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

by Lana Williams

  Warmth filled him at the idea that Amelia cared enough about Charlotte and Ronald to read to them. The more he learned about her, the more he liked her. When she’d offered to speak with his father, he’d been surprised. Her reaction to his unpredictable behavior was much different than the previous governesses. She seemed to have patience and understanding—something he needed to improve upon when it came to his father.

  When Amelia joined him in the drawing room before supper, he intended to inquire as to what Miss Singh had said that had offended not only Amelia but Charlotte as well. He paused on the stairs. When had she gone from Miss Tippin to Amelia? The realization unsettled him.

  Even Dauber and Mrs. Wimbly seemed to be charmed by the governess. They were both protective of the children and kept a close eye on them as well as his father. Thus far, they had only good things to say about Amelia. That matched his own impression of her.

  She seemed a genuinely kind person who held the children’s best interests at heart, which had been missing with the other women who’d served in her position. They’d been more concerned with structure and good manners than allowing the children to be children. Nor had they appreciated his father’s habit of stopping by the nursery, especially the last governess. She’d insisted that such interruptions weren’t good for the children.

  While he didn’t care for the idea of them being on such a strict schedule that a visit by a family member to the schoolroom caused issues, he knew his father could be contrary. He’d gone so far as to tell the woman she was teaching the children the wrong way. Though the situation had displeased him at the time, now Christopher wondered if his father had been right.

  As he poured himself a drink while waiting for Amelia, he admitted the truth. He was intrigued by her. Those large blue eyes with their wariness made him wonder at its cause. Something about her brought forth his protective instincts. He certainly hadn’t experienced that with the other governesses.

  Though he should be focused on his next step with the blackmailer, all he could see were a pair of sparkling eyes set in an alabaster face.

  From what little Amelia had said, she had the responsibility of looking after a parent much like he did. The fact that they had both lost a parent gave them something else in common. But that wasn’t the reason he wanted to spend more time with her. He shouldn’t feel so attracted to her. She was the governess, for heaven’s sake. Perhaps spending more time with her would remove the mystery that surrounded her and reduce his fascination.

  He was in no hurry to wed. Besides, he had yet to meet a woman who he felt strongly enough about to introduce to his father. Adding a governess to the household was difficult enough. Adding a wife would be doubly so. He could imagine how his father would react to that.

  As he turned to pace the length of the room again, he looked up to see her standing in the doorway. He stopped, telling himself to remember the differences between them rather than the few things they had in common.

  “Hello again,” she said with a hint of a smile.

  His gaze swept over her as she dipped into a graceful curtsy. He’d never seen her in anything except the ill-fitting drab grey gowns she normally wore. This evening, she wore a lavender gown that fit her well and accentuated her slim curves.

  Damn. His awareness of her had been a problem since the moment he’d first seen her. And it seemed to be growing worse.

  He cleared his throat, wishing he could clear his thoughts as easily. “I hope my visit didn’t excite the children overmuch.”

  “Not at all. They were asleep before we finished the story.” She moved forward with caution as if she expected him to send her away. “They adore it when you tuck them in. Thank you for taking the time to do so.”

  “I enjoy it though I haven’t managed it of late. I didn’t realize you had started reading to them before bed.”

  She chuckled. “I offered to do so as a reward for good behavior the past two days, and they earned it both times.”

  “The other governesses would’ve been appalled if I’d suggested they read to the children before bed.”

  Worried doubt flashed over her features so quickly that he wondered if he were mistaken. “I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds.”

  “Not at all. It’s thoughtful of you to do so.”

  Relief flickered in her eyes, making him wish he could read her thoughts. He settled with offering her a glass of sherry as he glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “I don’t expect my father, my aunt, and her guest to join us for a little while.” He gestured toward a chair. “Let us sit, and you can tell me how the children are progressing in their lessons.”

  Amelia took a seat before sipping her sherry, her gaze darting about the room as if she debated her answer.

  Christopher studied her, puzzled as to whether his presence or the topic made her nervous.

  “Charlotte has taken an interest in French and drawing, although she’s quite good with numbers as well.” She paused as though waiting for him to comment.

  “French? She has always complained about learning it before.”

  Amelia chuckled. “She advised me of that from the start, but she certainly seems to be enjoying it now. Perhaps next time you speak with her, you can ask her something simple in French.”

  “That’s an excellent idea.” Christopher enjoyed seeing Amelia’s face light with pleasure as much as he liked hearing how his niece was doing. “What of Ronald?”

  “Such a clever boy. He’s curious about many things. I believe I mentioned to you his current fascination with maps. He is also anxious to learn about scientific matters. I believe he’d like to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps.”

  Christopher shook his head at the thought. “I didn’t realize my father had made such a favorable impression with him.”

  “His visits to the schoolroom are educational and entertaining.”

  “Hmm.” Hearing that surprised him after the other governesses’ complaints.

  “I wanted to let you know that I spoke to him about the candles he’s left burning. He says the light from the paraffin lamp isn’t bright enough for his needs. That’s why he lights candles in addition to the lamp.” She shifted in her seat, looking uncomfortable.

