by Olivia Drake
“I-I feared that might happen, and I’m very sorry for the ruse, Your Grace. If I may explain why—”
“Save your excuses. Since you weren’t sent by any employment agency, tell me how you learned of this position.”
“I overheard two ladies talking in a shop.” He needn’t know she’d been an employee, not another customer. “They mentioned that you’d lost half a dozen governesses in the past month or so, and that your daughter was in need of someone with the skill to handle her. It seemed ideally suited to me, so I came at once to apply.”
“It never occurred to you to first seek the sanction of an agency?”
“There wasn’t time. Had I done so, someone else might have been hired in my place.”
“Or perhaps you wished to avoid scrutiny altogether. Due to your lack of any recommendation from a prior employer.”
The sarcasm in his voice daunted Tessa. She greatly disliked the need to compound her lies when the duke was only a father looking out for his daughter’s welfare. Yet what other choice did she have?
She gazed up at him through the fringe of her lashes. “I confess, no such letter exists. You see, I was dismissed from my last position without reference. Mrs. Blanchet accused me of … of making eyes at her husband. But I assure you, sir, it was not true! I would never behave in such a manner.”
It took every particle of her willpower to meet his gaze without flinching. Though guilt over the deception gnawed at her, Carlin mustn’t guess she was a lowly hatmaker who had grown up in an orphanage, or that she had taken this position in the hope of discovering the identity of her noble father.
Those secrets surely could cause no harm, Tessa rationalized. To make amends, she would do her very best for his daughter—if only the duke would allow her to stay.
“So you expect me to accept your word on this,” he said coolly. “The problem, Miss James, is that you are a proven liar.”
She laced her fingers together at her waist. “Only by necessity, Your Grace. No one would hire me without reference, and I could not lower myself to … to those vocations to which desperate ladies turn.”
“You could have thrown yourself on the mercy of one of your many siblings.”
Oh, dear. She had fibbed about that, too, since the other orphans had been like a family to her. “I come from an impoverished background,” she hedged, sticking close to the truth. “Perhaps it’s difficult for a man of your rank to understand, but … my salary is greatly needed.”
With the lazy grace of a cat, the duke prowled toward Tessa and stopped in front of her. His nearness increased the trembling disturbance in her depths. With his coal-black hair and intense brown eyes, he commanded her full attention. He was tall and muscled, the epitome of a gentleman in his tailored blue coat and buff breeches. Yet he had an untamed quality that must draw ladies to him in flocks.
“Or perhaps that’s another of your havey-cavey tales,” he said. “My daughter’s governess must be of sterling character. I won’t have a con artist teaching her.”
Tessa elevated her chin. “I may have embroidered the truth a bit, but I am not a criminal. I’ll take excellent care of Lady Sophy. In fact, I daresay I’ll be a good deal better than those agency-approved governesses who darted off at the first sign of trouble.”
“Oh? Then why was Sophy screaming last evening—so loudly that my aunt could hear her on the floor below?”
“You should know by now that your daughter kicks up a fuss over practically everything. It will take time to break her of that bad habit. But I’m already making some progress. Just this morning, we had a pleasant episode creating a circus with her toy animals.”
At least it had been pleasant until Sophy had lost her temper.
Tessa had had trouble in coaxing the girl to sit still and learn her alphabet. To make matters worse, she’d been frazzled with worry over the arrival of the real governess. When Sophy’s naughtiness had nearly driven her to the brink, in desperation Tessa had abandoned the lessons and knelt down by the bins that overflowed with playthings. On the rug, she began to arrange the toy animals into a circus. Sophy had stared suspiciously at first but quickly took charge of the show that included an elephant, several horses, a lion, a monkey, and a spotted long-necked creature that the girl called a graffe. They’d enjoyed a delightful half hour making the beasts perform tricks—until Tessa had rummaged in the toy chest and discovered a stuffed cow.
All she’d done was ask if the cow was named Moo-Moo.
The simple question had ruined Sophy’s good humor. At once, the girl had attacked the circus, flinging animals everywhere and making a shambles of the nursery. Not even Lolly or Winnie had been able to soothe her anger.
“You were supposed to be teaching my daughter her numbers and letters, not playing games.”
Carlin’s voice snapped Tessa back to the present. Returning her attention to him, she said, “About this nanny that your aunt mentioned—Mooney. Did Lady Sophy by chance call her Moo-Moo?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“Last night, when I went to check on your daughter, she murmured the name in her sleep. She sounded so very sad that it broke my heart.”
Tessa made no attempt to disguise the ache of that distressing incident. It clarified so much about the girl that Carlin needed to grasp. And she was relieved to see the frown on his face ease into something approaching concern.
“Mooney was a longtime retainer of Lord and Lady Norwood, Sophy’s grandparents,” he said. “She retired to live with a niece in Essex when I brought Sophy here. She was old, ornery, and negligent.”
The Norwoods were the parents of Carlin’s late wife, Tessa recalled. She found herself intensely curious about his marriage. “Was Mooney nanny to the duchess when she was a little girl?”
The brief softening of his expression evaporated. She glimpsed a hint of pain before his features became inscrutable. “Yes, though I gained the title only last year, so my wife was never duchess. But enough of these questions. It is you, Miss James, who is under review, not me.”
Tessa realized she’d committed a grave impertinence. She oughtn’t be probing into his personal life, especially if he was still grieving the loss of his beloved. “Pardon me, Your Grace,” she murmured. “I’m merely trying to understand the situation for Lady Sophy’s sake. If the Norwoods knew Mooney had grown too old, why didn’t they replace her?”
“I instructed them to do so, but they never did. They were too busy with their social life to pay much heed to Sophy’s upbringing. While abroad, I was concerned by the infrequency of their letters, but I attributed it to the inefficiency of the overseas mail. I never realized the full extent of the problem until my return.”
Veering away, Carlin stalked to the window to stare out into the sunshine. Tessa’s heart twisted in response to his bitter admission. Evidently, the duke blamed himself for the state of affairs as much as the grandparents. He was determined to mend his daughter’s conduct but kept being thwarted in his search for the right governess.
Tessa had only added to his burden.
Pricked by shame, she yearned to absolve herself by reforming Lady Sophy. Yet Tessa knew she needed to tread carefully. Never had she been more aware of her ignorance of aristocratic life. There was so much she didn’t know, including the proper age at which a child graduated from a nanny to a governess.
Tessa ventured a few steps closer. Somehow she must convince him that her skills were unique. “Your Grace, I believe there may be some truth to what Lady Victor said. Given Sophy’s unruly behavior, perhaps she does still need a nanny.”
The duke pivoted toward her. “Nonsense, she’ll turn five in a few weeks. That’s old enough to begin her schooling. Encouraging babyish conduct will only compound the problem.”
“Yet your daughter was very attached to Mooney. Lady Sophy must be sad to have lost the one person who was like a mother to her. And that may very well be affecting her behavior.”
“I won’t have that woma
n in my house, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“No, of course not,” Tessa said hastily. “Only that your daughter needs love more than schoolwork right now. And pray don’t give me that mocking stare, please. Sophy’s world has been turned upside down. Until I gain her trust, it will be difficult to teach her letters and sums. What I’m trying to say is that she needs someone who can be a blend of both nanny and governess.”
He had been listening intently, but now one corner of his mouth took on an ironic twist. “Let me guess. You see yourself in that role, Miss James.”
Like Sophy’s, his brown eyes had a golden tint in the sunlight, and his jaw was set at the same stubborn angle. For all his size and rank, the duke could be just as combative as his daughter. With both of them, it was important to stand her ground.
“Yes, I do,” she said firmly. “If you sack me, you will continue to lose governesses and Sophy’s poor behavior will become all the more entrenched. I very much doubt you’ll find any agency governess willing to demean herself by taking on the additional job of nanny. Nor will any of them get down on the floor and play circus with milady.”
