Gambling for the Governess: A Victorian Romance (The Seven Curses of London Book 9)

by Lana Williams

  “Why don’t we begin with the facts.” His father handed Christopher the book he’d pulled from the shelf. “Miss Amelia Tippin is from the Beasley Governess Academy and arrived earlier than expected. Both those facts are to be commended.”

  Christopher set aside the book certain his father didn’t realize he’d handed it to him. Perhaps allowing him to continue would be a good test. If Miss Tippin found his father’s behavior too much, he would rather know now. While lucid at the moment, oftentimes a switch would flip, and he’d become incoherent or unresponsive as if so consumed by his thoughts, he didn’t hear anyone else.

  “Miss Tippin advised me that the academy has closed due to Mrs. Beasley’s untimely death,” his father added.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Christopher truly was, because it meant no other applicants would be forthcoming which limited his options.

  A shadow crossed the woman’s face, making him wonder if she had a close association with the academy’s founder.

  “And your references?”

  “All in good order,” his father answered.

  The concerned look Miss Tippin gave his sire puzzled him. “What the earl hasn’t yet mentioned is that—”

  “We’ll receive them soon.” His father gave her a pointed look. “With the academy closed, such information will be slow in coming.”

  “I see.” Christopher didn’t understand what was going on between the two of them but intended to find out. But how to proceed in the meantime?

  His father waved his hand. “What is the need for references when she comes from such a highly recommended school?”

  That was a valid point, Christopher conceded. “Do you have experience with children the same age as Charlotte and Ronald?”

  Miss Tippin shifted in her seat. “I’m familiar with their general ages. I’ve found that keeping young children busy with a variety of topics and activities works best.”

  “She’s been here less than an hour and already had them conjugating French verbs. What else do you need to know?” his father asked.

  Why did he feel like this interview was two against one?

  “The children have given their approval.” His father selected another book, thumbed through it, then handed it to Miss Tippin. The woman took it with a questioning glance.

  Christopher didn’t bother to tell her that his father often did random acts for no reason. She’d soon learn it for herself if she remained. He’d attempted to explain his father’s behavior to the two previous governesses in advance but doing so hadn’t helped.

  While he was swayed by the fact that his niece and nephew already seemed to like her when they’d never cared for the previous governesses, he hesitated. Stability was the most important requirement. How could a governess as young as she was provide that?

  Yet if he didn’t hire her, how could he be away from the house long enough to discover what had happened to Margaret and Edward? It might take weeks to find a suitable applicant to interview, let alone one who’d graduated from the academy.

  “Why don’t we agree to try this for two to three weeks and see how things progress?” his father suggested as if reading Christopher’s mind.

  He was surprised by the logic of his suggestion. While it wasn’t ideal, what else could he do? “I suppose that would be acceptable. Miss Tippin, are you agreeable?”

  Relief filled her expression, lighting her from within and making her blue eyes sparkle once again. “I’d be delighted to serve as governess for however long you see fit.”

  Perhaps his father had made a good decision after all, Christopher thought as his gaze lingered on Miss Tippin. Her enthusiasm would be helpful in teaching the children, and if forced to add his vote to the rest of his family’s, he wanted to keep her as well.

  He turned to thank his father only to realize he’d left. With a sigh, he looked at Miss Tippin, prepared to explain only to see understanding and empathy in her expression.

  She rose with the book in her hand, reached for his, and returned them to their proper places without batting an eye. “I am enjoying the position already. Your niece and nephew are delightful.”

  Interesting that neither of the previous governesses had mentioned that.

  Chapter Three

  “It is to be feared that the sporting newspaper of the present day reveals the existence of really more mischief, more substantial immorality and rascality than ever appeared in their pages before.”

  ~The Seven Curses of London

  The next morning, after Amelia shared breakfast with the children in the nursery, she escorted them outside to the garden to enjoy the sunshine. She’d found some jumping ropes and other toys tucked away in a chest in the nursery when she’d done a brief inventory of the room and brought them along.

  She chuckled as Ronald attempted to jump rope. The children were wonderful. The house was lovely. In fact, the position seemed to be too good to be true. The earl had encouraged her to incorporate fun into the children’s lessons, something that would’ve horrified her aunt though Amelia had enjoyed it when her own father had done so. The earl’s insistence that they take turns holding awkward poses while they recited French verbs had made them all laugh the previous day.

  As much distress as Charlotte and Ronald had endured already in their young lives, making lessons entertaining when possible seemed like an excellent idea. From what little the children had shared, the other governesses hadn’t welcomed the earl’s ideas or his interruptions. Nor did she think Viscount Beaumont agreed with his father’s ideas.

  She found herself continually glancing at the garden door, expecting to see the stern lord emerge to tell her that his father had told him the truth, and he was dismissing her on the spot. The worry had made for a restless night. Would he allow her to continue the trial period once he knew?

  She wasn’t sure what to think of him. The handsome man unsettled her and not just because he held her future in his hands. Her vague expectations of an overweight, slightly foppish lord based on what she’d overheard a few of the teachers at the academy describe couldn’t have been more wrong.

