The Governess's Scandalous Marriage

by Helen Dickson

  ‘Thank you for pulling me out of the rose bush,’ Linnet went on, ‘but if you don’t mind, I think I should be getting back.’

  They walked side by side in silence, each trying to analyse their thoughts after what had just occurred between them. Walking through a dark tunnel of high laurels, Lord Blakely reached out to take her hand. Linnet knew she should refuse to take it. Instead she gave a tiny laugh, trying to make light of it.

  ‘What is this, Lord Blakely? Are you afraid I might fall into another rose bush?’

  There was a long, strained pause and he never took his eyes off her. ‘I am not afraid of what you might do, Miss Osborne. It is what I would do, or might not be able to stop myself doing if you were to do that.’

  There was another strained pause as they continued walking towards the house. They didn’t speak. Linnet didn’t know if it was the warm, damp air or the churning of her stomach, but she was finding it hard to breath because she wanted him to touch her.

  Turning her head, she glanced at him, noting the silver scar on the side of his face, and wondered how he had come to be wounded. The disfigurement did not detract from his good looks—in fact, in some strange way, it enhanced them. She found herself wanting to reach up and trace it with her fingers, remembering its smoothness when her eyes had been covered by the scarf when she had been playing the game with the other girls.

  ‘You’re wondering how I came by my scar, aren’t you?’

  Linnet almost gasped at being caught out, but found herself smiling instead. ‘One can’t help but notice something like that? I—hope you are not offended.’

  ‘Not at all. The answer is very simple. As a seven-year-old boy I fell on the ice when I was attempting to skate. So, you see, no tales of fencing or any other act of bravado, I’m afraid.’

  That might be so, Linnet thought, but she was certain Lord Blakely would be well skilled in the art of swordplay.

  Reaching the terrace, hearing the music, the clinking of glasses and laughter, Linnet became still, reluctant to become a part of it.

  * * *

  Christian stood quite still, studying the exposed flesh of her neck and watching the dappled lantern light bring out a multitude of glorious lights in her hair. Fashioned in intricate curls, what had not become loosened in the rose bush was held in place by small, decorative tortoiseshell combs. He wanted to remove them so that all her hair could fall free, so that he could run his fingers through the heavy mass.

  ‘Will you not go inside?’ he asked softly, sensing her reluctance.

  She laughed lightly. ‘Looking like this?’ she said, indicating the sorry state of her gown. ‘No. I think not. I will go to my room by a staircase used by the servants and hope no one sees me.’

  ‘Will your aunt not query your absence?’

  ‘No. Believe me, Lord Blakely,’ she said, looking at his deep, dark eyes fringed by long silken lashes and well-defined brows, ‘I am the last person my aunt will miss.’

  He looked down at her upturned face and then, quite unexpectedly, he took her fingers in his and kissed her hand gently. She smiled suddenly. Clearly the pleasure of his touch, of his lips on her flesh, took her by surprise. The intimacy of the moment reached out to some unknown part of them both, which they had not been aware they possessed. It touched and lightened some dark place they had not before now been aware of, but it was elusive and was soon gone when he released her fingers.

  ‘Goodnight,’ she said softly. ‘Perhaps I will see you at breakfast.’

  ‘Perhaps—although I intend leaving early.’

  * * *

  On that note Linnet left him standing in the shadows on the terrace, completely unaware as she did so of her Aunt Lydia regarding them from the terrace with an attentive expression in her eyes, having watched as Lord Blakely raised Linnet’s hand to his lips and lingered on it overlong, and Linnet was content to let him.

  Linnet would have been mortified to know that her aunt was not the only witness to the touching goodnight scene between her and Lord Blakely. Several guests had come out on to the terrace and, from the expressions on their faces as they glanced from Linnet’s torn gown to the impeccably dressed gentleman kissing her hand, it was obvious that they had drawn their own conclusions, ranging from amused curiosity to censorious.