He frowned slightly at that last bit. Had she said something wrong?
Perhaps he found her entire proposition to be absurd. From what Tessa had gathered, nannies and governesses came from different worlds, one from the servant class and the other from the gentry. Melding their roles simply wasn’t done. But she had to try. It was the only way to accomplish what was paramount, and that was to keep her post in this house.
The duke startled her by chuckling. “A pity women can’t stand for Parliament, Miss James. You’re as persuasive as any seasoned politician.”
“I trust that means you’ll vote for me to stay.”
“Under one condition.” His intent stare quickened her heartbeat. “Should I discover you’ve told me any other lies, it shall be grounds for immediate dismissal.”
Chapter 5
Several afternoons later, a footman delivered a note to the schoolroom along with the tea tray. Tessa waited until he was gone before she broke the wax seal. To her surprise, it was from Sukie at the millinery shop. Before she could do more than frown at the brief message, the tapping of footsteps distracted her.
Miss Knightley stepped through the doorway. Tall and slender, she wore a modest gray gown with a starched spinster’s cap on her chestnut curls. Her mouth was curved in a smile that lent a quiet beauty to her classic features.
“May I come in, Miss James?”
Tessa stuffed the note into her pocket where she kept the scissors. “Of course. Was there something you needed?”
“Only a bit of company if you’re not too busy. Lady Victor is napping, and I’d hoped to discover how you’ve been getting on here.” Walking closer, Miss Knightley glanced around the nursery with its little tables and the tidied stacks of books and toys. “Where is Lady Sophy, by the by?”
“Napping as well. I’ve found that an afternoon rest makes for a happier child. The only problem is convincing her to remain in bed for an hour.”
“I’ve often faced a similar situation with Lady Victor. Tell me, what is your trick?”
“A promised treat if she’s good. I’ll read her a book, we’ll play hopscotch in the garden, or her favorite, create a circus with her toy animals.”
Miss Knightley laughed, a sparkle in her green eyes. “Alas, none of those things will work with my mistress. But often Lady Victor takes a draught of laudanum to help her sleep soundly, and I am free to do as I please.”
Delighted by the prospect of having a friend in the house, Tessa waved at the tray. “I was about to have tea. Will you join me, Miss Knightley?”
“Why, I’d love to. But only if you’ll call me Avis. It seems forever since anyone has addressed me by my given name.”
“I’m Tessa. And I do understand how one can feel alone even when surrounded by a company of people.” She wistfully recalled chatting with Sukie and Nell as the three of them stitched in the back room of the millinery shop. Conversing with a child and the nursery staff just wasn’t the same.
Tessa fetched another chair and they sat down at the sturdy oak table that served as a desk for the governess. She poured tea into a porcelain cup for Avis, using for herself an extra mug stored on a nearby shelf.
She offered her guest a dish containing a lavish array of pastries. “I must thank you for saving me from stuffing myself. The kitchen always sends far too much for one person. It’s so delicious, I’m tempted to eat every bite.”
Sampling a piece of gingerbread, Avis gave her a curious glance. “Did you not have a decent cook at your previous post, then?”
“It was a smaller place, so I’m not accustomed to luxury,” Tessa said with careful vagueness. “I’d never have stood a chance of working in a ducal household had not Lady Sophy driven off the more qualified governesses.”
“Why, you must be perfectly qualified! His Grace would never have employed you otherwise.”
Avis didn’t know she was drinking tea with a fraud, Tessa thought guiltily. She had the precarious sense of living on borrowed time, especially in light of the disturbing note she’d just received from Sukie. It seemed Madame Blanchet had been spreading the word among the other milliners in London that Tessa had stolen a hat.
Her stomach churned. She’d only taken the chip-straw bonnet as compensation for the month’s salary she was owed, and after Madame had scorned her design. But now she had been branded a thief.
