The Key to the Governess's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

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by Abigail Agar


  Everything that he did was precious to her.

  And now, she did not know if she would survive long enough to tell him.

  Chapter 35

  Peter was still in a panic. They had been searching for Miss Cloud for more than two hours.

  All the concerns that he had previously held were nothing compared to the sheer frenzy that he was in now.

  The three of them had looked through nearly every room in the estate. He had spoken with his entire staff, none of whom had seen Miss Cloud nearby. He had looked all around the grounds, including the gardens and the maze that he had there.

  Finally, Lady Seton returned to the main hall and checked once more, just as she had done before.

  But, alas, there was still no sign of her.

  Miss Cloud had vanished.

  “I cannot think what else we should do. We have looked everywhere. Do we call the constable?” Andrew asked, quite concerned as well.

  “What is the constable going to do? If nothing else, he will simply expect that she ran off with a gentleman from the evening," Lady Seton said.

  “Surely, they would not accuse her of such a thing,” Andrew said.

  Peter shook his head. The idea made him sad.

  “Of course they would,” he said. “A woman of her station? They would accuse her of anything, and everyone would believe it. She is not given the respect that she deserves.”

  “Lord Hawthorn is right,” Lady Seton said. “Beatrice is constantly looked to for accepting the fault. It is not anything that she has done to deserve such an assumption, but for women in her position, it is their lot in life. Just think. If you have a guest to your home and something valuable goes missing, who do you accuse? Do you accuse the noblewoman who was eyeing your silver? Or do you blame the maid?”

  Andrew scoffed in anger.

  “What a horrible society it must be to force women like Miss Cloud into such a life,” Andrew said.

  "That is how it has been done for all these years,” Peter said.

  “Regardless of how unfair it is, what does it mean for us? Where does our search take us next?” Lady Seton asked.

  “That is what we must decide. Shall we go out and search on our own?” Andrew offered.

  “I can think of nothing more to try,” Peter said.

  “I wonder if my father has seen her,” Lady Seton said.

  “Of course, we should ask him. He is the only other person here tonight who knows exactly who she is. If he had seen her, he may know where she went,” Peter said.

  Finally, they had a wave of hope.

  “Shall we return to the hall and find your father, then?” Andrew asked Lady Seton.

  She nodded, urgently, and the three of them charged forward, making their way to the hall as quickly as they could to find Lord Seton.

  He was standing near the back corner, surrounded by other men of his station. Wealthy, titled men, the sort who would be quick to disregard them.

  “Father, we must speak with you at once,” Lady Seton said, disrupting the meeting.

  The men raised their brows and cleared their throats uncomfortably, unaccustomed to such a great man being demanded of by his daughter.

  “Please, Lord Seton,” Peter added, hoping that he would be listened to if Lady Seton would not.

  “Well, gentlemen, it appears that I am quite popular this evening,” Lord Seton said, laughing in a gruff manner and giving his daughter a look of warning.

  He parted from the other men and they created their own small huddle, Lord Seton focused around Lord Seton.

  Andrew stayed fairly quiet, clearly not wanting this to be his first serious interaction with Lord Seton.

  “Lord Seton, your governess, Miss Cloud, she has vanished,” Peter said, his breath catching.

  Lord Seton regarded them all, coolly.

  “Yes. She has,” he replied.

  “Do you know anything about it? Have you not seen her?” Peter asked.

  “I saw her earlier in the evening. I saw her and I told her that she had to leave,” he replied, calmly and slowly.

  Peter’s jaw slackened. He felt utterly ridiculous. He had spent two hours, along with Lady Seton and Andrew, searching for Miss Cloud. But, ultimately, she had been sent away by none other than her own employer.

  “Father, why did you do this? Why would you send her away?” Lady Seton asked.

  “Because it was my decision to make. She is my employee, is she not? I decide whether she stays or goes,” he said.

  “Did she need to return to the home for the sake of your other daughters? Was there some urgent matter that concerned her?” Peter asked.

  “No. It was nothing like that. I told her to go because I thought it for the best,” he said.

  Peter was ready to ask further questions, but it was Lady Isla who made the demands.

  “But why, Father?” she asked, loudly enough that they all looked around to make sure that none of the other guests were looking at them.

  “Perhaps we ought to go somewhere more private,” Peter suggested.

  “There is no need for that. This conversation has ended,” Lord Seton said.

  “No, My Lord. It has not. You are in my home, a guest. But I do have the authority to change that. You will come with us to a quiet place where we may discuss the matter at hand,” Peter said, turning and leading them forward.

  He was surprised that Lord Seton acquiesced, but they went to a small room just beyond the study, a place where they would not be disturbed by anyone and they would be able to discuss matters more fully. Even, Peter hoped, the matter of his marriage to Lady Seton.

  Once they were inside, standing and eyeing one another, with suspicion geared toward Lord Seton, Lady Seton asked him again.

  “Why did you send her away, Father?” she asked.

  “Because she had no business dancing and flirting with your betrothed. She was no friend to you, Isla. She would have betrayed you in an instant for the sake of this man and you have the audacity to believe that she is anything less than a common woman who would use her friendship with you to try and gain position?” he asked.

  “Father, Beatrice and Lord Hawthorn are in love. You had no reason to try and separate them. I was trying to bring them together. Beatrice had not betrayed me. I was urging her to share her feelings with Lord Hawthorn,” Lady Seton said.

  Lord Seton shook his head as though she were a foolish little girl.

  “You do not need to pretend as much just for the sake of saving face. Admit that she tricked you,” he said.

  “You know that I care for Lord Beckridge, Father. You heard me speaking with Beatrice about it. I do not want to marry Lord Hawthorn and you know that as well. So, what is the problem? Why can we not be happy? Why do you want me to marry him so badly?” she asked.

  “Because it is what our family deserves. You want to marry a baron when you can have a duke? It had all been arranged and it would be humiliating if it changes now,” Lord Seton said.

  “But Lord Hawthorn and I do not love one another. We shall not marry, Father. No matter what,” she told him. “You must accept it. There is nothing else to say, Father.”

  Lord Seton looked at his daughter with confusion and anger. Peter could see that there was not going to be any peace between them for the time being. They were cold to one another.

  It also appeared as though Lord Seton would not relent to anything further. He had not a shred of guilt for having sent Miss Cloud away. He was not the man that Peter had always assumed him to be. No; instead, he was a harsh, angry, bitter man. He was trying to use his daughter to climb the social ladder.

  He wanted her to marry Peter for the sake of fortune and title, not simply because he was a friend to Peter’s father.

  “Lord Seton—” Peter began.

  But Lord Seton rounded on him, his face full of fury anew.

  “And you! You betrayed my daughter. You were unfaithful to her before the marriage even took place. What a poor, pitiful chara
cter you have. What shameful behaviour I have seen from you,” he shouted.

  “Lord Seton, I have done nothing immoral. I did not allow my feelings for Miss Cloud to overwhelm me and the most that has ever taken place between your employee and myself was this evening’s dance. No, I do not love your daughter, but I do respect her. We have formed a friendship, she and I. I do believe that is all that we need,” Peter said.

  “This is a mutiny against me? I had plans for us all and you have ruined them,” he hissed.

  “I cannot betray my heart, not can your daughter betray hers,” Peter said. “It would be better to let us part.”

  Lord Seton turned to Andrew, as if expecting him to make some passionate plea.

  Instead, Andrew simply straightened his back and looked Lord Seton in the eye, unafraid.

  “My Lord, I love your daughter. I will take care of her. I will provide for her. I believe that is enough,” Andrew said.

  Peter was proud of him.

  Lord Seton’s shoulders relaxed somewhat. He looked between the three who stood before him. Peter could see that there was still worry and confusion and anger. But he was not in the rage that he had previously been in.

  Something in him was finally beginning to break.

  “I am not the sort of man who is accustomed to acquiescing to such things. I believe that you are all being quite foolish in your attempts to allure me to romance,” he said.

  There was a pause and Peter waited with bated breath.

  “However, it would seem that I have little choice in the matter. I can see that, Lord Hawthorn, you will not marry my daughter. If you end this engagement, it will affect her reputation. Unless…” he trailed off.

  “Yes, Father?” Lady Seton asked, her own breath ragged in anticipation.

  “I can see that Lord Hawthorn cares for his friend, my dear. If he agrees to publicly support the union, if he agrees to share that he, too, had feelings for another, I am inclined to allow this matter to be put to rest,” Lord Seton said.