  His green eyes, a shade darker than the children’s, had followed her into her dreams last night. He was tall, broad-shouldered and walked with a masculine grace that caught the eye. His dark hair brushed his collar. A weariness lingered in his eyes as if he shouldered the weight of the world and waited to see what calamity might lie around the corner. He had what her grandmother would’ve called an “old soul.”

  But she had no wish to feel sympathy for him, no matter what bothered him. The children were her concern, not their uncle. She’d woken determined to do all she could to keep her position and prove she was an excellent governess. She’d feel better if the earl had told his son about her lack of experience before suggesting the trial period.

  After the second interview in the library, Viscount Beaumont had said he hoped his father’s remarks hadn’t upset or offended her then he’d escorted her to the schoolroom. He’d watched from the doorway for several minutes, making her decidedly uncomfortable. She wasn’t ready to be observed in her duties when she was still so new to them.

  Mrs. Wimbly, the housekeeper, an intimidating woman in her own right, had shown Amelia her rooms while the children had their supper. Amelia had hardly known what to say at the sight of the substantial-sized bedroom with lovely furnishings in pale lavender with touches of grey as well as a small sitting room that she would have all to herself. The accommodations were nothing like the small room she’d had at the academy.

  When Mrs. Wimbly had suggested Amelia must be tired from the journey and might prefer to have a tray in her room, Amelia had readily agreed. She wasn’t looking forward to the questioning stares of the staff if she dined with them. Nor had she been invited to have supper with the viscount and the earl as occurred in some households.

  The position of governess was an awkward one. She didn’t belong with the family nor did she belong with the servants. Amelia didn’t
want to inconvenience the staff by eating in her room every night. Perhaps she could eat a few meals with the servants and the rest on her own. She’d hardly known what to say to the maid who’d brought her tray the previous night when she’d been the one to do such things only a month ago.

  Now, as the children played, she drew a deep breath, the first unrestricted one in nearly two weeks. She lifted her face to the sun, appreciating its warmth. She’d been so beside herself with nerves the past few days that she still felt weary, but she couldn’t let down her guard yet. Her employment was far from secure.

  “Miss Tippin?” Ronald offered her his rope. “Will you show me how to do it? Charlotte’s not a good teacher.”

  Amelia couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s forlorn expression. She’d already learned that he didn’t care to be bested by his sister. “Let’s try this one step at a time. Hold both handles and swing the rope once.” She demonstrated what she meant and jumped over the rope, allowing it to stop behind her. “Can you try that?”

  With his brow wrinkled in concentration, Ronald took the handles and tried it for himself, succeeding on his second try. His smile was triumphant as he looked up at her. “I did it.”

  “Yes, you did. Now try swinging the rope all the way around. Don’t worry about what your sister is doing. Just focus on your own efforts.” His next attempt didn’t go well so she demonstrated again, moving as slowly as possible.

  Ronald watched her closely. She hoped he showed the same interest when they practiced spelling later in the day. First, she wanted to wear off some of their energy before settling in for more lessons.

  “Will you show me once more, please?” he asked.

  “Certainly,” she agreed, happy he’d remembered his manners even while focused on jumping rope.

  “Grandfather.” Charlotte halted her activity to hurry forward with a smile.

  Amelia turned to see the earl walking along the path, once again wearing his red slippers. She already liked the lord despite his sometimes odd remarks. But she’d be relieved when he told the viscount the truth of her situation. She dipped into a curtsey. “Good morning, my lord.”

  “Out for a bit of fresh air, eh?” He glanced at the sky before looking back at her. “Best to enjoy it before the fog and soot descent upon us. The air in the city leaves something to be desired.”

  “It’s a lovely day thus far.” The academy had been situated outside of London, so she’d been able to enjoy fresh air on the rare occasions when her duties permitted. But the weather was the least of what concerned her at the moment. “May I ask if you had a chance to advise the viscount about the matter we discussed?”

  “Not yet. I’m waiting for the proper time.” He waved a hand as if to dismiss her worry, revealing a burned spot on his cuff. “I will do so soon though. Do not be concerned.”

  “Grandfather,” Ronald said, “can you jump rope?”

  To Amelia’s surprise, he took the rope and studied the handles. “We shall see.” Then he swung the rope and hopped several times, the golden tassels of his slippers dancing in the sunlight.

  The children clapped their hands at his performance.

  Amelia smiled. Moments like this were ones the children would remember. While lessons and manners were important, she knew how precious spending time with family was. The memories of doing so with her mother and father were ones she’d always cherish.

  The earl handed the rope back to Ronald. “Now, you try. Show me how it’s done.”

  Ronald, with the same concentration he’d shown earlier, adjusted the handles then jumped the rope several times. His delight at doing so in front of his grandfather was evident in his grin.

  “Excellent. Do it again,” the earl said.

  Amelia appreciated the lord’s simple enjoyment of the moment as he watched his grandchildren. The viscount seemed frustrated with his father, but she liked him.