Lud, how could she clear her name? Would it affect her ability to open her shop? Worse, what if she lost her post here as governess before finding her father? How would she earn a living if no hatmaker would hire her?
The duke’s sharp words needled her memory. Should I discover you’ve told me any other lies, it shall be grounds for immediate dismissal.
That mustn’t happen. Carlin must never, ever learn the truth about her past. Now, more than ever, it was vital for her to guard that secret.
“You’re frowning,” Avis said in concern. “Are things so difficult here in the nursery? I was hoping you might be the one governess who will stay.”
Picking up a cream bun, Tessa managed a smile. “I’m hoping that, too. I’ve made some progress with Sophy. Although she still fusses if she doesn’t get her way, it helps to remain calm and give her a reason to behave.”
“The treats you mentioned.”
“That and teaching her that she cannot always have whatever she wishes. I want her to realize she’ll appreciate something more if she earns it.”
“Alas, that can be a hard notion for children of the nobility to grasp. If their sense of privilege isn’t nipped in the bud, they will grow up to believe themselves entitled to whatever they please.”
Tessa detected a note of bitter experience underlying those words. Was it in the distant past or in Avis’s present situation? “Lady Victor seems a fretful employer,” she ventured. “Though perhaps I oughtn’t make assumptions based on one brief meeting.”
“She can be a trial,” Avis admitted with a wry twist of her lips. “Only because her glum nature has a tendency to wear one down after a time. It’s a relief to have a few moments to myself.”
Tessa had the sense that wasn’t quite the issue weighing on Avis, but felt their friendship was too new to allow for prying. “Have you been here long at Carlin House?”
“Nearly five years, ever since her ladyship was widowed. I was glad for the position since my own papa had died and left me quite penniless. And really, you mustn’t think badly of Lady Victor. Her air of melancholy is largely due to all the deaths in the family.”
“Is that what she meant by the Carlin Curse?” Tessa had been curious but hadn’t known who to ask. “I overheard part of the conversation the other morning. The duke seemed annoyed by the term.”
“His Grace doesn’t wish to put ideas in the minds of gossips. But I don’t suppose the family’s string of misfortunes is any secret.” A somber look on
her face, Avis took a sip of tea. “You see, the previous Duke of Carlin had three sons. The eldest, Lord Fenwick, drowned in a yachting accident three years ago, along with his heir. The following year, the second son, Lord Nigel, the present duke’s father, contracted a deadly digestive ailment. The third son, Lord Victor, had already been slain by highwaymen.”
Her stomach curdling, Tessa lost interest in the unfinished cream bun. Poor Lady Victor. That explained why the woman had looked so mournful. Her thoughts strayed to the duke, who had left England after suffering the death of his wife. He surely had been grief-stricken to lose so many other close relatives, too.
“Am I correct to assume that all this happened while the present duke was away on his around-the-world tour?”
“Yes, including the passing of the old duke, his grandfather, last year. It was a heart seizure that took him in his sleep.” Avis released a long sigh. “I am sorry to have spoiled our tea with such sad tidings. But it will help you understand why Lady Victor has become very protective of her son.”
“Surely she can’t believe he would suffer such a fate, too.”
“My mistress has a proclivity always to fear the worst, especially now that he’s the duke’s heir. The matter has caused considerable strife between her and Mr. Edgar, who only wishes to go about as all young gentlemen do. But at least he has an ally in His Grace.”
Tessa was about to ask Avis to elaborate when the sudden noise of an argument emanated from the passageway. She recognized that childish whine and the scolding of an elderly dame.
When it didn’t subside, she pushed back her chair. “Speaking of strife, please excuse me for a moment.”
Tessa followed the sound of the quarreling voices. Sophy’s door stood ajar, but surprisingly, the altercation came from Tessa’s bedchamber. As she stepped inside, her eyes widened to see the girl across the room, kneeling beside the open trunk.
Lolly stood with her plump form bent down toward Sophy. The two were engaged in a tug-of-war over a small tin box gripped in Sophy’s hands.
