by Abigail Agar
The Key to the Governess's Heart
A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL
ABIGAIL AGAR
Copyright © 2020 by Abigail Agar
All Rights Reserved.
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Table of Contents
The Key to the Governess's Heart
Table of Contents
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The Key to the Governess's Heart
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 3
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
A Duke's Liberating Embrace
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
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The Key to the Governess's Heart
Introduction
Being totally unaware of what the future holds, Beatrice Cloud is delighted to be invited to her employer’s dinner party. Particularly since his daughter, and Beatrice’s dearest friend, is meant to be meeting her betrothed that fateful evening. Beatrice is more than excited for her friend, but her life is about to turn upside down when her eyes meet the most handsome Lord she’s ever seen. The only problem is that the man she felt connected to for the very first time is her best friend’s husband-to-be. Feeling ashamed and disgraced by a situation she never intended to be a part of, will she find the strength to fight her feelings?
Lord Peter Hawthorn, the Earl of Willoughby, is nervous but excited to meet the woman he is about to marry. As they start talking, he instantly finds himself attracted to the beautiful, kind, and interesting young Lady. But little did he know that the woman he is falling for is his future wife’s governess. They say true love knows no bounds, but will Peter dare to defy cruel society, even if that means he will break another heart? How far is he willing to go for a chance at true love?
Beatrice and Peter soon find themselves caught up in the denial of their affections, while complications of their classes and Lord Seton's adamant will make matters even worse. Will this match made in heaven survive against all odds? Or will commitment and society keep them apart forever?
Chapter 1
“All right, my darlings. It looks as though our time has come to an end. Your sister and I must be getting ready now,” Beatrice said to her charges, her face alight with excitement.
“No, please, Miss Cloud! We want to go with you or you cannot go at all,” Cecile complained, pushing out her significant pout.
“Yes, please, Miss Cloud. Do not leave us to be forced to go to bed and not enjoy ourselves. We are very nearly old enough,” Mary added.
“Ha! You consider eleven and eight old enough to attend a party?” Beatrice asked, amused.
“Please?” Mary begged, clearly aware that her efforts were hopeless.
“I am sorry, my little darlings, but you shall have your day. In fact, when you are older, you shall experience the joy of many parties, balls, and gatherings,” Beatrice.
“Even if I become a governess like you?” Cecile asked.
Beatrice’s smile faltered for only a moment. She knew better than to take the child’s curiosity as a personal insult. Still, there was no questioning the fortune of working for such a kind, loving family.
“Well, Cecile, you are never going to be a governess. You must remember that you are a grand lady who shall be married off to a handsome man one day. Possibly a duke. But, you are right. The majority of governesses are not so blessed as I. It is by the grace of your mother and father that I am treated with such dignity,” Beatrice explained.
Cecile seemed to be trying to understand and Mary, the elder of the two, rested a hand upon her sister’s shoulder.
“Come on, let’s go to our room. She will never let us have any fun,” Mary grumbled.
Beatrice held back her laughter until the girls were with their nurse, but from there she quickly made her way to Isla’s room, knocking on the door in quiet but rapid movements.
“Come in!” Isla called.
Beatrice entered and hurried to her friend’s side.
“My goodness, Lady Seton, you are quite the vision!” Beatrice exclaimed.
“And you, dear Beatrice, are late. Did my sisters keep you too long?” Isla asked.
“Yes, but I expected as much. I apologise for my tardiness. You look beautiful, though. For myself, I am not sure if I ought to wear the grey or the peach,” Beatrice said.
“You must wear the peach. Remember, you are not a governess tonight. Go, quickly, and get your gown. Margaret should be here any moment to help me dress and I’m sure that she would be happy to help you as well,” Isla said.
Beatrice did as she was told and, after helping Isla, the maid also assisted with helping Beatrice.
“Thank you, Margaret,” she said, feeling somewhat guilty that the other staff of the house were not afforded the same opportunities as she was.
The home of Lord Seton, Earl of Dutton, was a wonderful place to work. Beatrice had heard so many dreadful stories of grand estates with awful lords and ladies. Instead, she had found a slightly elevated status as a governess and, moreover, she had found a dear friend in the eldest daughter, Isla Seton.
For three years, Beatrice had been a governess to the youngest two while she and Isla had grown close. Lord and Lady Seton had hardly minded, thinking it a miracle that their reserved daughter had found a kindred spirit.
“Are you ready for the grand evening?” Beatrice asked, hinting, as she ran a brush through her thick, brown hair.
“Oh, I don’t know. How can one prepare themselves for something like this, Beatrice? I am meant to be meeting my future husband. I know nothing at all about the Earl of Willoughby. What if we do not like one another?” Isla asked.
“I am certain that you shall. Your father said that he is a very good man, did he not?” Beatrice asked.
“Yes, but what else is my father going to say? He could hardly tell me that the earl is a dreadful prig of a man,” Isla said.
B
eatrice laughed, but she could not fault Isla for the concern.
“I hope that you find him handsome at the very least,” Beatrice said, thinking that it would be a small mercy in the face of the usual arrogance of these men.
“Yes, I hope so. From what I have heard, he has blonde hair and blue eyes. My father said that he is quite tall. I know nothing else,” Isla said.
“Well, that is a fair enough description. And, of course, who does not like a tall gentleman?” Beatrice asked.
“Yes, I suppose,” Isla replied, her voice nearly shaking with anxiety.
“Oh, dear Isla, don’t be so worried. Everything is going to be wonderful. You and the earl are going to be such a lovely match. I have no doubt of it,” Beatrice said.
“Do you really think so?” her friend asked.
“I am sure of it,” Beatrice replied.
