When they reached the cottage, he took the key from Marguerite’s shaking hand, opened the door and escorted her inside.
The place was just as chilly as he remembered. The scent of tallow candles pervaded the place. And no wonder, if she had been giving all her money to that damned blackguard Saxby.
‘Sit,’ he commanded.
She flinched.
Damn. ‘Please, sit down, my dear. Let me get you something to fortify your spirits.’ He looked about him. Would a widow living in such straitened circumstances have anything stronger than water or milk?
She ceased untying the strings of her bonnet to wave in the direction of the corner beside the hearth. ‘There is some sherry in the cabinet.’
Sherry was better than nothing.
He poured them both a glass. When he saw how her hand still shook, he put the glass down on a side table, undid the strings of her bonnet and tossed it on the chair on the other side of the room.
He then folded her fingers around the glass and brought it to her lips. ‘Drink. You will feel better.’
She laughed shakily and took a sip. ‘My word, my lord, you are in a rage, are you not?’
Beneath the brave words and smile there was a lingering fear. It dawned on him that she might think his anger was directed at her. The idea left him with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.
‘I apologise for my harshness. I must say, it is a good thing you were present or I might have strangled the little weasel.’
She relaxed. A little. ‘Weasel. The perfect description. I was on the cusp of recognising his voice when you arrived. If I had blurted out that I knew him, I don’t know what he might have done.’
The cold feeling spread. A man as desperate as Saxby might have done the unthinkable. ‘What the hell were you thinking of meeting him alone? I asked you to wait until you heard from me.’
‘I could not. If I had not arrived at the appointed time, he would have published the sketches. I could not let him do that without one more try to appease him. For my family’s sake.’
Damn it. Did the woman never think of herself? ‘He might have killed you once he realised the golden goose had laid its last egg. What would your family have thought then? I can tell you from experience it is none too pleasant.’
‘Oh, Jack. I am sorry. I know what happened to your wife, but I was not unprepared.’ She showed him her pistol.
He made a face of distaste. ‘I am sorry, but that little pop would scarcely make a dent in a kitten, never mind bring down a fully-grown man. Indeed, if you want my opinion—’
She opened her mouth.
He touched a finger to her soft lips, felt her breath against his skin and closed his eyes briefly. This was not about his feelings, it was about her safety. ‘If you want my opinion, which I know you do not, but you are going to get it anyway, waving a pistol like this about is likely to get you killed. Not your assailant.’
Her eyes rounded. ‘I do know how to use it.’
He shook his head. ‘Have you ever killed anything?’
‘No. But my father insisted I learn how to shoot when I was a girl.’
As he had suspected. ‘Shooting at a target is not the same as shooting a person.’ He let go a breath, tried to ease the tightness in his chest. ‘But I am glad to see you went prepared.’
She took another sip of her sherry. The colour began returning to her face. ‘You are right,’ she said. ‘I am not sure I would have had the courage to shoot him.’
‘You do not lack courage, my dear. Not in the least. But I am glad I arrived in time to put a stop to his preying on you. I don’t think you will have any further trouble with him, but I will speak to his grandfather, because he has obviously got himself into debt and is desperate. Who knows what sort of foolish thing he will think of next.’
‘His grandfather will likely disown him.’
‘It would serve him right.’
Her hand was steadier now, she looked calmer. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, to assure himself she was safe. She wouldn’t appreciate it, he was sure.
She put her drink down and hung her head. ‘I expect you want to see what it was that I was so anxious to have returned.’
He hated to see her so beaten down. He wanted to strangle Saxby all over again. He recalled the triumphant words he’d overheard. ‘Had to keep you in line, the hard way.’ Clearly, bullying ran in the Saxby family. He could only imagine what Marguerite had suffered at the hands of her husband. ‘Not unless you want me to.’
She looked surprised and relieved. ‘It needs burning. It was a very stupid thing to do, but I was so full of myself in those days. I imagined myself a female version of Cruikshank or Gillray, famous for my clever wit. I didn’t know enough about the world to be witty. David was right, it was little more than smut.’
The anguish in her voice caused his heart to twist painfully. ‘We all make mistakes when we are young.’ Some mistakes were worse than others.
‘I do most heartily thank you for your timely intervention.’
