A Wicked Earl she can't Resist: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Olivia Bennet

  “Thank you, My Lord.”

  They stood there silently, he still keeping hold of her hand, his grip light but strong. She could feel every inch of his fingers where they touched her skin. Her eyes were still glued to his and he seemed to be laboring under the same magnetic pull as she was.

  She took a deep breath, and her hand shook a little in his. He looked down at their joined fingers, before letting her hand go with a muttered apology. To her extreme shock she saw his face fill with color when he realized that they had indeed been scandalously close to inappropriate.

  Oh God…

  Emily took a step back, wondering what devilry had overcome her to behave in such a manner. Especially after what had just happened to her. For a moment, she wanted to turn and run, not stopping until she was back in the vicar’s house.

  The Earl seemed to read her mind because he took a step back as well. “Allow me to summon my housekeeper. She will take you around and show you everything you need. Once you are settled perhaps you can join us for supper and I will introduce you to the children.”

  Emily nodded jerkily. “Y-yes, of course.”

  The Earl tilted his head in acknowledgement before putting the desk between them again–much to her relief–and ringing a small bell that he had on the table. A footman appeared even before he was done ringing the bell.

  “Please ask Mrs. Cooke to come.”

  “Yes, My Lord.” The footman bowed and backed out of the room.

  The Earl pointed to a seat. “Please, you must be tired.”

  Emily did not protest. It had been a long day even though it was not yet half over.

  Soon, a rotund woman with rosy cheeks and hair to match strolled into the room. She seemed to be beaming. Emily got to her feet to face her. “Mrs. Cooke, this is the new governess, Miss Fletcher. Would you show her to her quarters please?”

  The housekeeper turned twinkling eyes on Emily and for the first time since she’d stepped into the house, Emily relaxed.

  Chapter 7

  Betsey Cooke looked the new girl up and down, assessingly. She seemed barely more than a child herself and she was clearly terrified. Mentally shaking her head, she smiled encouragingly even as she wondered how long Miss Fletcher could last if she was already afraid.

  “It is glad I am to have you. The children have been running me ragged for the past few days.”

  Miss Fletcher smiled back, her face gaining even more ethereal beauty as it lit up. “Is that so? Are they little terrors then?”

  Betsey sighed dramatically for effect, “Tis best you see for yourself. I shouldn’t like to spoil the surprise. Why, are you particular to little devils then?”

  The smile slid off Miss Fletcher’s face and her countenance darkened. “You could say so.” Her voice was soft and full of regret.

  Betsey watched her sympathetically, wondering if she would say more. But the young girl just bit her lip, looking sorrowful.

  “You miss them?” Betsey voiced her thoughts at last, as softly as she could so as not to spook the other woman. All it did though was to startle her out of her reverie. She pasted an artificial smile on her face as she turned to look into Betsey’s eyes. “Just a little homesick is all.”

  “Oh? And where do you hail from?”

  Miss Fletcher shook her head as if the question confused her. “Uh…oh Whitehaven. I’m from Whitehaven.”

  Betsey hummed, “And when did you come to London?” she opened the door to the kitchen, ushering Miss Fletcher in. The girl hesitated by the door but Betsey propelled her to the table, setting a steaming bowl of chicken soup and a hunk of bread in front of her. She crossed over to the table and poured some cider into a cup which she also placed in front of Miss Fletcher. The girl put her puny belongings down on the bench and tentatively picked up the spoon.

  “Eat,” Betsey encouraged with a smile.

  Miss Fletcher spooned some soup and sipped it slowly from the spoon.

  “Is it too hot?” Betsey asked. She kept a permanently steaming cauldron of soup in the fireplace because the children tended to be hungry at odd times.

  Miss Fletcher shook her head, “It’s fine. Thank you.” She took a big gulp and smiled nervously. Betsey could see that she was nervous and tried to think of something to put her at ease.

  “So, do you have any family in Whitehaven?”

  The girl’s face paled and Betsey realized that it was the wrong thing to say.

  “My Father.”

  The girl’s voice broke when she said father and Betsey’s heart broke for her. She was clearly very homesick.

  “Well…if you don’t mind, I shall be mothering you for the time being, all right. Now I’ll leave you to eat your food and then I shall show you to your quarters. You will be able to rest up before dinner.”

  Betsey was surprised to see her smile at that. “Are the children that bad?”

  “No no!” Betsey hastened to reassure her, “It’s just…” she hesitated, her face softening, “well, I can see you’ve had a trying time.”

  The girl’s bottom lip trembled as if she might burst into tears. Betsey did not want that. “And once you meet the children I doubt you’ll have time to sleep again.”

