Amelia drew a relieved breath when the focus of the conversation shifted away from her. However, Miss Singh didn’t seem to care for the change in the topic based on her disgruntled expression.
As Dauber offered stewed eel seasoned with nutmeg, garlic, onion, anchovy paste, and port wine, Amelia listened avidly to Lady Beaumont’s description of the architecture and canals of Venice. How amazing it must’ve been to see such a place.
A sigh escaped her lips, and Christopher glanced at her as his aunt and her friend returned to the topic of India. “Have you ever been to Venice?”
“No, but it sounds lovely,” Amelia said quietly.
“Visiting foreign places is said to expand the mind.”
“I’m sure it does but hearing about it firsthand is almost as good.”
He held her gaze. “I hope you get the chance to journey there one day.”
She smiled politely even as she swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. Though she remembered the dreams of her childhood, they were now further away than ever. Governesses didn’t do things like travel to Venice unless it was to accompany their charges. She would have to settle for listening to Lady Beaumont’s story about it. Perhaps on the morrow she’d be able to release the longing for more and remember to be grateful for all she had, assuming she remained employed.
Forcing a polite smile, she asked, “Do you enjoy travelling as well?”
With a glance at the others who now visited about India, he shook his head. “I don’t care to be away from home for long.”
Of course, she realized. He’d want to keep watch over his father. Journeying abroad would be difficult to arrange.
“Do you have hobbies you enjoy?” she asked.
He took a drink of wine. “I have been spending some time at the horse races lately and even placed a few bets.” Disapproval must’ve shown in her expression as he asked, “You don’t like to gamble?”
“Not particularly.”
“Do you ever go to the races?”
“No, though my mother used to go occasionally.” She took a bite of the veal and spinach with a thin brandy and broth sauce as she debated how much to say. “She enjoys gambling as much as she enjoyed watching the horses run.”
He was silent for a long moment, making her wonder if he intended to comment. “I admire the horses and what they can do, but gambling is a unique endeavor.”
“How do you mean?” she asked, curious as to his thoughts on the topic.
“Horseracing unites the crowd. As they watch the horses, it no longer matters whether one is working class or nobility. I suppose I like the idea of any sport that can do that.”
She pondered his words. “I’ve never thought of it quite like that.”
“However, gambling has become a problem that ignores social status as well.” He gazed into the distance as if someone in particular weighed on his mind.
She had no desire to share that her mother was one of those who had a problem. That Amelia paid the rent on her behalf to make certain she didn’t take the money to the track. Christopher didn’t need money so she wondered if it was the excitement of betting that made him do it? “Do you find watching a race is more thrilling if you’ve placed a wager on it?”
He glanced at her in surprise. “I suppose the outcome of any given activity becomes more important if you have something at stake.”
The nerves in her stomach tightened at his words. She could certainly attest to that fact. She’d taken a gamble of her own with this position. The stakes were high and that made her very interested in the outcome. But she wasn’t about to share any of that.
“Did you find the French book helpful?” he asked.
“I haven’t had a chance to look at it closely yet, but I believe it will be.”
“I confess I’m surprised by your interest. Aren’t the children too young to learn much French?” he asked.
The doubt that was never far away reared its ugly head. While French was an important part of a child’s education, she didn’t truly know how far to take it. “I don’t intend to spend too much time on it right now.” She paused to look at him for a reaction. Did he think that a mistake?
To her relief, he nodded. “I can’t remember when I first learned French. But I can see the advantage of exploring any topic in which they show interest.”
Relieved, she nodded. “I believe so as well.”
“It must be challenging to teach as you’ve been instructed when parents often have a completely different idea of the way it should be done.”
She reached for her wine glass and took a sip to delay responding while she thought of an answer. The bits and pieces she’d overheard from the other governesses at the academy were all she had to go on. She’d been there two years, but much of what she’d learned had been from listening to the students’ discussions. They didn’t have any experience either. Some of the teachers had served as governesses but not all.
The one lesson she’d learned beyond a doubt had been the importance of keeping an emotional distance from the young charges and members of the family. As she looked at Christopher’s hand so near hers on the table, she realized she was already failing at that. A shiver passed over her at the thought of what her aunt would say if she could see her now.
“What is it?” he whispered.
“My aunt would not approve of my conversation with you or the meal we’re sharing.”
He looked at his plate. “Did she not care for veal?”
When she realized he jested, she chuckled.
“I see no harm in sharing food or conversation,” he added. “Especially when the topic is one we both care about.”
“The children.” She whispered the words as a reminder to herself. That was all they had in common—all they should have in common. He was her employer, and they both cared about Charlotte and Ronald. If only she could remember that.
Chapter Seven
“Here amongst the refreshment bustle, from which constantly streamed men hot from the beer and spirit counters—swarmed hundreds of these betting harpies.”
~The Seven Curses of London
The following morning, Christopher checked his watch for the third time, realizing his father had forgotten about his request to meet. Though it wasn’t a surprise, such absentmindedness was a sign of the larger problem that had frustrated Christopher his entire life.