‘For all my bragging, I was unable to discover the identity of the man you met in the lane before it was time for you to meet him. He covered his tracks with the cunning of a fox. I was very nearly too late this evening, having gone off on another wild goose chase. Fortunately, when I realised he had slipped my grasp, I knew where to find him and you.’
‘Well, it is all over now,’ she said. ‘And we can continue on with our lives. How is the new governess?’
The coolness in her voice gave him pause. Instead of kissing her, which he had been wanting to do since the moment he walked into her cottage, he followed her lead with the change of topic. Perhaps she needed time to recover from her ordeal.
‘She is a very nice young woman. Very well educated.’
‘The girls are behaving themselves?’ she asked casually, but she must have sensed his reservations.
‘Janey is fine, but Elizabeth keeps telling her that she is not doing things the way you did them. She is not co-operating. And she has been up to her old pranks.’
‘Oh, dear. I received a letter from Lizzie. She did not mention any problems.’
He looked grim. ‘I doubt she sees it as a problem that she put a frog in the woman’s bed and has dropped and broken her slate about ten times this week.’
‘What about the riding lessons?’
‘The pony arrives tomorrow, but she now says she wants nothing to do with it.’
She looked thoughtful. ‘I am surprised. What does your governess recommend?’
‘Today she suggested leaving her in the nursery with Netty while she teaches Jane on her own.’
‘I agree. If she is going to behave like a baby, then she should be treated as one. I must say I am very surprised. She promised me she would give the woman a fair chance.’
He looked grim. ‘I gave her a list of rules before the woman arrived. To make my expectations clear, you understand. To ensure it went well.’
She shook her head at him. ‘Oh, Jack. Really? You do not think that is a little too much?’
Jack. He liked it that she was calling him Jack again, instead of Lord Compton. If he could not be her lover, then he would very much like to be her friend. Or at least he would accept that was all she had to offer.
‘What?’ he asked.
Chapter Sixteen
Marguerite didn’t really have the right to interfere, but she could feel his unhappiness and confusion. She also felt terrible for Lizzie. His need for rules, for control, was the one thing about him that scared her. She feared a spirited child like Elizabeth might find it too irksome, as she had found it irksome with Neville.
‘She is trying to manipulate me,’ he continued. ‘Saying she will be as good as gold if I make you return. As if I can make you do anything.’
‘She is a ver
y clever little girl. She needs a mother, I think.’
He swallowed. ‘I know. She wants me to marry you.’
Marriage to Jack. Her heart leapt at the thought. And her stomach sank. She had been subjected to one man’s authority, how could she give up her freedom to another? Especially one with a list of rules. ‘Good lord! What on earth put that idea in her mind?’
He grimaced ruefully. ‘Would it be so very bad? We are clearly attracted to each other. The girls are so much happier...’
Her heart picked up speed. Something inside her surged with hope and longing. She held her breath, wondering, fearing...
He flexed his hands. ‘Of course, I am not suggesting you continue teaching them as you did before you left. Naturally the governess would remain. You don’t even have to be involved with them all that much. It would be a comfort to them simply knowing you are there.’
What on earth was he suggesting? ‘You mean you are asking me to be a sort of figurehead? To enter into a marriage of convenience?’
He winced. ‘I would not put it quite that way. We are compatible, I believe. There is an attraction between us, is there not? I want us to be husband and wife.’
Cold trickled through her veins. A sense of dread. ‘And do you also have a list of rules your wife must abide by?’
He hesitated. ‘I did think there were a few things...’
As she had thought. He would rule her the way Neville had. Much as she liked him, was attracted to him—perhaps even loved him, because she was some sort of fool—she could never go back to that. ‘I am flattered by your offer, but I have lived under the thumb of one husband. I cannot go through that again.’
He stared at her. ‘You surely do not compare me to Saxby,’ he said, clearly affronted.
‘My husband controlled my every waking moment. When I would eat. Who I would see. What I would write in my letters to my family. I will not give over the control of my life to someone else.’
He looked horrified. ‘That is certainly not what I intend. I simply have a list of a few common-sense—’
She rose to her feet. ‘I like you, Jack. I really do, but if you cannot trust my common sense—’
‘Really. And what about this blackmailer chap? