by Olivia Drake
An even more worrisome problem awaited her on the morrow when the true applicant for governess was due to arrive. Tessa wondered if she dared to approach Mr. Banfield on some pretext to discover the name of the employment agency, so that she might secretly send word canceling the appointment. Failing that, perhaps the footman stationed at the front door could somehow be persuaded to turn the woman away …
Debating possible scenarios, she nearly bumped into the duke, who had stopped at the head of the stairs. She caught hold of the carved newel post to steady herself. This upper floor looked nearly as fancy as the lower ones, with large landscape paintings on the walls and a plush carpet runner on the floor.
“I should warn you…” Carlin broke off to scrutinize Tessa. “You’re scowling, Miss James. Having second thoughts?”
A window at the end of the corridor cast a halo of light around his powerful form. But the duke looked nothing like the serene angels that adorned the hymnals at church. His roughly handsome features were hewn from granite and honed by the elements. With his brawny build, he resembled a bare-knuckle bruiser. And his dangerously penetrating gaze made Tessa’s heart thump against her ribs. It was as if he could peer into her mind and see all her secrets.
Bah! The Duke of Carlin had no divine powers. Despite his rank, he was just a man like any other.
She lifted her chin. “No second thoughts, sir. I was merely trying to memorize the layout of the house. It’s larger than the last one where I worked.”
“Ah, yes, the Blanchets. I’ve friends in Northumberland. Perhaps they know your previous employer. You never did mention the name of their town.”
“They don’t live in a town, but out in the country.” Another glib lie rolled off her tongue, inspired by the woodland scene on the wall behind him. “Near a tiny village called Oakville. Now, was there something I needed to know?”
Rather than press further, Carlin merely cocked an eyebrow. “Yes. I expect harmony in my house. No screaming, no mischief, and no tantrums. You’re to keep Sophy in the nursery and not let her wander at will.”
Tessa stared at him, aghast that he’d confine the girl to her rooms. His order would also put a crimp in Tessa’s plan to look around the neighborhood. “Surely you can’t mean to treat your daughter like a prisoner. Children need fresh air and outdoor play.”
“Then take her down to the garden. It’s walled so she can’t run away.”
“What if her behavior improves? Will you reconsider, then?”
“Perhaps.” His tone bristled with doubt that such a miraculous transformation could be achieved. “And let me give you fair warning. Sophy doesn’t always misbehave at first, especially when I am present. She seems to have a fear of me, though I’ve never given her any cause for it.”
His mouth was set in a line of pained frustration. The sight made something melt inside Tessa as it dawned on her that perhaps he wasn’t merely a tyrant demanding obedience. Perhaps he loved his daughter very much. Yet he’d been absent for most of Lady Sophy’s life, and now he must be at his wit’s end as to how to repair the rift between them.
“I expect she finds you to be rather large and fierce looking,” Tessa ventured. “It’s natural for a child to be wary until she comes to trust you. In the meantime, it’s a good sign that she respects your authority.”
“Well, she won’t respect yours,” he growled. “So don’t be duped into lowering your guard.”
He turned on his heel and headed down the passageway. Tessa had to scamper to keep up with his long strides. She hoped his abruptness was based in concern for his daughter. It couldn’t be easy to have half a dozen governesses come and go in the space of a few weeks. He likely expected her to be the seventh failure.
Little did he realize, she understood exactly what it was like to lose the only family one had ever known. To be a motherless little girl thrust into the care of strangers. She, too, had rebelled at first, lashing out in bewildered grief because all that was familiar to her had vanished forever.
And yet, pondering his ominous words, Tessa wondered if she was wrong to think her case was identical to Lady Sophy’s. She herself had never been allowed to run wild. Mama had taught her to be respectful, to say please and thank you, and to share what little they had with others less fortunate.
Lady Sophy lacked that firm foundation. She had a history of being naughty and wicked, quite possibly as a means to draw attention. It would be Tessa’s job to root out the bad habits and instill the rules of proper behavior in a spoiled girl who was accustomed to having her own way.
You have one week—if you can last that long.
As Carlin waited ahead by an open doorway, his ultimatum echoed in her mind. Those second thoughts he’d suspected her of having now struck with a vengeance. Who was she, a hatmaker from the East End, to think she could train the pampered daughter of a duke? Why had she ever boasted to Carlin of having a knack for handling difficult children?
Oh, why had she even come here at all?
To coax a loan from her father to open her shop, Tessa reminded herself. She envisioned a parade of fine ladies stopping to admire the elegant bonnets on display in the bow window, then coming inside to pay exorbitant prices for a Miss James original. How foolish it would be to give up that dream when she’d already overcome the first hurdle.
Mustering a smile, she joined the duke, whose tense expression seemed locked in place. He was the first and only nobleman Tessa had ever met. Rather than feel awed by his superior status, however, she found much about him to pique her curiosity. For one, she sensed a true concern for his daughter beneath his curt manner. For another, she knew that his mouth was not always set in that firm line. When he’d spoken of his travels, his face had lightened with zeal, and she longed to hear more about his adventures on the high seas. She herself had never once set foot outside of London.
He motioned for her to precede him through the doorway. Upon entering, she paused to take stock of the nursery. Located on the top floor, the long, airy room had lemon-yellow walls and a steeply slanted ceiling. The last rays of sunlight glinted through the windows, and a cheery fire on the hearth warded off the nip of autumn. Beside the carved mantelpiece, a middle-aged woman in mobcap and apron snoozed in a rocking chair.
Nearby sat a little girl at a miniature table. This must be Lady Sophy. She had a tail of dark, untidy hair that was haphazardly tied back with a drooping blue ribbon.
Intent on her task, she didn’t look up. Her profile appeared sweet and angelic until Tessa noticed what she was doing. Using a pair of sewing shears, the girl was busily snipping pictures out of a book.
The sight of such vandalism galvanized Tessa. Without thinking, she hastened across the nursery and snatched away the slim volume. Half the pages had already been mangled and ruined. Colorful illustrations of animals lay scattered over the table.
“You mustn’t do such a thing, Lady Sophy. Books should be treated with care, not cut into bits.”
The girl stared up in startlement. She had the delicate features of a fairy with rosebud lips, a button nose, and golden-hazel eyes fringed by long lashes. Purple jam smudged one cheek, while another blob stained her white pinafore.
The hiss of the fire filled the silence. Then pandemonium erupted.
The servant woke with a snort and hefted herself out of the rocking chair. “Wot’s this? Who’re ye, miss?”
At the same time, Lady Sophy dropped the scissors with a clatter and jumped up, knocking over her chair. “That’s mine! You can’t take it!”
She grabbed for the book, but Tessa clutched it to her bosom. “No. Books are meant to be read and cherished, not destroyed on a whim.”
The duke strode forward with sharp footsteps. “Miss James! We agreed on harmony, not mayhem.”
His daughter turned to him, her lower lip thrust out in a pout. “Papa, she stole my book. Make her give it back to me!”
“That wouldn’t be wise, Your Grace,” Tessa murmured. Creating a scene hadn’t
been the ideal way to meet his daughter, but instinct warned her that backing down would only undermine her position.
Gazing at his daughter, Carlin appeared torn by indecision. “The book has already been destroyed. I can buy her another.”
“It would be a poor lesson, though. Rewarding bad behavior only encourages more of it.”
His troubled eyes searched hers for a moment before he gave a stiff nod. “Sophy, this is Miss James, your new governess. You are to do as she says. Miss James, you’ll also wish to meet Lolly, the head nursemaid.”
Lolly bobbed a curtsy in the general direction of Tessa, though her wary gaze was on the duke. “Yer Grace, so sorry fer milady’s untidiness. The wee mite must’ve got in the jam pot afore Winnie took the tea tray below stairs.”
With the hem of her apron, the servant attempted to scrub at the spot on Sophy’s cheek, but the girl twisted free with the slippery agility of an eel.
She stamped her little foot. “Don’t want no stinky governess. ’Specially if she takes my book away!”
“Sophy…” he began in a warning tone.