However, he’d long ago given up trying to determine what could be done about it. The papers from their man of business Christopher intended to discuss when they met weren’t urgent, so he decided against sending a servant in search of the earl. Why his father had wanted to meet would have to remain a mystery for now. Once again, he was reminded that he wasn’t a priority for his father. He often became caught up in his experiments or reading about other experiments, forgetting life existed beyond his lab.
The hour was too early to venture to another gaming hell to dig for clues on the blackmailer. Though Christopher wanted to learn more about the man selling advice at the races, that would have to wait until another race was held later in the week.
He rose to pace the length of the room, only to pause at the empty place on the shelf from the book he’d given Amelia to aid Charlotte with her French. He searched his memory certain he had another book that might prove helpful.
“There it is.” He retrieved it, choosing to ignore the tingle of anticipation at the thought of having an excuse to see Amelia again so soon.
As if to tempt him further, the sound of the children playing in the garden reached him. He moved to the mullioned windows that overlooked the garden, smiling at the sight of children playing with hoops and sticks.
Without hesitation, he strode to the garden door, book in hand.
“Good morning, Miss Tippin.” He nodded, taken aback by the stricken expression that fell over her expression. “Is something amiss?”
She blinked several times then glanced at the children only to look back at him, forcing a smile. “N-not
at all. Does the morning find you well?”
“It does, indeed.” He studied her further, though she seemed to have regained her composure. “And you?”
“A lovely morning.” She glanced up at the sky. “I must say I was hoping for more sunshine.”
“Weather is always something the city could improve upon.”
The children ran over to greet him before he could say anything more.
“Bonjour, Uncle.” Ronald bowed with a grin.
“Have you come to watch us?” Charlotte asked.
“Do you want to play? You can use Charlotte’s hoop,” Ronald offered.
Christopher chuckled. “I’ve come to speak with Miss Tippin, but I promise to watch the two of you while we visit.” Again, he noticed Amelia’s expression tighten, making him wonder at the reason.
“Very well.” Ronald wore a disgruntled expression. “I hope you’ll play next time.”
“I’ll consider that.” He waited until they’d returned to their hoops before he offered the book to Amelia. “I found another reference for you. It’s a children’s book that might be both interesting and a tool to help them work on their French.” He glanced at his nephew. “Though it seems Ronald is coming along quite well with it.”
“A children’s story. Excellent.” She flipped through the pages, a smile curving her lips. “This will be very helpful.”
“I’m pleased to be of assistance.”
She glanced at him from under her lashes. “Do you have a busy day ahead of you?”
“I had thought Father wanted to meet this morning, but as per usual, he failed to remember.” If he hadn’t been watching closely, he might’ve missed the disappointment that swept over her features.
“Perhaps something caused him to forget,” she suggested as if concerned over the reason.
“I don’t know whether to be pleased by how often you defend him or annoyed that you do so.”
She offered a true smile, just as he’d hoped. Why he felt the need to lighten her mood was beyond him.
“I don’t wish to annoy you.” She hesitated, as if unsure she’d said the right thing.
“That is a relief.” Once again, her uncertainty surprised him. She was so careful about what she said and did, so different than the other governesses he’d encountered.
Some he’d interviewed had a strict idea of the curriculum to which they wished to adhere. One had flirted with him outrageously as if hoping to use her charms to convince him to hire her. He nearly shuddered at how she might act if he’d given her the position.
But Amelia did none of that. Instead, she seemed to constantly question her actions, whether it had to do with what she taught or her own behavior. While he understood the position of governess was an awkward one and changed depending on the family she worked for, he would think her training and experience would provide her with more assurance. Yet he knew beyond a doubt that he liked her. She had the children’s best interests at heart.
“You are a most unusual governess.”
This time there was no denying the alarm in her expression. “How so?”
He shook his head. “I meant that as praise.”
She frowned. “Please advise me if there’s something I should be doing differently. Each family has preferences and different expectations.”
“I have no complaints. Only compliments.” The scent of lilies teased him. He couldn’t resist leaning slightly closer before drawing another breath.
Her shoulders lowered at his words. “I would truly welcome any suggestions you have as to my duties—”
“Actually, I would like to learn more about you.” Yes, definitely lilies. The realization pleased him more than it should’ve.
The fear in her eyes before she closed them had him watching her closely. Then she met his gaze and drew a deep breath as if to gather her courage. “When I was at the academy, I wasn’t—”
Christopher held up his hand, palm out to stop her. “Not your previous experience or how you were trained. Just about you personally, if that’s not too much to ask.”
“Personally?” Her wrinkled brow suggested he wasn’t making himself clear.
He glanced at the children to make certain they weren’t within hearing distance. “I like you, Miss Tippin.” He paused, dissatisfied. Manners were well and good, but at the moment, he felt restricted by them. “May I call you Amelia?”
“Of course.” A becoming blush stole up her cheeks.