  “Truly?” Christopher had never thought to ask his father why he lit the candles. He only berated him for forgetting to extinguish them.

  “He was quite distraught at having forgotten to put them out.”

  Christopher stood to pace the room. “I’m not trying to make him feel bad for his actions but to change them before someone is hurt.”

  “I suggested he place an empty candleholder on his inkwell to remind himself that he lit one. Perhaps that will help.”

  “That’s a good idea.” His father always took notes on his experiments. One of the last things he did before retiring for the night was to cover his inkwell. Why he remembered to do that but not extinguish a candle escaped Christopher. But perhaps it could be used to some advantage. Unfortunately, the idea didn’t ease his frustration.

  Amelia set aside her glass and rose to stand before him, her blue eyes filled with empathy. “Forgive me for speaking bluntly, but I have the impression that communication between you and the earl isn’t always clear.”

  “I find myself in the role of parent more often than son. His disregard for anything or anyone other than his experiments makes living with him a trial.” Her concerned expression made him want to gain her understanding, much to his surprise. He normally didn’t discuss his father with anyone.

  “I’m sure that’s difficult.” Her expression clouded. “Family members don’t always live up to our expectations.”

  “No, they don’t.” He dearly wanted to know who in her family had failed her.

  “Often it’s impossible to change their opinion or the way they think.”

  “Exactly.” Relief filled him at the realization that she understood.

  “But do you think giving up on them is truly an opti
on?”

  He frowned as he pondered the question.

  “One never knows when you might reach them. When they might be listening.” She reached out to brush his lapel as if to remove a piece of lint. “Your father would very much like to be part of your life. Especially when it comes to the project you’re working on.”

  Christopher doubted that.

  His expression must’ve given him away as Amelia added, “He continues to worry that you’re placing yourself in danger. Is that true?”

  “You sound displeased at the idea.” He reached out to take her hand, giving in to the urge to touch her, for a physical connection to the bond he felt.

  “I am. The children and your father need you.”

  And you? Do you have need of me? He didn’t know why the question came to mind but was pleased he didn’t voice it. She’d think him ludicrous.

  “I have no intention of taking unnecessary risks.” Yet as he looked into those blue eyes, he knew one risk he dearly wanted to take—kissing Amelia.

  ~*~

  “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  Amelia tore her gaze from Christopher’s to see Miss Singh in the doorway, her disapproving gaze steady on Amelia. Why the woman had taken such an instant dislike to her, she didn’t know, but her feelings were clear in the icy glare of her dark eyes and pursed lips.

  Amelia pulled her hand from the viscount’s, wishing they’d had a few more minutes alone. Her conversation with him had been enlightening and intriguing, and she greedily wanted more.

  No. That wasn’t the full truth, and she needed to be honest with herself. Attraction shimmered between them. Did she dare hope it wasn’t one-sided? Yet how could she allow her feelings to move beyond employee-employer when he didn’t know the truth about her?

  Once again, she’d had an opportunity to tell him but hadn’t. If only she could find the courage to speak.

  “Not at all. Miss Tippin and I were discussing the children,” Christopher said, his gaze lingering on Amelia, causing her face to feel as if it were on fire.

  “If you and the children’s...maid need more time to speak,” Miss Singh began only to pause as if expecting him to disagree.

  “The governess and I will speak more at dinner. Miss Tippin will be joining us.” He smiled at Amelia. “I’m sure we can visit then.”

  With one elegant brow raised, Miss Singh entered the drawing room in a beautiful blue sari. “In my country, servants are not invited to partake in meals with us.”

  “Miss Tippin is not a servant.” The sharp note in his tone bolstered Amelia’s confidence.

  “Oh?” Miss Singh’s gaze swept over Amelia from head to toe, leaving Amelia in no doubt that she found her lacking. “My apologies. I thought she worked for you.”

  “I do work here.” Embarrassment and anger fought within Amelia. She didn’t appreciate being spoken of as if she wasn’t present, regardless of her position in the household.

  “We’re fortunate to have her teach Charlotte and Ronald.” Christopher’s manner toward the guest cooled even further. “But she isn’t a servant.”

  “I see.” The pity in the woman’s tone had Amelia bristling.

  “May I offer you a glass of sherry?” Christopher asked, drawing Miss Singh’s attention, much to Amelia’s relief.

  “Christopher, darling.” Lady Beaumont entered the drawing room with both hands outstretched toward her nephew.

  “There she is.” His genuine pleasure as he kissed both her cheeks suggested he cared deeply for his aunt. “As beautiful as ever. My apologies for missing your return yesterday. I’m so pleased you’ve come home at last.”

  “As am I. Though we already miss the sun in India, don’t we Priya?”

  “Indeed, we do.” Miss Singh was all smiles and graciousness now that Lady Beaumont had joined them.

  The viscount poured them each a glass of sherry while they shared some of the sights they’d seen. Amelia retrieved her glass from the side table and kept her distance. Though Christopher insisted she wasn’t a servant, she wasn’t a guest either and didn’t want to intrude on the reunion.