  “Oh, Father!” Lady Seton exclaimed, throwing her arms around her father and sobbing her gratitude into the crook of his neck.

  “That is enough, my girl. I am not pleased with this outcome. I am merely conceding because I can see that it is the best way in which your reputation shall be preserved. And, Lord Hawthorn, although you will hardly be able to marry Miss Cloud, I do expect that you will confess your feelings for another woman,” Lord Seton said.

  “Yes indeed, My Lord. But why is it that you say I cannot marry Miss Cloud?” Peter asked, confused.

  Lord Seton raised an eyebrow as if it were the silliest question he had ever heard.

  “Are you quite serious, Lord Hawthorn?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Peter replied.

  “She is a governess. Surely, you do not believe that you would ever be allowed to marry someone in her position,” he said.

  Peter was still for a moment, taking in steady, determined breaths. He was well aware of the fact that this was a complicated matter. But he had no desire to let it slide by as an assumption. Not when he was unwilling to let social status prevent him from the love that he so desired.

  “Lord Seton, I recognise that it would be…unusual for a man in my position to marry someone from Miss Cloud’s rank in Britain. But, like you, I am not inclined to concede to the whims of others. I wish to marry her and I shall see that it happens,” Peter said, perhaps making a bolder statement than he would be allowed to follow through on.

  “Well, if that is not the most foolish thing I have ever heard. Nevertheless, I admire a stubborn determination and that is precisely what I see in you just now, Lord Hawthorn. With that in mind, I wish you luck in your endeavor to make Miss Cloud your bride,” he said.

  “Thank you, Lord Seton. I look forward to doing just that,” Peter said.

  “But, first, we must find her,” Lady Seton said, her eyes growing frantic all over again.

  Peter swallowed his nerves and nodded.

  “Indeed, we must. Lord Seton, thank you for your kindness and willingness to acquiesce. However, we must high and away, in search of the woman I wish to marry,” Peter said.

  “Very well, very well. Off you go,” he said.

  “Father, will you not help us?” Lady Seton asked.

  Lord Seton grimaced and Peter could see that he was still very much the same man who had begrudged them.

  “I suppose. I shall check the gardens,” he said.

  “We have already looked there, Father. We have searched everywhere on the grounds,” Lady Seton said.

  “What am I meant to do then? Where do you expect me to wander?” he asked.

  Peter sighed, but he realised he had a reasonable idea.

  “Lord Seton, would you be willing to go out by coach? You may shout for her as the coach takes you back to your estate,” he said.

  “That sounds like a decent enough idea. It means that I shall miss the rest of the ball, but it is not as challenging as going on foot,” he said.

  “Thank you, Lord Seton. Please return at a slow pace, calling out for her. And, should you find her back at the estate, send word to us,” Peter said.

  Once it was all agreed, Lord Seton departed and Peter, Andrew, and Lady Seton set out on foot, hoping to find Miss Cloud.

  Chapter 36

  Beatrice shivered, her lips dry from the cold and from the incredible thirst that had overtaken her in such a short time.

  Was it possible that fear and anxiety could make her so thirsty? She had begun to wonder.

  Although Beatrice had been exhausted, she had not been able to sleep. Her heart pounded the whole night, in addition to the chill threatened to prevent her from getting even the least bit of rest.

  When she pried open her eyes again, giving up that there was any hope for sleep, she saw that the indigo of dawn was creeping into the black of the night sky. She was going to be able to get up and walk again soon, she would be able to see if there were any enemies nearby like the ones she had overheard the night before.

  But her stiff bones would not allow her to do so with any ease. Instead, she remained still for a while, allowing her body to come to terms with the fact that she expected it to move.

  Beatrice wondered how much longer she could withstand her fear and the chill. The two had been constant companions since she had found herself lost in the woods.

  But day was coming. Soon enough, she would be able to find her way to the main road. She would have enough light to guide her. And she would have enough of her wits about her to remain aware of any impending threats.

  She held on to knees, pulling them as close as she was able given the volume of the gown that she wore. It was not going to be easy, she knew. Trying to get through a few more hours of hopeless fear was painful.

  “Beatrice!” came a shout from afar.

 

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