  Christian watched her go, feeling bemused and intrigued in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He smiled, pleasantly uplifted by the time he had spent in her company and hungry for more. She was truly a delight and alluring. The scent of her gentle floral perfume still clung to him. The kiss had affected him more than he realised. He felt burned—scorched—by her beauty. He was quite bewildered by the emotion he felt in the part of his body where he supposed his heart lay.

  He couldn’t describe what he felt because he didn’t have any words. He was drawn by the sincerity in her gaze. The primal rush of attraction he felt for her surprised him. He wanted her with a kind of hunger he hadn’t known in a long time. A good deal of it was sexual, but not all of it. He was aware of a swelling ache in his groin, but his desire went deeper than lust. For a moment he felt his resistance waver. It pulled him up short. It was a warning, but a warning all the same.

  He intended leaving the next day. And yet he wasn’t ready to give up this bright-eyed young woman just yet.

  Chapter Five

  Not until she was in her room with the door closed did Linnet’s mind come together from the far reaches of her senses, where it had fled the instant Lord Blakely had taken her in his arms, and realise the full impact of what she had done. As she sat in front of the mirror staring at the devastation of her hair, she took a moment to consider her situation. She was disquieted. She remembered how it had felt to be held by him, how secure she had felt in his arms. Despite her sorry state after falling into the rose bush, she had been almost smothered by his nearness, by the heady smell of him, a clean masculine scent that had shot like tiny darts through her senses and evoked a rush of pleasure that flooded through her. He had been so close he seemed a part of her.

  As Linnet went from day to day with no other thought in her head than how she was going to make ends meet, she had not thought for one moment that she would meet a man of Lord Blakely’s ilk. Because she had no experience of men like him, being gullible and blind to everything but the devastatingly handsome man she had met at Stourbridge House, she had been drawn to him in the most inexplicable way.

  When she finally climbed into bed, she closed her eyes. Again she saw the dark eyes and sighed deeply, a ragged sigh that tugged at her chest. It had been wrong of her to divulge so much about herself and Toby’s affairs to Lord Blakely, but he had a way of drawing a person out of one’s self.

  Unable to sleep, she got up and went to the window, pulling aside the heavy curtains and looking out at the moonlit garden and seeing and hearing a few late revellers continuing to enjoy the festivities. A curious warmth crept through her body and again she sighed and went back to bed. Nothing helped her. She could not sleep. She could do nothing but think about Lord Blakely and that warm rush of feeling when he had kissed her. His kiss had been lethal, stripping away her resolve, and she realised she had cause to fear for she had become susceptible. He had aroused a yearning inside her for a repeat of his attentions. She realised she was in danger of falling in love with him and it scared her.

  She mentally shook herself as she realised where her mind was wandering. How could she think of him in that way? What did any of it matter? If she didn’t see him at breakfast, then she would probably never see him again.

  * * *

  The following morning before breakfast Lady Milton summoned her nephew and niece to her presence in a small sitting room set aside for her personal use. She was seated in her favourite chair by the window overlooking the gardens and did not trouble herself to rise when they entered. The coldness of her expression conveyed very clearly that what she had to say to
them would not be pleasant.

  ‘Sit down.’ Doing as she ordered, they sat together on a sofa, facing her, unable to conceal their unease. ‘I have been approached by Sir George Mortimer, Toby, with regards to his daughter. It would appear she is quite enamoured of you. It did not escape my notice that you were together a great deal during the dancing. I have to ask you if you reciprocate her feelings?’

  ‘Yes, Aunt Lydia. Yes—I mean—I do have feelings for her,’ he confessed. ‘I admire her enormously.’

  ‘Well, it is high time you settled down and the Mortimers are a respected and high-born family. As a British diplomat Sir George is highly thought of in government and aristocratic circles. Indeed, we have been friends for many years. Your parents are dead, so as your aunt I feel an obligation to take an interest in what you do and I have to say that your lifestyle concerns me deeply. It has been brought to my notice that you spend a good deal of your time gambling and that you are in debt. Just how bad are things?’