  Miss Fletcher’s face brightened, her eyes amused much to Betsey’s relief. She turned away, her mind churning with all the mystery that she saw in the girl’s eyes. Maybe once Miss Fletcher knew her better, she would feel comfortable in sharing her troubles. Betsey surely hoped so.

  Emily didn’t want to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she was back in that room with the half-dressed girls and the leering men. The man’s hand was reaching for the nub of her breast and there was nothing she could do but watch.

  Her chest would feel so tight that she was forced to sit up or risk suffocation. So she got out of bed and decided that she could perhaps clean her clothes and lay out the ones for supper. Mrs. Harrison had given her three gowns; a blue one, a white one, and a green one. She took off the one she was wearing that was made of yellow cotton overlaid with brown tulle. It was a lovely dress and Emily decided that she would clean it up and re-wear it instead of changing clothes.

  She wanted to make a good first impression.

  She took some water and a cloth, wiping off the dust that had accumulated at the helm and then steamed out the wrinkles. She laid the dress on her bed and then sat down at the table where a tiny looking glass had been placed for her use. As soon as she sat down, dressed in just her shift, she realized that she had no means to comb her hair.

  That was almost enough to have her bursting into tears again. A tentative knock on the door distracted her and she looked up, blinking away tears.

  “Yes?”

  Two small heads peered into the room as the door opened, their eyes bright with curiosity. “You’re the new governess?”

  “Your eyes are pretty.”

  “Are you crying?”

  “Don’t you like it here?”

  The questions came in rapid fire and Emily hardly knew how to respond or which head to talk to. She got to her feet. “Come in,” she waved them in and they both immediately fell over each other trying to get in the room. That was when she realized that one was a girl and the other was a boy.

  It took some time for them to untangle themselves and then they both got to their feet and came to stare up at her with identical aquamarine eyes shining with curiosity.

  “I’m Harry Kinsley, the Viscount of Essex.”

  “I’m Lady Anne Kinsley.”

  Emily smiled with amusement at the way that they spoke together. “I’m Miss Fletcher. I think you’re my new pupils if I’m not mistaken.”

  They both nodded. “You’re our governess,” Lady Anne said just in case she hadn’t understood yet.

  “I’m very pleased to meet you both. Although I think that your father meant to introduce us at dinner.”

  Lord Essex grimaced. “Dinner is so far. And he won’t let us ask you any questions.”

  Emily�
�s cocked an eyebrow. “Questions?”

  “Yes, like why can’t boys and girls go to the same schools?” Lady Anne wanted to know.

  “And how come we won’t be allowed to play together when we get older?” Lord Essex added.

  “Yes, why does Nancy tell us that? Is it true?” Lady Anne said.

  Emily let out a loud breath. “Well…you do have a lot of questions. Why don’t we take them one at a time?”

  The twins looked at each other, eyes wide with surprise and then looked back at Emily, “You’ll tell us?”

  Emily shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

  Both children screamed loudly, startling Emily quite badly. She urged them to hush and bade them sit on her bed. The twins obediently ran over to the bed and made themselves comfortable. Emily took the chair by the armoire and set it opposite the bed so that she could sit, facing the children.

  “Now,” she said, “One at a time. Ask me your questions.”

  A feeling of relief swept over her as she got caught up in answering the twins’ many awkward questions. It allowed her to forget her fear and trauma for a while and just focus on her new job. She suspected that her new charges would keep her very occupied, and was grateful for that knowledge. She would have no time to brood with these two.

  Duncan was very surprised when the new governess entered the dining hall flanked by his twins. Furthermore, they seemed to be very well acquainted going so far as to be holding her hands. He quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, only looking to see what Nancy’s reaction was.

  From the scowl on her face, she was not too pleased by this turn of events.

  He got to his feet. “Miss Fletcher…I see my twins located you.”

  “Yes they did.” Her smile was like the sun emerging from a cloud, lighting up a dull and rainy day. Duncan felt something in his breast lighten as she aimed it at him.

  Without meaning to, he smiled back. “That’s good. Please, have a seat.”

  The twins led her to a seat in the middle of the table so that they could flank her. Nancy sat on the other side of the table by herself, still frowning. The twins glared at her, their expressions very possessive of the new governess. Duncan almost laughed out loud.

  “Have you met my first-born daughter, Lady Nancy Kinsley?” he gestured toward her with a quirk of his eyebrow.

  “No I have not, although I have, er, heard quite a lot about her.” Miss Fletcher’s smile became impish and Duncan felt that laughter bubbling up again.

  “Lady Nancy? Are you not going to welcome the new governess?”

  His first born made a grumbling sound deep in her throat but she reluctantly smiled at the governess nevertheless. “Welcome, Miss Fletcher. Don’t make yourself too comfortable with the twins. They are little terrors.”

