The Mysteries of A Lady's Heart: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Collection

by Abby Ayles

  “I do have a concern, however, that I hoped you might help me unravel.”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Brennon said as the tea was set before them and served.

  “I need to go to town to get some items. Unfortunately, the earl has expressed that I shan’t go without his accompanying me.”

  The housekeeper nodded her head in understanding.

  “I would hate to be such a burden on him. I wondered if perhaps you need to go to town sometime in the future and I could accompany you. If Lord Grimshaw fears for my safety outside the estate surely your company or perhaps Mary’s would be enough to satisfy him.”

  “I can assure you that his rules have nothing to do with danger at Concordshire. It is a most peaceful place and there is certainly nothing like the ruffians of London to worry about,” she added with distaste.

  Hannah gathered that Mrs. Brennon didn’t care for the city.

  “Then why have such a silly rule?” Hannah asked with a lump in her throat.

  She had hoped that he would not be as controlling as the baron but could see no other reason why he would put such demands on her as to have control over her at all times.

  “Did the earl tell you the nature of the last governess’s departure?”

  “I only know that she met a gentleman and was married.”

  “Yes, a kind man from the local parish. He was a student of the vicar and has since left to take on his own parish. It was very hard on the girls.”

  “Lord Grimshaw told me as much and I could easily tell from them.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Brennon agreed meditatively. “I believe he is hesitant to let another governess go the same way. He would do anything to shield those girls from heartbreak. I can’t blame him for that.”

  “Nor I,” Hannah had to agree. “But certainly, I cannot be held accountable for someone else’s choice. I can promise you I have no desire to find a husband or marry,” Hannah continued, tugging on her plain brown muslin dress.

  “Give him time and I am sure he will soften. Until then I would suggest adhering to his requirements. He is very protective of his children and would not take lightly to any act that he would consider a threat to their happiness.”

  “I am sorry but I cannot bring myself to ask him to accompany me to town.”

  “I assure you that despite his large stature he is a very gentle man. You would find his company most agreeable.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but it wouldn’t be appropriate and I can’t do it,” Hannah said vehemently.

  “Well, I know that Mary goes to town on Saturdays as well. I am sure she would be more than happy to pick up whatever you might need, or mail any letters you might have.”

  Hannah sat as she considered Mrs. Brennon’s words. She had rather hoped the lady would have just agreed that going with another member of the staff was good enough.

  She couldn’t risk the earl’s wrath and subsequent dismissal. Mrs. Brennon might have thought he was somehow gentle below that dark exterior. Certainly she had seen such with his daughters, but she didn’t for a second consider that to extend to herself.

  If her only two choices were to be subject to a private audience with the earl or being confined to the manor as a prison, she would have to take the latter.

  She wouldn’t lose this job for the sake of the girls and her own livelihood, but that wouldn’t for a second lead her to giving up her morals. She had fought off the baron; she was sure she could withstand the Earl of Grimshaw as well.

  ***

  Hannah left Mrs. Brennon’s office not with the end result she desired but at least a resolution to her problems. She would seek Mary out. Hopefully, she hadn’t already left for town.

  Much to her satisfaction, she found Mary seated in the staff common area and she was happy to pick up the needed items on behalf of Hannah.

  Hannah was making her way down the hall back to her quarters. She rather thought since she wasn’t able to make the trip to town, she would select a book from her room and spend some time in the garden.

  “Well, look who has found her way downstairs,” a man’s voice called from behind her.

  She whipped around to find Mr. Poole, the footman, leaning against a door frame she had just passed. She rather thought to just keep walking on and ignore him altogether.

  “How are you finding Brighton Abby, Miss Jacobson?” he asked, rubbing his hands on a cloth and taking a step towards her.

  Though she had at first had uneasy thoughts of the gentleman she thought it innocent enough conversation, so she turned fully to answer him.

  “Very well, thank you, Mr. Poole. Everyone has been most welcoming to me.”

  “I’m sure they have,” he said, eyeing the edge of her cap.

  She had a sudden urge to pull it down tighter around her hair and pull up her fichu all at the same time.

  He continued to slowly walk forward until he was far too close to her. She meant to take a step back but he instantly put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Poole,” she said, trying to shake off his grip unsuccessfully. “I really must be going.”

  “What’s the hurry?” he asked as a thumb rubbed against the fabric of her dress.

  She tried again to step away from him but instead, he used the movement to push her against the hall wall. Tucking the cloth in his back pocket he placed his other hand against the wall, completely blocking her in.

  “I can’t help but wonder what you are hiding under all that fabric, Miss Jacobson,” he said, looking her over with hungry eyes.

