Governess in Disguise: Historical Regency Romance

by Lisa Campell

  “Do you think that’s going to happen?”

  Thomas sighed. “I don’t know.”

  Probably not. And then Christian Hill would be back where he started. Drunk and broke. Only this time he wouldn’t have his brother to bail him out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Andrews still wasn’t home. That was something; it meant Emilia could do a little snooping. Anna was curled up in the nursery and the servants were going about their business. From what Emilia had heard when she was doing her snooping, nobody went into the study unless Andrews was there. Mrs Gallagher was the one who cleaned the study, but Andrews had to be present. That made Emilia suspicious. Was he nervous about the staff taking something? Or was he trying to hide something?

  It had to be the second one. Surely, Andrews was nervous about the servants finding something that could prove his guilt. Whatever he was hiding, it was in his study. And Emilia had to figure out when she could get inside.

  The library was across the hall from the little side passage leading to Andrews’ study. Emilia hovered just inside the library door, keeping out sight as the servants walked back and forth on their various tasks for the day, and waited until the coast was clear. She didn’t want to try and explain to Mrs. Gallagher why she wanted to go into her employer’s private room; the woman would think she was mad and have her thrown out.

  So would everyone else. Nice people they were, but sorely misguided. Emilia had to admire their loyalty for their master. None of them believed Andrews could be so callous as to murder someone. They clearly didn’t know him as well as they thought.

  Emilia was going to prove all of them wrong. No one like Andrews deserved that kind of loyalty.

  Such a shame. He is very nice to look at.

  Enough. Not the time!

  When Emilia deemed it quiet and the hallway deserted, she slipped out of the library and across into the side passage. Stepping as carefully as possible so she didn’t make much noise, Emilia hurried to the door. If she was quick...

  Grasping the handle, Emilia tried to turn the handle. It turned, but there was no click, and the door didn’t open. Emilia pushed a little, but the door still didn’t move. She nudged her shoulder against the hardened wood. Nothing.

  The door was locked. Now her suspicions really were up. Who would lock their study like this unless they had something to hide?

  “What are you doing, Mrs. Perry?”

  Emilia gasped and spun around. Andrews was standing behind her, arms folded as he watched her with a scowl. How had he managed to creep up on her? Emilia’s heart was racing. God, he must have rubber soles on his shoes. She pressed a hand to her chest, wishing her heart would slow down.

  “Mr. Andrews! You startled me! I…” She licked her lips. “I didn’t realize you were home.”

  “I’ve just got back.” Andrews watched her with narrowed eyes. “Why are you trying to get into my study?”

  Oops. Emilia had thought of an excuse if a servant caught her, but not the master of the house. She had to play her cards carefully. She swallowed and straightened up, hoping that her flushed cheeks wouldn’t give her away.

  “Anna said she had left something in there yesterday when she was with you and she wanted it. I... I thought the door was stuck.”

  “Well, it’s not stuck. I lock it whenever I leave the room.”

  Emilia almost snorted. As if that wasn’t suspicious already. Composure, Emilia. Composure.

  “Why would you lock the door?”

  Andrews was still watching her with a scowl. He stepped towards her, and Emilia couldn’t stop herself from backing away, bumping into the door.

  “I lock the door because I’ve had people trying to break into my house to get whatever they can. Mostly hoping they can find something that says they have a debt and destroy it. A few of them have tried to steal from me as well.”

  “Steal? Why would they do that?”

  “Because they’re spoiled, and they think they can get away with anything.” Andrews stepped towards her again, reaching out and pressing his hands on either side of her head. “They’re desperate to find something to sell so they can keep gambling. It’s a price to pay for doing my job.”

  He was far too close to her now. Emilia’s heart was racing. She couldn’t move away; even though he didn’t touch her, Andrews had her pinned against the door. And he felt far too close for comfort. Emilia’s licked her lips, biting back a whimper as Andrew’s eyes drifted to her mouth.

  “Gambling isn’t a good thing,” she whispered.

  Andrews’ eyebrow twitched.

  “When it’s regulated, it can be good. It’s an outlet for people. But more often than not, those who use that outlet are those who have no business gambling in the first place. Keeping everyone in check is like I’m a teacher with a load of children at times.”

  “Then why do it at all?”

  “Someone has to do it. And I like to think I’m keeping things in relative order.”

  It was getting harder to breathe with Andrews so close. Emilia wished she hadn’t done her corset up so tightly that morning; it wasn’t helping. This close to her, Emilia could feel Andrews’ body heat. It was so tempting just to reach out and touch him, see if he was as warm and solid as he looked.

  What’s the matter with you? Get a hold of yourself!

  Emilia swallowed. “It can hardly be orderly if people are dying,” she whispered.