“It is difficult to think of meeting the man that I am to spend my life with. Knowing so little about him frightens me, but I trust that my mother and father have made the right choice,” Isla said.
“I am sure that they have. And remember, I shall be there beside you the whole evening,” Beatrice said.
“That you shall. And I could not be more grateful for it,” Isla told her.
“Well, it is I who should be grateful. I am most fortunate for being afforded the opportunity to attend a party such as this. You know as well as I do that it is completely unprecedented that someone in my station should be allowed to accompany you,” Beatrice acknowledged.
“My father likes you and I begged him,” Isla said with a shrug, as though it was nothing at all.
But for Beatrice, it was remarkable. Dressing in lavish clothing, holding her head up high and entertaining guests from all manner of societal rank, it was sure to be a grand evening.
Still, despite the fact that Beatrice was able to attend the gathering, she recognised that it hardly meant having similar opportunities for matchmaking and friendship as Isla. She would never find some grand and noble earl for a husband.
Not that she cared for a title, but Beatrice wished that she could find a lovely man with whom she could spend her life. Someone with a kind heart, someone who loved others, and who valued human connection.
When she considered the men that she had met in her life, not one was a possible match. As difficult as that was to accept she had learned to look past it and have hope that, one day, she might meet a man who would content her.
“All right, now you must put these in your hair,” Isla said, holding out little pins with pearls at the tips.
“Isla, they are lovely! Should you not be the one to wear them?” Beatrice asked.
“No, I am more than happy to see them on you. I’m certain that you will do them justice,” Isla said, pulling one of her own stray brown hairs from a pin.
Beatrice took them in her hands, admiring the delicate sheen of the pearls.
“Here we are,” Isla said, straightening Beatrice’s head and tugging on little sections of hair.
One by one, she took the pins from Beatrice so that she could gently place them in her hair. By the end, Beatrice was astounded by how lovely they looked.
“Thank you so much. I feel like royalty,” Beatrice said with a giggle.
“You certainly look the part. Anyway, we must finish getting ready so that we can go down and prepare to entertain the early guests,” Isla said.
“Yes, of course. Do you think they will notice that I am just a lowly governess?” she asked, suddenly anxious to be among so many noblemen and women.
“Hardly. And even if my father tells them, no one is going to give it a second thought. You are our governess and you are my friend. Whatever assumptions they make beyond that, it matters not a jot to me,” Isla said.
Although Beatrice appreciated the sentiment, she could not imagine that it would be so easy. Society had stricter rules than that, a fact that she couldn’t deny. Now, as Beatrice tried to consider her other options, she had begun to realise that she didn’t have the same choices in life as her friend.
It was something she simply had to accept.
“Anyway, are you ready?” Isla asked.
Beatrice nodded, eager and ready for whatever the evening might bring.
“Excellent. In that case, we ought to go downstairs. The guests shall be arriving at any moment and I don’t want to miss my handsome new suitor,” Isla said, laughing nervously.
Beatrice followed her, a lump in her throat. Certainly, she had no reason to be as anxious as Isla. After all, it was not as though she was on her way to meet the man that she would marry.
Nevertheless, she was on her way to entertain an evening with those who were considered her superiors. She desperately hoped that she might fit in, that she would manage to carry on a conversation well, that she would—for just one night—be someone other than a governess.
By the time they reached the hall where the other guests were beginning to gather, Beatrice was feeling braver. Despite having nothing to motivate her and nothing to prevent her anxieties, she mustered her strength of will and decided that she would not be beaten by the fears that threatened to consume her.
“Now, you must enjoy yourself. More than likely I shall be overwhelmed and come to find you, but I know that my father will want me speaking with guests for the majority of the night. There are supposed to be nearly eighty men and women coming, can you believe it?” Isla asked.
Hearing that, Beatrice was overcome once more by nerves. If it had been a ball, eighty people would hardly mean anything. But a gathering like this one? There would be no dancing, no firm distractions.
It was an evening with little finger foods, plenty of wine and brandy, and the great art-form of conversation.
Isla was the only noblewoman with whom Beatrice was accustomed to engaging in conversation of any depth.
Being an intelligent, learned woman, Beatrice would not be concerned if conversations strayed to the lives of master artists—only that she might have to confess to never having seen their work. She could talk about composers—but she had never been to a concert. She could speak eloquently on politics—but she had no family connections.
If any of these little details were brought to light, she felt that she would be exposed. Even if there was no intention of hiding her identity as a governess, Beatrice didn’t mind if people remained unaware of the fact.
However, the time came when the first guests were announced. Three couples had arrived at once, and four more immediately followed. Soon, it felt like dozens of gowns were surrounding Beatrice and she realised that this was truly going to be a night to remember.
“Be friendly, be polite, and most importantly, be at ease,” Isla said.
“Were you not the one feeling so anxious just moments ago?” Beatrice asked.
“I am about to meet my future husband; of course I am anxious,” Isla said, searching the room with her gaze.
Beatrice watched as her friend’s eyes landed upon a tall, blonde fellow. He was certainly handsome. Lean and youthful, he appeared to be searching the room as well.
“Oh, goodness,” Isla said, excitement playing across her lips.
“I believe you ought to go to him, don’t you think?” Beatrice asked.
“Yes, I think I must. He is quite handsome, don’t you think?” Isla asked.
“Very much so. Now it is time that you learn whether or not his personality matches his appearance,” Beatrice said.
With that, Isla took a deep breath and stepped away as Beatrice leaned against the wall, suddenly aware of how alone she was.
Chapter 2
Lord Peter Hawthorn, Earl of Willoughby, and his dear friend Andrew Beckridge, the Baron of Ryle, had arrived at a good time. There were certainly a number of people around, but it was not overly crowded and he wasn’t worried about being unable to find Lord Seton or his daughter.