  Linnet looked at Toby, at his flushed face and the way he shifted with embarrassment beside her. With a sinking heart, realising the situation called for the truth, raising her head she looked straight at her aunt. It was a difficult moment for Linnet. She wanted to maintain an air of cool disdain, to face her aunt in calm defiance, but her mauled pride and an aching distrust of the future assailed her senses.

  ‘I’m afraid they could not be worse, Aunt Lydia.’

  Lady Milton’s expression didn’t alter, but her eyes hardened. ‘Worse? Kindly explain yourself, Toby. Am I to understand that you persist in continuing to throw money away at cards?’

  ‘We no longer have any money to throw away, Aunt Lydia,’ Linnet explained quietly, never having felt so degraded in her life.

  The blood drained from Lady Milton’s face. She was furious. It was a predicable reaction.

  Toby stared at her, silent and helpless, waiting for her to speak.

  She looked from Linnet to Toby for a long moment. ‘I see. By that I take it to mean that you are penniless? You foolish man. What a disappointment you have turned out to be. You had every opportunity to make something of yourself when your father died. Instead, you have thrown it all away for the amusements to be found in London. And the house? Is it mortgaged?’

  ‘No, Aunt Lydia,’ Toby mumbled.

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s something to be thankful for. However, Sir George would be horrified at the prospect that his daughter would marry anyone who would be unable to support her in the manner to which she is accustomed. You have no money and no prospects. Do you want Caroline Mortimer or don’t you?’

  ‘Yes—of course I do.’

  ‘Then you had better pull yourself together. He will not consider a match between you and his daughter as things stand. Indeed he would be horrified if he knew your present situation. You have to change from a profligate young man who cannot stop gambling into a sober adult. It is important to me that you further your advancement. We must salvage what we can. My bailiff will be leaving shortly. I will arrange for you to work with him, show you how to go on, and when he leaves you may have learned enough to take over. Your cousin William will help you all he can and help you with the business side of things so that eventually you can be what your father once was—a man of independent means. You will work hard and show me you have the ability to progress.’

  ‘But, Aunt Lydia, I know nothing of—’

  ‘Then you will learn,’ she uttered forcefully. ‘Now listen to me and listen carefully. You will not go near a gaming room. There will be no more gambling. You will behave. If you cannot conduct yourself like a gentleman, then I will have to rethink the situation. Is that clear? I know nothing of your debts. You will bring me the statements of tradespeople who are owed and I will see that they are paid. When this is done I will settle a sum of money on you. How many gambling debts do you have?’

  ‘They—they are considerable.’

  ‘I expect they are. Find out. If you work hard, you will, in time, earn a comfortable living.’

  ‘But, Aunt Lydia,’ Toby said, sitting on the edge of the seat, ‘with no money to bring to the marriage, Sir George will not allow a marriage between Caroline and me.’

  ‘I will see that you have enough to satisfy Sir George. It is a risk I shall have to take to stop our honourable name being dragged down into the mire. Besides, Caroline is the youngest of his five daughters and I know he is eager to get her off his hands. You will be thankful that I am offering you a way out of the mire you have got yourself into.’

  Linnet was overwhelmed with gratitude. She was unable to believe that the one person she had believed would not help them had astounded her by offering them a way out of their predicament. It forced her to see Toby and herself and their situation clearly and she was ashamed of what she saw.

  ‘Aunt Lydia, I—I don’t know what to say... It is indeed generous of you. We never expected... Toby?’

  Lady Milton looked at them coldly. ‘I am not doing this for you. It is for the family. The Mortimers are to go to the Continent for several weeks. You will spend the time putting your house in order. Do you understand me, Toby? If you fail, then I shall wash my hands of you.’ Her eyes shifted to Linnet. ‘And you, Linnet. Last night I saw you return to the house with Lord Blakely. It was not appropriate for you to be alone with him in the gardens for so long—and apparently there were witnesses who saw you embracing.’