  Miss Fletcher’s smile widened. “I find them quite delightful.”

  The twins gave identical grins as they leaned closer to Miss Fletcher, clearly united against their sister.

  “I am very happy to be here and I hope we shall all get a chance to know each other well,” she continued, still smiling at Nancy.

  His daughter said nothing, just morosely dropped her eyes back to her bowl of soup and spooned some into her mouth. Duncan frowned at her, embarrassed at her rudeness.

  “Lady Nancy, is that any way to treat a guest?” he growled.

  “She’s not a guest. She’s our governess.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “And deserving of your respect.”

  She looked up at him, her posture adjusting as she saw that he was serious. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She turned to the governess, “I apologize Miss Fletcher.”

  The governess smiled kindly back. “I accept your apology Lady Nancy. Perhaps we can begin again, shall we? On a better note?”

  Nancy’s mouth twisted, but she tried to smile. “Of course. Let us do that.”

  “Excellent.”

  Duncan leaned forward. “Shall we eat?”

  “Yes!” the twins echoed in chorus.

  The first night that Emily spent in the Kinsley household was fraught with nightmares of burning buildings and men pulling at her clothes while women laughed. The only thing she could see was the dark maw of their open mouths and the shine of amused eyes. She jerked awake more than once but after the third time, decided not to try and sleep again.

  Instead, she wandered down to the schoolroom, a candle in hand, and tried to read through the work that the twins had previously covered. She discovered through their books that their learning had been erratic, no doubt due to the constant changes in governesses.

  While she did not have much experience as a governess, she did know what was pertinent for a future lord and lady to learn. She began to arrange their lessons in terms of arithmetic, reading, and writing.

  Through an uncle on her mother’s side, she knew some rudimentary Spanish and was fluent in French. Her father had made her learn it when she was younger due to the amount of business he did with Paris. She could not play an instrument, but if the Earl wanted his daughters to learn that surely, he would retain another teacher to do so.

  A footfall outside the door had her looking up to see the housekeeper peering into the room.

  “Can you not sleep?”

  She smiled, remembering how kind this woman had been to her earlier. So kind in fact that she had almost burst into tears. She had remembered being in the barn with Farmer John’s boys and it had almost been too much. She felt as if that girl in that barn was a total, too naïve, carefree, innocent stranger that had no idea what evils lurked in the world.

  Mrs. Cooke took a seat opposite her, dressed in her night gown with a large headscarf on her head. She looked the way that Emily imagined her mother might have looked had she lived.

  “I…have recently gone through a trying time. It keeps me up at night.”

  Mrs. Cooke reached out to cover her hand and squeezed. Then she got to her feet. “I will get you some hot chocolate. Sometimes it helps.”

  “Thank you.” Emily felt a wash of gratitude well up inside her at the housekeeper’s kindness, a lump obstructed her throat. In recent years, she was used to being the one who took care of her father. Nobody took care of her. This was almost too much to bear.

  “You’re welcome, my dear.” Mrs. Cooke hobbled out of the room and Emily put her schedule aside and closed her eyes, sighing deeply. All of this was very difficult, but she was made of sterner stuff than this.

  I can survive.

  Duncan found it difficult to sleep as he could not quite get the new governess out of his mind. He suspected that there was more to her than met the eye. In spite of Nancy’s hostility, he also felt optimistic about her staying power. The twins clearly adored her already. Not that he could blame them; she was very…compelling.

  It was not even her soft-looking chestnut hair or her beguiling amber eyes. It wasn’t the translucency of her pearl-drop skin or the delicacy of her hands. It was the kindness and gentleness that she exuded from deep inside. Her clear intelligence, the respect, and interest she showed in his children. Her seemingly endless patience with Nancy’s sniping.

  He knew that he had only known her for a very short time and it was just too early to make any judgments but…his soul was singing with joy for the first time in six years. Hope bloomed in his heart in a way that it had never done.

  He was excited to wake up in the morning, just to see her again. It was disconcerting. He should not be feeling like this about somebody he had just met. He heard footsteps on the stairs, headed toward the nursery and crept to his door, peering out.

  The object of his thoughts was making her slow creeping way up the stairs toward the schoolroom. For a moment, he thought about following her but then he remembered her fear when they were standing close to each other, in his study. Instead, he gestured to the footman standing at the end of the corridor.

  “Yes, My Lord?”

  “Fetch me Mrs. Cooke. Ask her to check on Miss Fletcher who has
gone up to the schoolroom.”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  He went back inside his room and closed the door, going to sit on his bed and wait. He did not think he would sleep again, unless Miss Fletcher did the same.

  Chapter 8

  “Good morning, Miss Fletcher. And how did you sleep?” the Earl gave her a concerned smile and she tentatively smiled back.