can’t make a mistake, not that I feel it is possible.’

  She waited.

  ‘And what is your employer’s name?’ he asked. ‘I wish to see if he noted anything out of the ordinary.’

  ‘I would rather he not know of this.’

  The constable’s brows rose. ‘And I would rather him not have anything to know of. His name, please. If you do not give it, I will merely ask the Manwarings.’

  She gulped, but tried to hide everything she felt. ‘His name is Carlton Trevor. He is such a reticent man. But please...’ She heard the pleading in her voice. ‘Please do not worry him more than you can possibly help. He upsets easily when something varies from the usual and he cares greatly for his children. I fear I will lose my position if he knows of this.’

  He waved a hand. ‘Don’t worry about that. I can be subtle. I have never been up until now, but I’m sure I can be.’

  ‘Be subtle,’ the Duke commanded. ‘I would not want Miss Manwaring to lose her job for no reason.’

  ‘I will,’ the constable said. ‘He’ll never even know he’s being questioned.’

  ‘Please don’t upset him.’

  The constable grimaced. ‘Perhaps it would have been easier if you’d been taken alone. It’s not every day someone nabs a duke. Word is sure to spread, what with it being an abduction crime. Capital offence. No choice but to make an example.’

  ‘Let’s see that it doesn’t,’ Chalgrove said. ‘It would be easy enough to say Miss Manwaring was merely led into a trap by a cutpurse who convinced her a friend was dying and, when no funds were to be had, locked her in a cottage.’

  The constable gave her a bow, spoke with the Duke, assuring him that he would personally oversee the other constables who would be dispatched to solve the crime and they would bring this to a quick end. Then he took his leave.

  Crime. This was a crime. Of abduction. A capital offence.

  No matter how much she’d hated her grandmother for leaving her beside the road, her grandmother had given her treacle, taught her to spit and braided her hair much more gently than even Miss Cuthbert had.

  She rose. She didn’t want her grandmother hanged. She touched her neck. Nor did she want to be standing at her side.

  Chapter Twelve

  Chalgrove stood just at the opening of the door as he closed it behind the constable. She could tell he was thinking of the cottage, and the old woman, and her role in the ordeal.

  ‘I’m pleased you stayed, Miss Manwaring.’

  With the warmth in his words, the bond between them appeared again. It was as if he was no longer the Duke, but the ruffian she’d seen the first night in the cottage.

  With the most delicate touch, he took her arm and led her towards the seat the constable had vacated. He couldn’t be aware of the fluttery longings he caused in her body.

  She waited before sitting, not caring how long it was proper to examine him, and he accepted her appraisal without any censure. They were not enemies or lovers, but she hoped they were more than friends.

  In those seconds, she didn’t see him as a peer and she could tell he wasn’t judging her as a subordinate. They were two people who knew each other and, even though they had entirely different backgrounds, she was certain that, perhaps in some way, they could follow each other’s mind without speaking more than a few syllables.

  She also suspected, that, for the rest of her life, every time she heard his name she would listen. She wondered if he would do the same.

  ‘Am I to be questioned again?’ she asked.

  ‘A few minutes in your presence would be a pleasure for me. You don’t have to assume that I only wish to ask questions.’

  ‘But it’s true.’

  ‘Not entirely. We met in unusual circumstances and I would think that brought extreme emotions to the surface for you. It did for me.’

  ‘Not good ones.’ She’d been terrified. The darkness. She didn’t think her grandmother was capable of murder, or anything that would cause harm, but she’d been afraid when a man had been pushed into the room. Her grandmother had said she was bringing her a husband and, for once, she knew her words hadn’t been a lie.

  ‘All the same. We’ve shared something of life and death. Perhaps that is nearly like a...’ he shrugged ‘...marriage?’ He watched her face.

  ‘No.’ She pulled her shoulders back. ‘I would not think that. It was survival. Instinct. An attempt to stay alive.’

  There was the slightest twitch behind his eyes. ‘Who knows? Perhaps a struggling situation can show two people either at their best or their worst and it is much more telling than a few sweet words at a soirée when all have on their best society gloves.’ He touched his forehead. The red scratches were visible. ‘You had on no gloves.’

  A pang of guilt touched her. ‘I would never have done that if I had known you had no more to do with the situation than I did.’ Except, he didn’t have a mad grandmother in his family lineage. That would be best kept private. Mr Trevor would not take that well. Chalgrove would not take that well either.

  ‘My employer will accept that I was gone longer than he expected, but he will not understand if I am in London and have not returned to my post.’

  ‘I’ll send a note around to the residence expressing gratitude for your help.’ One side of his lips quirked up. ‘I assure you, your employer will be most happy to do as I ask.’ He seemed to be letting her in on a secret. ‘Peerages are a currency all their own. I can’t change that so I might as well use it for good reasons.’