  Her heart was pounding in her chest and she wanted to scream.

  His hand moved from her shoulder and she felt his fingers run along the edge of her white fichu. She felt him tug at it.

  With a gasp, she reached up to stop him, but instead, he grabbed her wrist and held it tight. He continued to tug at the white fabric until one side was completely out.

  “Please, stop Mr. Poole. I will scream,” Hannah said, mustering all the courage that she had.

  He paid her no mind and successfully removed the garment, exposing the top of her full chest.

  “Why Miss Jacobson, you were hiding something magnificent under all that fabric. What will I see when I remove your cap next? Perhaps beautiful blonde hair? Or rich dark brown? Or shall I be surprised by a redhead? You certainly have the milky white skin to go with fairer hair.”

  He ran one finger along the edge of her gown. It seemed he either didn’t believe she would scream or didn’t care.

  “Mr. Poole, you will remove your hand from me this instant, or I shall go straight to the earl about your unseemly behavior.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you will,” Mr. Poole said, smiling with satisfaction at her defiant glare.

  “I am all too aware that the earl has forbidden you from having any interaction with the opposite sex. You tell him and I will simply counter that you came on to me. Who do you think Lord Grimshaw will believe more? A long-time employee or the new governess?”

  Hannah opened and closed her mouth a few times in panic. Mr. Poole was absolutely right. If the lord confronted them both, who was to say that he would believe her.

  Mr. Poole smiled in satisfaction knowing that he was right in his line of thought.

  “Now, take off that cap for me, so that I may finally learn the color of that hair. I believe that will be a good place to start anyway.”

  Tears welled in Hannah’s eyes. She would not give him the satisfaction of obeying but was also terrified that she would have no way out of this situation.

  “Mr. Poole, have you finished with the silverware yet?” a man’s voice called from down the hall.

  Whether the man could see that Mr. Poole had her pinned up against the wall she was unsure, but she didn’t wait to find out. As soon as Mr. Poole turned in the direction of the voice, she swatted his hand and ran as fast as her skirts would allow, leaving her fichu behind.

  She paused just before turning to the stairs that led up to the main ho
use and her own room. Mr. Poole had picked up the lost garment. He held it to his nose and took a deep breath before opening his eyes again directly on her.

  She felt a fearful shiver run down her spine at his glare. She may have escaped him, but it was clear he wasn’t going to give up.

  With hot tears streaming down her face she ran the length to her room and locked the door behind her. Throwing herself onto the bed, she melted into a hysterical cry.

  Again, she was to be tormented by a man. All the images of the baron came back to her. All the times he cornered her, made excuses to get her alone in his office, and even made advances on her in front of his son.

  In the end, word had traveled to his wife and the baron had insinuated that Hannah was the cause all along. He claimed she had tempted him with her beauty and promiscuous ways.

  It was no more Hannah’s fault that she had looked the pretty miss than a plain one. Yet the baroness had believed her husband and Hannah was dismissed with a stained reputation and no hope of another situation.

  She was sure that with her new plan to completely cover every inch of her body, there would have been no question to her virtue or any infringement on it. She had been so wrong.

  It seemed that no matter where she found herself, she would be helpless to stop rakes and their desire to take from her flesh.

  Chapter 7

  “Hannah,” Baron Edgley’s voice echoed in the darkness.

  She wasn’t sure exactly where she was, only that she had been wondering in the dark for some time now. At the sound of his voice, her own caught in her throat.

  Hannah ran the space of the darkness looking for some way out as his taunting seemed to grow closer and closer.

  Finally, she could make out a dim light in the distance and she ran for it. The closer she got the more she realized it was the crack of a door and the light of freedom and safety just beyond.

  “Hannah, my pet. There is no reason to play so coy with me.”

  The voice was getting ever closer from behind as Hannah, heaving against her stays, did her best to run for the door.

  Finally, she gripped the handle and used it to pull herself into the room. She fell in exhausting only to realize that it wasn’t the ground that had caught her.

  She looked up, her eyes following the hands, up the arms, to the shoulders, and then the face.

  “Why Miss Jacobson,” Mr. Poole said with that sickly smile planted on his narrow face. “No need to throw yourself at me.”

  Hannah struggled to get up and away but the arms that had caught her now tightened their grip till she squealed out in pain.

  Holding her tight he lifted her to her feet and pinned her hard against the wall.

  “Help!” she screamed with all her might.

  “Shout all you want,” he said, pushing his body against her own. “There is no one to hear you here.”

  He licked his lips as his eyes fell down the length of her body. With one swift movement of his hand, he grabbed the top of her dress and ripped it, exposing her undergarments and bare shoulder.