“I’m intrigued by you, and I’d like to know more. If I’m making you uncomfortable or if you’d prefer that our relationship remain on more formal terms, please tell me. I promise not to be offended.”
The surprised pleasure on her face delighted him, releasing the band of tension across his chest. Yet as he watched, that delight faded into a shadow of worry.
“I’d be honored to become better acquainted. But first, there’s something you should know.”
“Oh?” He waited. Whatever she had to say was important based on the worry in her eyes.
“Miss Tippin?” Charlotte interrupted, causing Christopher to reach for his patience.
“Yes?” Amelia turned to the girl who pointed at the library window.
“Grandfather wants your attention.”
Christopher frowned as he watched his father motion for Amelia to come inside. But as soon as his father realized Christopher saw him, he stopped and gave a forced smile. “What on earth?”
Amelia pursed her lips, looking none too pleased with his father either.
“I’ll see what’s amiss,” Christopher said. “Perhaps he’s remembered our meeting at last. If you’ll excuse me.” He offered a smile in the hopes of reassuring her obvious concern. “I look forward to continuing our conversation soon.”
~*~
Amelia watched Christopher walk away, wishing with all her heart she’d told him the truth. She’d been so close. If only the earl hadn’t interrupted them. The older lord had been gesturing for her to come inside as if he’d guessed her intent but hadn’t wanted her to tell Christopher the truth.
Why?
He’d insisted he’d take care of it, but since he had yet to do so, surely, he realized she intended to speak with Christopher.
Her gaze searched the windows, but she couldn’t see the two men. Was the earl telling Christopher at this very moment? Would the truth have been better coming from her? Would he march out here and dismiss her on the spot?
Her heart ached at the thought. To think he’d said he wanted to better know her—her cheeks heated at the possibility of what that meant. Yet how could she allow herself to become excited at the prospect when a falsehood stood between them? She’d wanted to tell him before her feelings became more entangled than they already were.
“Is everything all right, Miss Tippin?” Charlotte asked.
Amelia forced her gaze from the windows, a mix of fear and dread curling in the pit of her stomach. She squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “All is well. You may play for five more minutes before we resume lessons.”
Charlotte scampered off to join her brother but kept a watchful gaze on Amelia. That only made Amelia feel guiltier. Why had she allowed her lie to go this far? If Christopher released her from her position, she wasn’t the only one who’d be hurt. The children would be disappointed as well.
The thought of leaving made her positively ill. She adored the children, she admired the earl, the staff had been friendly, and most of all, she liked Christopher. His affection toward the children and deep regard for his father despite the difficulties of their relationship were admirable.
While she knew she shouldn’t be feeling these things, her emotions were impossible to halt, as if the momentum they carried pulled her in deeper each day.
Her awareness of him was an unexpected boon, something she’d never before experienced. Never mind that he was her employer. Had she misinterpreted his suggestion that he’d like to know her better? Yet when he looked at her with those green eyes with their
golden flecks, she wanted to reach for his hand. When he studied her as if her opinion mattered, something deep inside her melted. And when he complimented her...
She gave herself a mental shake. Forming any sort of attachment to him would be a terrible mistake, regardless of her lie. As a governess, she needed to remember her place. She was not a member of the family and should never presume familiarity. That had been drilled into every person at the academy, including her.
She had her mother to think of as well. Finding another job as a governess without a reference would be nearly impossible. She’d be back to working as a maid.
“Shouldn’t you be doing something productive?” a feminine voice said from a short distance away.
Amelia turned to find Miss Singh staring at her, arms folded in disapproval. “Good morning. The children earned a well-deserved break before we return to our lessons.”
“A break for you or for them?” the woman asked.
Amelia didn’t understand her animosity and wasn’t certain what to do about it.
“Now, Priya, we shouldn’t judge.” Lady Beaumont joined her friend, touching her on the arm as though to calm her. “I’m sure Miss Tippin is doing her best.”
“Hmm. But is that good enough? The children deserve only the very best.”
Lady Beaumont chuckled, but Amelia didn’t find her remark amusing. Amelia gave a polite nod to Lady Beaumont before turning toward her charges. “Children, our time in the garden is at an end. Please greet the ladies before we return inside.”
Charlotte and Ronald hugged their aunt but only offered Miss Singh a verbal greeting before hurrying to take Amelia’s hand.
“I hope you enjoy the garden,” Amelia said and walked back inside, determined not to allow Miss Singh’s remarks to bother her. Not when she had greater concerns over which to worry.
The rest of the morning passed slowly with Amelia startling each time she thought she heard someone approach the schoolroom. But neither Christopher nor his father came.
Had the earl failed to speak with Christopher again? If so, why hadn’t he allowed her to tell him the truth when she’d had the chance? Though it was wrong of her, she had the urge to throttle the earl. No wonder Christopher was often so frustrated with him.
Gambling for the Governess: A Victorian Romance (The Seven Curses of London Book 9) Page 9