  ‘I would appreciate it, but you don’t know how nervous Mr Trevor is. He insists that I not let Willie run too fast.’ While Willie was only one breakneck instant from being a hellion, his father was just as close to being too cautious for Willie’s own good.

  ‘I’ll soothe his fears,’ he reassured her.

  She could see a trace of the methods he might use on her employer when he moved closer to her. His eyes softened. ‘I kissed you and I held you in the rain. Those moments were almost as intimate as making love. I didn’t want to let you go that morning. Did it not mean anything for you?’

  ‘It can’t. I have to put it in the past. To forget it. For my life to be given back to me.’

  Chalgrove spoke
. ‘I don’t feel I can put this behind me until the people who took my freedom are punished.’

  ‘It won’t undo what happened,’ she continued.

  ‘Even if it did, I would still want them punished.’

  They stood so close, she couldn’t ignore the marks she’d put on his face. Three scratches at his left temple. She wondered if he’d carry the scars for ever.

  He caught her appraisal. ‘It’s fine. A memento of our meeting. My valet suggested he could change my hair to cover it, but it’s not big enough to matter. The valet said the scratches are in good alignment and will add character if they don’t fade completely. I suspect he is hoping I will be scarred.’

  ‘I was terrified.’

  ‘I beg your pardon for that. I should have introduced myself.’

  She doubted she would have trusted he was a duke at first, rather perceived it another trick. ‘You did. Eventually.’

  ‘I don’t blame you for the marks, I blame the old woman.’

  ‘I can’t judge her happy with her life.’ She didn’t back away, feeling she could sense his reaction better if they remained almost touching. ‘Circumstances must have made her what she is.’

  ‘Why would you care? Why would you even think of that?’

  ‘Probably because I have been a ward almost since I can remember. I loved my mother dearly, but I don’t take the riches I have as my due.’ After her mother had died, some of the servants treated her with a little less respect. And when her stepmother arrived, the gulf widened more.

  ‘Riches?’ He studied her. ‘You’re a governess.’

  ‘Yes. But I am not selling apples on a street corner, or worse. No one said life was to be easy for me. If the Manwarings hadn’t taken me in, I might be one of the most unfortunate people. I was one of those people.’ She would have followed her grandmother into a rough life.

  ‘What do you know of your life before you became a ward?’

  ‘I never talk of it any more.’ She’d not even talked of it when her grandmother had left her, believing her grandmother when she told her that she must never ever mention their connection. She’d detailed the perils that would happen if anyone found out her background.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d been warned to do exactly as she was told. Her grandmother had said it time and time again.

  The sound of someone speaking from below stairs floated to them.

  He moved and, with one arm extended, shut the door. Then he stepped closer and lowered his voice.

  ‘I will discover who she is and where she is, and the courts will take care of the rest.’

  ‘I didn’t know anything about the abduction until I found myself in the room with the door shutting behind me.’

  His face tightened. ‘They should be punished for that alone. Not to mention for the fear you felt when I was added. And that is why this puzzles me so much. I wonder if you were double-crossed and I wonder if the fascination I have with you is because I don’t truly know who you are.’

  His words jarred her. He thought her in league with the criminals.

  ‘I don’t know who I truly was,’ she said, words terse. ‘But I know who I am. And that is a governess. And I am about as fascinating as any other governess.’

  She grasped her skirt to leave and he touched her waist, stopping her with a light touch. ‘Never let yourself believe that you are like any other person. You aren’t. Not to me. I know the woman asked if you’d forgotten her name.’

  He believed her capable of a crime. She opened her mouth to tell him of her grandmother, but then she froze. Once the words were out of her mouth, she would have no control of how he reacted to them. She remained silent.

  ‘I saw the shoes flying,’ he said. ‘And yet I still promised you would not be harmed for this crime. I have given you amnesty. The criminals punished you enough. Now you have a chance to repay them for that.’

  Chalgrove had only promised to keep her unharmed, not her grandmother.

  ‘When you said you would not harm me, did you also believe at that time I might have been cheated by the criminals?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, did you mean the words?’

  ‘You will not believe how fast and quietly the culprits can be punished. The magistrate promised me. The others will be taken care of quickly.’

  ‘You can’t.’

  He went to the desk, reached for a paper and held it out to her.

  She saw her handwriting and gasped. ‘That’s the note I sent Nicky after I returned.’

  He held it to her. She took it. The sealing wax was unbroken. She gripped the missive. ‘Why wasn’t it sent?’

  ‘The servants are to check with me before anyone or anything enters or leaves this house. A simple rule that I insisted on right after we arrived.’