  He kissed her neck and shoulder and she screamed again. His head lifted this time showing the face of Baron Edgley.

  “Leave me alone!” she screamed as she beat against the man to no avail.

  He ravaged her again along her neck and collarbone. This time when he rose, he was yet again Mr. Poole.

  Grabbing both shoulders with his painful grip he lifted her off her feet and threw her across the room onto a lounge.

  Hannah fell with a hard thud against the cushions and screamed with all her might as he walked slowly towards her, a horrid smile ever-present on his thin lips.

  Hannah bolted upright in her bed. The sound of her own screams had woken her and in the darkness, she wasn’t sure if she was truly awake or if the nightmare only continued.

  She struggled to catch her breath when heavy quick steps ended with her bedroom door bursting open.

  Hannah screamed again instinctively and jumped from the bed.

  “What? What is it?” a deep hoarse voice demanded.

  She scarcely saw the figure of the earl by the candle he held but the image didn’t register. Instead, she reached for the first object she could, a book on the table next to her bed, and chucked it at him.

  “I won’t let you near me!” Hannah screamed.

  Lord Grimshaw instinctively blocked the book that was thrown at him, completely baffled by her actions. Was she mad?

  He reached forward and grabbing one elbow he shook her good and hard.

  “Miss Jacobson, what’s the matter with you?”

  She seemed to snap out of it with the shake. She looked around the room, startled and bewildered. One hand cupped her mouth and large tears spilled from her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” she muffled, finally waking up.

  Grimshaw set the candlestick on the table that had once held the book and ever so gently took a step closer to her.

  “I heard screams. I thought something might be…was it a dream?” he asked, still trying to piece together all that had just happened.

  All she could do was nod her head while she still held her mouth. She was shaking uncontrollably and Grimshaw was sure that at any moment she would crumple into a heap on the ground.

  Instincts kicked in and he pulled her to his chest. She didn’t fight the action, instead, she fell against him and let her sobs out full force.

  “Hush now, Miss Jacobson. It is all right,” he cooed with his chin resting against the top of her head. “It was just a dream, nothing more.”

  As Grimshaw held her he allowed one massive hand to rub up and down her back to soothe her. His eyes were caught by the long gold braid that shimmered in the little candlelight that went the length of her back.

  He absentmindedly wondered how she fit such a long golden lock under such a small cap.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” Grimshaw said against her hair as she finally started to calm down.

  It was as if the words woke her for a second time. She took a step back and out of his arms. Though he let her go without a fight he immediately felt an empty cold where she had been against him.

  “I’m sorry, forgive me, Lord Grimshaw,” she stammered.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, no doubt to hide the state of undress though he was sure he had never seen a plainer and more modest dressing gown.

  “There is nothing to forgive,” Grimshaw said in a soft voice much like when one of the girls was upset.

  “Yes, I woke you up in the middle of the night. I can’t imagine the disturbance I’ve caused. Please forgive me. It won’t happen again, I promise,” Miss Jacobson murmured, her blue eyes fuller of fear than tears now.

  “Come, it is alright,” Grimshaw said, taking another step forward.

  She took a fearful step back, however, and that stopped him in his tracks. Grimshaw was used to being feared because of his overpowering features, but for some reason, it pained him tonight to see her terror.

  “If you are sure you are alright, I will leave you then,” he said, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I will send someone up with a cup of tea to calm your nerves.”

  It was a statement, not a question, and for once Hannah was okay with his demanding nature. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to fall back asleep ever again after that dream, but the warm drink would be a welcome comfort.

  “Would you like me to also leave the candle?” he asked, his big brown eyes seemingly full of compassion.

  She should have said no. She had candles already in the room, but this one was already lit and that brought her comfort too.

  “Yes, please,” Hannah said softly.

  Lord Grimshaw nodded in understanding. He turned to leave but turned back around, “If you ever need to talk about,” he hesitated, “anything…I am here to listen.”

  Hannah took in the weight of his words. It was very kind of him, but at the moment she couldn’t bear to say the words to anyone. Certainly n
ot to him. Lord Grimshaw would take her words to Poole and then the accusation would turn onto her.

  All she could do was nod before watching him leave the room with a soft click of the door behind her.

  ***

  Grimshaw was feeling rather ridiculous with himself as he fixed his knot after his valet had done it. Nothing seemed to be sitting right this Sunday morning.

  Try as he might to tell himself that it had nothing to do with Miss Jacobson joining them in their pew today at church, or the fact that since his sudden encounter with Miss Jacobson last night in her room he hadn’t been able to shake the memory of her from his mind.