“I was only cutting out animal pictures to make a circus. ’Cause nobody ever takes me to a real one.”
Sinking down onto the floor, she began to weep loudly, rubbing her eyes in a show of tragic wretchedness. Tessa suspected it to be an act designed to get her way, though Carlin looked stricken. He took a step forward, and before he could take another, Tessa caught hold of his arm to stop him.
Despite the layers of sleeve and shirt, she felt his muscles tense beneath her gloved fingers. He shot her a scowl that made him look remarkably like his angry daughter. Realizing she’d erred in touching his ducal person, Tessa dropped her hand at once. But she was beginning to wonder if he was part of the problem, allowing himself to be manipulated by humbug tears.
“It’s a pity you’re crying,” she told the girl with a sympathetic tsk. “You’ll only make your papa think you’re too babyish to visit the circus.”
Sophy miraculously recovered from the bout of tears and scrambled to her feet. “I’m not a baby! I’m almost five.”
“Five is a very fine age. You’re becoming a big girl and must learn how to behave before you can go to the circus. Now, your papa has work to do. Will you come and give him a kiss goodbye?”
Lowering her chin, Sophy eyed him with sulky mistrust. “No.”
It was clear the girl wouldn’t budge and compelling her to obey would only make matters worse. The duke, on the other hand, regarded his daughter with an expression of strained worry that hinted he was weakening. Tessa couldn’t let that happen.
“All right then, perhaps another time. Shall I walk you to the door, Your Grace?” In full sight of the girl, Tessa handed him the butchered book. “I’m sure you’ll want to take this away with you.”
Carlin reluctantly accepted it. She couldn’t decide if he was more irked at being dismissed by an underling, or if he disliked being compelled to deprive his daughter of her heart’s desire. Whichever the case, she needed him gone before he caved to Sophy’s demands.
Lolly hastened forward to make a fuss over the girl and tidy her hair. Her clucking and Sophy’s protests gave cover to Tessa’s muted conversation with Carlin as they walked to the door.
He aimed a glare at Tessa. “In the future,” he muttered, “I prefer not to be drawn into these nursery battles. Sophy already resents me enough.”
“It’s important that we show a unified front,” Tessa whispered back. “Otherwise she’ll play the two of us off each other.”
“She isn’t so devious!”
“Oh? You’re the one who warned me never to underestimate her.”
He had no ready answer to that impertinent truth, merely giving Tessa one last frown before disappearing out into the corridor. Once he was gone, she blew out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t sacked her on the spot. How strange that she’d never dared to speak to Madame Blanchet in such a cheeky manner but felt at ease to do so with the duke. It made no sense at all.
Before Tessa could ponder the mystery further, a yelp rent the air. Sophy was wiggling in her chair while the maid attempted to comb the girl’s tangled tresses. “Ow, ow! That hurts!”
“’Tis a knot, milady,” Lolly said placatingly. “If ye’ll sit still—”
“No!” Grabbing the comb, Sophy pitched it across the room. “Use the scissors to cut it out.”
Tessa knew it was time to start setting rules. Walking briskly across the nursery, she plucked the scissors from the floor before the maid could do the girl’s bidding. “That’s quite enough,” she told Sophy. “There’ll be no more snipping of hair or destruction of books.”
“Lolly lets me do whatever I want with the scissors.”
“Is that true?” Tessa asked the servant.
The maid shuffled her feet, glancing from Tessa to the girl as if trying to decide which of them to offend. “Only when I’m watchin’. Never thought she’d snitch me shears whilst I nodded off fer a minute.”
The overturned sewing basket lay behind the rocking chair, the spools spilled in colorful disarray. Tessa hid her exasperation. How could anybody be so careless around a mischief-maker, especially when one of the prior governesses had had her hair hacked off during the night? If Tessa couldn’t depend on her fellow employees, it would make her job all the more difficult.
“Henceforth, the scissors will be held by me,” she said, tucking them in her pocket. “Let me know when you need them, Lolly.”
The stout woman nodded, though not without a fearful glance at milady. It was clear the girl reigned as queen bee in the nursery—and she wouldn’t give up her throne very easily.
“What if I want them?” Sophy demanded, her small hands on her hips.
“You’re forbidden for the next week. I’ll decide then if you’re to be trusted with them. It will depend on you being on your best behavior.”
Tessa kept her tone gentle but firm to keep from lighting the fuse of Sophy’s temper. Shouting would only make matters worse. If ever she hoped to win the girl’s cooperation, it would be necessary to calmly stand her ground.
Sophy instantly put that resolve to the test. “I want ’em now. I has to finish my circus!”
“I’m sorry you’re angry. But you’ll have to manage without them.”
The girl screwed up her face into the spiteful mug of an imp. Tessa braced herself for an attack of kicking and biting, but Sophy merely threw herself onto the rug and began to batter the floor with her fists and feet. “I hate you! I hate you! You’re mean!”
Tessa had dealt with weepy little girls in the past, though never with the overindulged daughter of a duke. At the foundling home, children had never dared to throw tantrums lest the matron apply a cane switch to their tender bottoms. It had taken only once for Tessa to learn to save her tears for the dark of night, muffled by the old flour sack that had served as her pillow.
Afraid the noise would carry downstairs, she went to close the door just as a younger maid with curly auburn hair scurried into the nursery. She bobbed a curtsy to Tessa while her dismayed brown eyes fixed on Lady Sophy.
“See if ye can soothe her, Winnie,” Lolly advised.
Winnie crouched beside the girl, rubbing and patting her back, but it only seemed to make Lady Sophy angrier. No amount of petting mollified her. She only squirmed away and increased the volume of her caterwauling.
Just then, Tessa noticed the girl take a peek toward her and Lolly. The scamp was gauging their reaction to her performance. She wanted people to make a fuss, so perhaps that was the key. If everyone ignored her, eventually the girl would realize the futility of her actions.
“Leave her be,” Tessa said. “She’ll stop eventually if no one pays her any mind.”
Winnie sat back on her heels. “But miss! We daren’t let ’er scream.”
“The duke’ll dismiss us all!” Lolly fretted. “Why just this mornin’, ’e sacked Miss Drysdale fer paddlin’ milady an’ makin’ h
er cry.”
“If there’s trouble, I shall explain matters to His Grace,” Tessa said in an elevated tone meant to be heard by little listening ears. “Meanwhile, if Lady Sophy wishes to scream herself hoarse, she’ll only lose her voice. It will be her own fault that she can no longer speak.”
It took only a moment for the tactic to show some degree of success, much to Tessa’s relief. The howling died down to loud snuffling and choked sobs. Sophy scrambled into a sitting position to scrub her eyes with the hem of her pinafore, pausing now and then to sneak a look up at her elders.
Tessa pretended not to notice as she untied the ribbons beneath her chin. “Lolly, will you please show me to my bedchamber? I’d like to put away my bonnet.”
While Winnie kept an eye on the girl, Tessa followed the older woman down a short passage and found herself in a cozy room tucked under the eaves. It was beautifully furnished with a single bed, a washstand, and a small desk made of polished oak. As she set the chip-straw atop a chest of drawers, her gaze was drawn to the window, where blue damask draperies framed a lovely view of the plane trees outside on the square. The leaves had begun to turn yellow and orange with the onset of autumn.
“’Tis a mighty fine bonnet, miss.”
“Thank you, I made it myself.” Noticing the maid’s puzzlement, Tessa quickly glossed over the unwitting remark. “Trimming hats is a little hobby of mine. My, this is a pretty room. The other governesses must have been reluctant to leave it.”
“All they done was grumble,” Lolly said, shaking her head. “Threadbare rug, a lumpy mattress, no bolt on the door.”
Tessa thought the lock would be useful to prevent nighttime mischief perpetrated by Lady Sophy but had no other objection once she’d sat on the bed to test it. The room even had a small fireplace, a luxury compared with her tiny, unheated flat. “I think it’s all perfectly comfortable. Do you suppose anyone will object if I leave for a short while to collect my trunk?”