  “What is this?”

  Amelia turned to see Viscount Beaumont approaching, his brow furrowed. Her stomach dipped at his obvious disapproval.

  Surely he didn’t have an issue with allowing the children some exercise. They needed physical activity as much as they needed knowledge, in her opinion. As she opened her mouth to respond, the earl reached for the jump rope Ronald held and offered it to his son. “Your turn.”

  Viscount Beaumont looked at the offering as if uncertain what it was.

  Ronald jumped up and down as Charlotte giggled. “Yes, Uncle. You try too.”

  The earl gestured for him to take the rope and he did so, still looking perplexed. He glanced at her. “Shouldn’t you be teaching them numbers or something?”

  Amelia did her best to hide a smile, but his uncomfortable expression made it difficult. “We decided to stretch our legs after breakfast. We’ll be working on letters soon, but exercise is good for the soul.”

  “Did you hear that?” the earl asked his son. “Exercise is good for your soul.”

  Ronald chuckled but Charlotte looked concerned. “Don’t you know how?” she asked. “If you don’t, Miss Tippin will show you. She’s a very good teacher.”

  The viscount gripped the handles and swung the rope as if to test it. To her surprise, he backed up and jumped several times. Based on his reluctant smile he seemed quite proud of himself.

  The children clapped their hands, obviously pleased by his attempt.

  “Well done,” Ronald advised him. “But Miss Tippin is better.”

  Amelia felt heat rising in her cheeks as the viscount’s gaze shifted to her.

  “Well then,” he said, “we must have a demonstration. Don’t you think?”

  Somehow, she knew he expected her to refuse. She wasn’t certain what came over her, but she took the rope from his outstretched hand, backed up several steps, and jumped, using a skipping step she hadn’t realized she still remembered.

  The children clapped in delight at her skills.

  She raised her brow and held the rope for the viscount. “Your turn,” she said, hoping she wasn’t overstepping her bounds.

  He chuckled and waved away the toy. “I bow to your expertise.”

  She much preferred this playful version of the viscount over the stern one.

  The children giggled then Charlotte stepped away, trying to mimic Amelia’s steps. Ronald joined her but kept with his simple hop.

  “Which of you can do the most without stopping?” Amelia asked, doing her best to stay focused on her duties. “Count your hops out loud.” She turned to see that the earl had disappeared, leaving her and the viscount to watch the children.

  Ronald got to three before he had to start over while Charlotte was nearing ten. Amelia clapped her hands. “Well done, children. Now count in French.” She could feel the weight of the viscount’s regard and glanced his way to find his green eyes studying her.

  “Do you make it a practice to jump rope with your students?”

  A wave of uncertainty filled her. She’d never had any students before, but she knew her aunt wouldn’t approve. She shoved aside her emotions and straightened, choosing to answer in her own way. “Ronald was restless this morning, so I thought it best to allow them some physical activity before we proceed with lessons.”

  Her attention returned to the children, correcting Ronald when he said the wrong number.

  “Clever of you to include counting with the exercise.” He said the compliment grudgingly.

  “Children often learn best when they don’t realize they’re learning.”

  The viscount frowned. “How do you mean?”

  “Their minds absorb knowledge all the time, not just when we’re in the schoolroom. The more information we can provide that they find interesting, the better.” She’d read a book written by Rousseau on the topic—another thing she’d done of which her aunt wouldn’t have approved.

  “I suppose the challenge in teaching children is holding their attention.”

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “Not all children learn the same way.”
That was something she’d learned when comparing a few books on teaching. One had insisted everything be written down while another had suggested oral instruction was preferred. Surely a combination of those along with some practical application worked best. At least until she knew how Charlotte and Ronald learned the best.

  To her surprise, the viscount didn’t argue but continued to watch the children, his expression giving no hint to his thoughts.

  “May I ask how their parents died?” she asked in a whisper, not wanting the children to overhear.

  “A cabriolet accident. Their father was driving too fast on a narrow lane and collided with a large wagon piled high with heavy barrels.”

  “How terrible. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “My sister Margaret was eight years older than me. We weren’t that close but...” His voice trailed off.

  “Family is family,” she said without thinking. Her aunt had never acted like a relative should, but Amelia had still been saddened by her death.

  “Edward, Viscount Wright, was a good husband. From all appearances, they had a good life together,” the viscount said in a quiet voice. “His father is a marquess, and Edward was their only child.”

  “How is the marquess adjusting to the loss?”

  “He and his wife haven’t wanted to see the children which upsets them and me,” he said, his voice lowered further. “However, he’s recently been in touch, so perhaps the situation will improve.”

  “That must be difficult for the children.”

  “It certainly hasn’t helped their grief over losing their parents. That is one more reason why in the next few weeks if all goes well, I would like you to take them to live at our country house. A change of scenery would do them good.”

  She thought the idea a terrible one. Already she could tell how much they cared for their grandfather and uncle. “But what of you and the earl? I’m sure they’d miss you both.”