  Andrews’ eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. Emilia saw the flash of annoyance in his eyes but then it was gone. Replaced by something that had Emilia shivering. Dear God, his eyes were so dark they were almost black. And the heat coming from them...it was intense. Emilia could feel heat tickling at her belly, coiling into a knot as her chest tightened. She needed to get away from him before she collapsed.

  But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t bring herself to put distance between her and the enigmatic man practically pinning her to the door.

  “Jonathan Hill was the only death from Drake’s.” Andrews’ voice was low, almost a growl that tickled the hair on Emilia’s arms. “And that was not my fault. Unless you want to believe in lies.”

  “Are they lies?”

  Andrews lowered his head. Emilia had to tilt her head back to see him more clearly, and her mouth went dry at the look in his eyes. She knew desire when she saw it, and that had her freezing. Andrews desired her? Oh, dear God. She should get away as quickly as possible.

  But she couldn’t. Emilia just couldn’t move.

  I don’t want to move away.

  “If I’m dangerous and I’m capable of killing someone,” Andrews whispered, “why haven’t you moved away?”

  “I... I’m not afraid of you.”

  Something in his eyes flared. His breath tickled her lips, his mouth inches from hers. It wouldn’t take much to cover the distance and kiss him. But Emilia pushed that thought away. She was not going to entertain the idea.

  Even if she was eager to find out if those lips were as soft as they looked.

  “Are you not?” Andrews’ eyes drifted to her mouth and then back up to meet her gaze. “If you were sure I killed someone, you should be afraid of me, Emilia. I’d have you at my mercy and nobody could help you.”

  There was a different connotation to his voice. Something a little more...intimate.

  Oh, lord. She needed to get out of there. But Emilia couldn’t move.

  “I…” She bit her lip. “I can scream.”

  “I know you can.” Andrews reached up and brushed a hand over her hair, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But unlike some men, I’m not disrespectful to women. And I’m not going to change that now, even if women try to get into my study without my permission.”

  When he touched her, Emilia had to bite back a whimper. It felt so good to be touched in such a way. Even by this man. He was gentle about it, just as he had been when bringing her back from falling off her horse. Every time he did touch her, Andrews cradled her with such delicacy tha
t it was like a different man completely.

  It could almost have her believing that he wasn’t capable of the worst crime imaginable. Almost.

  Then Andrews drew away so suddenly that Emilia swayed as that cold air hit her in the face. He stepped away and adjusted his coat as he cleared his throat.

  “I suggest you go and find my daughter,” he said sharply. “I’m sure you shouldn’t leave her alone for so long, not when she’s known to get up to mischief.”

  It took Emilia a moment to realize what he was talking about. Right. Anna was upstairs without a governess. And she needed to go and do her job. She pushed off the door, thankful that her legs didn’t give way under her.

  “Oh, right. Of course.”

  She had failed to get into the study this time around. Emilia had been caught. She was going to have to tread carefully now if she wanted to find something to prove Andrews had murdered her father. He was going to be watching her now.

  She should have been faster on her feet.

  Dropping a quick curtsy to him, Emilia stepped around her employer and hurried towards the main hall, only for Andrews’ voice to stop her.

  “Mrs. Perry.”

  Emilia turned. Andrews was watching her with a dark scowl, his eyes still heated as he looked her over.

  “Don’t try and get into my study again when I’m not around. That’s not for anyone except me. I hope you understand that.”

  “Yes, Mr. Andrews.”

  Emilia turned and hurried away before she said anything further. She knew she had gotten off lightly. But one thing had been made clear to her; Thomas Andrews was very protective about whatever he had in the study. And it wasn’t just paperwork and debts he was wanting to keep safe from prying eyes. There was something else in there.

  She was just going to have to bide her time before she tried again. Preferably when she knew Andrews wasn’t in the house.

  This was going to take a while.

  Two weeks. Emilia was frustrated. Two weeks in Thomas Andrews’ employ and she still hadn’t been able to get into his study. When he was home, he was mostly in there, and he locked the door every time he left. Emilia had seen him pocket the key, so she knew where the key was, but she knew it never left his person. Andrews was very careful about it.

  She could make a copy of the key, but that meant getting the key off him in the first place, and that was not going to be easy. Emilia wasn’t about to sneak into his bedchamber to find it; she would most certainly get caught. And she had never tried to open a window from the outside, so that was out of the question.

  So, Emilia was stuck. But it was in that room, she knew it. She had to get in there somehow. Maybe she could ask Andrews for a private conversation and then pretend to collapse and need a glass of water. Would that work?

  Probably not. Andrews was far smarter than that. He would spot what she was up to.

  Emilia was getting impatient. She needed to show to the constable that Andrews was the killer she knew he was. But the longer she was in his home, the more she was beginning to doubt herself. If he was guilty, then surely, he would have slipped up at some point. Or he was that arrogant in that he thought he wouldn’t get caught or held accountable.