  The earl soon joined them. He nodded politely at Miss Singh, who frowned at his slippers, before pouring himself a drink then moving to stand beside Amelia.

  “Is the sherry to your satisfaction?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He glanced over to where the other three stood visiting. “Have you been to India?”

  “I haven’t had the pleasure. Have you?”

  “Parts of it leave much to be desired. So many people.” He shuddered. “But a few areas are interesting.”

  “What are you telling Miss Tippin?” Lady Beaumont asked.

  “How intriguing India is.” To Amelia’s surprise, he turned to her and winked as he whispered, “Let us join them before we’re accused of plotting something.”

  “My lord?” This was her chance to remind him of his promise. “Might I ask if it would be possible for you to tell the viscount of my situation when you have a moment alone with him?”

  “Nearly forgot about that.” He frowned. “I don’t think it’s necessary, but if you insist, I shall.”

  “Thank you. I would greatly appreciate it.” Amelia could only hope he remembered their conversation.

  They joined the others though Amelia still held back, grateful for the glass she held to give her something to do with her hands. She listened to the conversation but didn’t speak unless spoken to, remembering all too well her aunt’s lectures to her students on the rules of socializing with one’s employer. Much like children, governesses were to be seen from an appropriate distance but not heard.

  Dauber appeared in the doorway. “Dinner is served.”

  The earl escorted his sister, leaving Christopher to accompany Miss Singh, and Amelia to follow. When they reached the dining room, she was surprised when Christopher took the seat next to her with the earl at the head of the table and the other two ladies on the opposite side.

  “If you wish, you’re welcome to take the children to Regent’s Park,” Christopher said quietly as everyone settled into their place. “I know you like providing fresh air and exercise for them.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  The idea hadn’t crossed her mind, just as she hadn’t been sure of what information to share when he’d requested an update on the children. Moments like this made her realize just how inexperienced she was. They also made her certain Christopher would discover the truth soon. Would the earl make good on his promise?

  Yet she knew beyond a doubt that she didn’t want Miss Singh to know about her past as a maid. The woman would latch onto the information and request Amelia to mend her gown or the like. Even now, Miss Singh watched her as if expecting her to use the wrong fork. Her watchful gaze made Amelia even more nervous.

  Dauber served the first course of shredded chicken soup to everyone except the earl, to whom he served trifle.

  “How long do you intend to remain in England?” the earl asked Miss Singh, who had difficulty forcing her gaze away from the dessert the older lord was enjoying.

  Amelia shared a smile with Christopher, pleased he was as amused by the situation as she. The notion of doing whatever made one happy was refreshing, in her opinion. Though anything taken to an extreme could be troubling.

  Miss Singh glanced at Lady Beaumont. “That has yet to be determined. Your sister was kind enough to offer for me to remain for a lengthy visit. I hope that’s not inconvenient.”

  “Not at all,” the earl said. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you wish.”

  Amelia kept her gaze on her soup. Though the news wasn’t a surprise, it was disappointing. The prickly woman was a difficulty she didn’t need. Perhaps she could find a way to win her over.

  “Christopher, might I have a few minutes of your time in the morning? I have something I wish to discuss with you.” The earl sent Amelia a pointed look as if to make certain she heard him.

  “Of
course. Would ten o’clock be convenient?”

  The earl nodded while nerves had Amelia setting down her spoon, her appetite gone. The wait until the morning when she would learn the outcome of the meeting would be painful. Her emotions swung like the pendulum of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, striking first relief then dread with the latter taking a firm lead.

  “I’m sorry to hear of your recent loss,” Miss Singh said. “How terrible to have lost both your daughter and her husband so tragically.”

  The earl continued to eat the dessert as if he hadn’t heard her. Miss Singh frowned as she stared at the earl then sent a questioning look to Lady Beaumont who shook her head, her lips tightening.

  Amelia wanted to advise her that the earl didn’t wish to speak of it. The few times he’d mentioned his daughter in her company, the sadness that had come over his expression made it clear how upset the topic made him.

  Christopher cleared his throat. “We miss them dearly. It’s especially difficult for the children, as you can imagine.” He smiled at Amelia. “That’s why the position of governess is so important to us. Miss Tippin has been a welcome addition to our household.”

  “How long have you been in the position?” Miss Singh asked.

  “Just over a week.”

  “I see. Not long then.”

  Something about her remark made Amelia uneasy. How silly when she only stated the obvious.

  “Perhaps I can be of assistance with the children on occasion,” Miss Singh offered. “I’d be happy to tell them of my homeland.”

  “How kind of you. That would be up to Lord Beaumont.” Amelia glanced at Christopher with a brow raised, hoping he remembered Charlotte’s words. Amelia was just starting to settle into a routine and didn’t like the thought of this woman upsetting it.

  He studied her expression for a moment before offering a smile to Miss Singh. “That’s very generous of you. We shall see what can be arranged.”

  “Excellent.” The brightness of Miss Singh’s smile seemed out of place for Christopher’s noncommittal response.

  “Aunt, tell us of your visit to Italy,” Christopher suggested. “How did you find Venice?”