  The paper crumpled in her hand before she realised it. Chalgrove held her life and her grandmother’s just as easily. Who could say if he might change his mind?

  She took in a breath and met his eyes. Her courage might mean the difference between whether her grandmother lived or died.

  ‘I’m just letting Nicky know that I am fine. He would worry.’ She firmed her jaw and met Chalgrove’s eyes. ‘I care for him a great deal. He is the closest thing I have ever had to a father, in truth.’

  She slipped her finger under the seal, slit it open and held the words towards him. He waved them away, but she didn’t move.

  Finally, he slipped the note from her hands, their fingers brushing. He folded it and strode to the pull.

  After the servant rapped on the door, Chalgrove bade them enter. Once the maid stepped in, Chalgrove handed the missive to the girl. ‘See that this is sent immediately.’

  Then they were alone again.

  ‘Do you know where the person is who took us? You will only prolong the process by keeping silent,’ he asked.

  She moved closer. ‘I wouldn’t tell you if I did.’

  ‘That man you just sent the note to might have had something to do with our abduction.’

  She shook her head slowly, from side to side. ‘No. Not Nicky. You’ve not met him. And you can’t punish everyone I’ve ever spoken to. There’s not enough room in the gaol or the gallows.’

  ‘Miranda. We’re alone in this room and you can tell me the truth. You and I both know you’ve not told me everything you’re aware of.’ He let out a sigh. ‘We’re not enemies.’ He shook his head. ‘We can’t be. You’ve already tried to kill me once and I thought we’d got past that.’

  He took her shoulders in his hands. The touch, gentle, surprised her. And she was captured as a baby bird would be if he’d clasped both hands over the creature.

  Miranda felt her heartbeat increase.

  ‘Who are you protecting? And whomever you’re protecting, don’t trust them enough not to do the same thing again. You can’t.’

  Her stomach plummeted. She clasped the lapel of his waistcoat, holding herself steady. She could imagine her grandmother repeating her mistake. Capturing her again.

  The moment lingered between them, then he took her chin in his hand and kissed her, soft and slow, moist and burning. A sensual explosion of taste and tenderness. An awareness of his masculinity and a connection she’d not expected.

  He stopped, letting silence move into the space between them. He touched her cheek, as if he tried to soften his next words.

  ‘Your parents are on their way here,’ he said. ‘They’ll need to see that you’re safe.’

  The illusion she’d had of her life returning to normal evaporated.

  ‘They’re not my parents. They’re the Manwarings, summoned by the Duke of Chalgrove. They daren’t refuse.’

  ‘You believe that the Manwarings had nothing to do with the abduction,’ he said. ‘But I need to believe it.’

  ‘They didn’t,’ she sa
id. ‘They wouldn’t expend the effort.’

  She’d grown up with a father who hardly saw her except at rare times. Who truly didn’t live in the house, even after her mother had died and her stepmother had moved in.

  She was little more than a silhouette in his life. A hint of a child to satisfy her mother. Much like an overly large jewellery piece he might give his wife and then expect her to wear it on special occasions.

  The Duke took his hands away. ‘So, you choose not to have a family—’

  ‘I choose to have true friends. Not all my friends are always proper and they may annoy me, but they aren’t false. I choose them carefully and I am friendly, but keep the ones at arm’s length who have small hearts—’

  She paused. ‘I know a governess is not truly a member of the upstairs, nor truly a servant. But I have made friends as much as I can with the servants of the household. I have used every scrap of wiles I have and done my best to charm every breathing soul in that house, and the ones at the shops who I see and the people around me at Sunday Services.’

  ‘I would think you do not have to work hard to charm them.’ His chin gave nothing more than a twitch of negative.

  She nodded. ‘I do. As I know they are all concerned about their own life and their own path. And most are selfish and truly care nothing for me. A few do. And those are the ones who I would not want to worry about me when it is unneeded.’

  She’d already been beside the road once. She’d got a mother, but then when her mother had died, her home became someone else’s. Even her room had been changed to another one because her father’s wife said Miranda needed privacy. She could still hear the purr of her stepmother and knew the woman would happily deposit her along another road if she could. Her father would put up no protest.

  ‘Why do you choose to live among the shadows? Your father is more entrenched in society than you let on. I’ve attended several soirées with him present. Your father and I belong to the same club.’

  ‘Without his acceptance, I fit nowhere. That world doesn’t need me. Only in the world of the servants am I useful. I may not be accepted by everyone there either. But I am more acknowledged than I was in my father’s household.’ She touched her chest. ‘I spent most of my life in their world and some of them know I wasn’t born there and have no concern with it. Others think I am presumptuous, but those are not my friends. With them I am presumptuous’ She chuckled. ‘A haughty governess of unknown parentage. Rather feather ruffling to some.’