  That seemed highly doubtful, at this point. Emilia had seen how Andrews was with everyone, from his mother to the boot boy, and he treated everyone the same. It was clear he adored his daughter, and Andrews cared about his mother. The servants appeared to admire and respect him. He was firm but fair and he wasn’t one to turn away if something was wrong. There had been a couple of squabbles with some of the younger maids over one of the footmen, something that had Emilia both giggling and rolling her eyes, and Andrews had dealt with it with barely any fuss. Nobody argued with him, and Andrews barely had to raise his voice. He was an authoritarian without being rude and abrasive about it. Emilia had never seen that before, not even with her own family. It was like Andrews had a spell over everyone in the house.

  It had to be some kind of spell and Emilia was slowly slipping under it as well. She had to stop that. Andrews may have fooled everyone into thinking he was a good man, a good person, but he wasn’t. Emilia knew that he wasn’t. If he was, her father would still be alive.

  If he was ugly, then this would be a lot easier.

  That was more than likely the problem. Thomas Andrews was a very attractive man. Devastatingly handsome, Charlotte would call it. His mere presence had Emilia’s skin prickling as if he was really touching her. And that voice of his...Emilia could listen to him all day and not get bored.

  That was the problem. She shouldn’t be finding any of this attractive. Emilia had to get focused and find what she came looking for. Somehow, she had managed to maintain her cover, and she was able to keep herself from confiding in some of the staff. Mrs. Gallagher and Mrs. Adams, especially, had Emilia wanting to lower her guard a little, but she dare not. If one of them found out who she was and why she was really here, they would turn her over to Andrews. He wouldn’t take too kindly to that. Emilia wanted to have evidence against him before she confronted him about what he had done.

  But then she would think about that moment outside Andrews’ office, when she had been sure Andrews was about to kiss her. He had sounded so sincere, so genuine about his response he didn’t kill her father. Emilia wanted to believe him, but then she would end up falling for his charm as well. She couldn’t allow that to happen, otherwise Andrews would get away with murder.

  Emilia would make sure he paid for what he did. She wasn’t going to let him walk away so easily.

  Emilia got one afternoon off a week, on a Thursday. It was her time to go and do what she wanted, see friends and family and do whatever errands she needed to do. Emilia had spent her first Thursday going around the village near where Andrews lived and getting to know the area. This Thursday, Emilia was meeting Charlotte at a delightful little tearoom she had come across on her earlier travels. She was looking forward to seeing her friend again and updating on the situation. Maybe Charlotte had found out a little more from Peter; gossip didn’t get far from Charlotte without her knowing about it. Whatever Emilia could find.

  Someone could call her obsessed with this. Emilia might have agreed if she were in their shoes. But then they hadn’t had to deal with someone getting away with the murder of a loved one. If they were in her situation, they would feel exactly the same. Emilia was just doing something about it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emilia was a little late getting to the tearoom. Anna had woken up not feeling very well that morning, and while she was doing her best to keep going, it was clear she wasn’t too good. She didn’t even want to go for her morning ride, which was a rarity in itself. She had been starting to get warm throughout the morning and then at lunchtime she barely ate anything. Emilia had sent for Andrews immediately, who had simply picked his daughter up and put her in bed, telling Jenkins to send for the physician. Anna had tried to protest, but Andrews had told her it was for her own good. She was not well, and she needed to rest.

  Emilia had felt bad about leaving her, as she was meant to be in charge of the girl, but Andrews had urged her to have her afternoon, asking that she returned a little earlier to help out. So, Emilia agreed she would go and see her friend and then come straight back. Everything else could wait until Anna was better.

  Once she had seen Charlotte, Emilia would go back. It would be good to see a friendly face, one where Emilia didn’t have to lie and pretend she was someone else. Relax a little.

  Emilia hurried into the village and over to the tearoom. Charlotte was sitting at a table by the window, delicately sipping from a china cup and looking splendid in pale green. How her friend managed to look so beautiful in whatever fashion she was wearing, Emilia had no idea. Charlotte had grace and was so refined. Emilia wished she could be the same.

  Doesn’t seem to make a difference to Andrews.

  Stop it!

  Emilia headed into the tearoom and made her way to Charlotte�
��s table.

  “Charlotte!”

  Charlotte looked up, and she beamed when she saw Emilia. She stood and clasped Emilia’s hands, kissing her cheek.

  “There you are! You were getting me worried.”

  “How so?” Emilia signalled to the middle-aged lady behind the counter. “Please may I have a cup of tea, Mrs. Lacey?”

  “Certainly, Mrs. Perry. I’ll bring it over shortly.”

  Emilia took off her gloves and sat, undoing her bonnet and sliding it off her head. It felt good to be back to herself and not someone she had made up.