  She went on to deliver a blistering tirade, denouncing Linnet’s disgraceful behaviour. Pale faced, Linnet endured her aunt’s chastisement without offering a word in her defence, knowing that to do so would only incite her to further anger.

  ‘The absence of the two of you was commented on—your return in a state of undress and your general lack of modesty and decorum when you allowed him the liberty of kissing your hand was scandalous.’

  Linnet stared at her in disbelief. ‘I—I didn’t know I was being observed—I didn’t think...’

  ‘No, you did not, that is clear. Do you know what you have done? You’ve disgraced yourself. People are talking about you as if you were a—a woman of ill repute.’

  ‘But I am not. It began to rain. We sheltered in the rotunda...’ She fell silent when she saw the look of horror on her aunt’s face.

  ‘Are you telling me that the two of you were alone all that time?’

  ‘It was raining.’

  ‘That is beside the point. He was seen kissing you—touching you.’ Lady Milton saw the shadow of guilt in her niece’s eyes and her face hardened. ‘So—he did take advantage of you.’

  ‘No—no, please believe me when I say it was quite innocent. We did nothing wrong.’

  ‘You may not understand that what you did was wrong, but a man as experienced as Lord Blakely will have known that you do not disappear for a prolonged period of time in a darkened garden with a respectable young lady. He took advantage of your innocence and naivety. The guests could speak of little else for the rest of the evening. He has ruined your reputation and any chance you had of making a decent marriage.’

  ‘But nothing happened.’ Linnet was adamant. ‘The simple truth is that I fell into a rather large rose bush. That’s how my dress became torn.’ Remembering the kiss, she was horrified to think they had been seen. ‘I sincerely hope you haven’t spoken to Lord Blakely about this. I have no wish to cause him embarrassment.’

  ‘That is the least of my worries. I will speak to him. Last night he retired to his room when he came in from the garden so I was unable to approach him. Before this unfortunate incident I had already decided that you must be found a husband. You cannot continue living at Birch House when Toby is married. It is high time you were wed. If Lord Blakely won’t have you and you cannot acquire a husband yourself, then I will do it for you. And soon.’

  Linnet sat perfectly still, her hands clenched in her lap, her lovely face pale but composed as
she squared up to her aunt. Reflecting on the time she had spent with Lord Blakely in the garden, she marvelled at her gullibility and naivety. Secretly, all her life she had dreamt of experiencing the feelings Lord Blakely had woken in her with that first kiss. The desire and its result were a wonder to her and had completely overwhelmed her. For the first time in her life a man had made her feel like a real woman.

  But marriage? No, she would not be united with any man under such circumstances as these. She was a nobody. She had nothing. He was a peer of the realm—an earl, Louisa had told her. She would never be able to live up to his position.

  ‘I feel I must remind you of our conversation earlier, Aunt Lydia. What was it you advised? That I should not get ideas above my station.’

  Her aunt stiffened. ‘I have not forgotten, but that was before you went wandering off into the garden with him. You compromised yourself. You are absolutely ruined unless he marries you.’

  ‘He wouldn’t even consider it.’

  ‘We’ll see about that. If Lord Blakely thinks he can ruin my good name by seducing my niece and then go flitting off to wherever he is from, he is grievously mistaken.’

  ‘I will not be forced into this.’

  Aunt Lydia looked at her coldly. ‘Not forced, Linnet. Persuaded. You will see the sense of it in time. You must face the fact that your father left you in a fix with no dowry and without a penny to your name. There isn’t a man of note that will marry you without one. The lord knows what a task it will be for me to find you a decent husband if Blakely won’t have you.’ She sighed heavily, as if tired of her burden. ‘Besides, if I am to help your brother out of the mess he has made of things then you must play your part. Marriage will be the best thing for you—I suppose I shall have to provide your dowry to bring that about.’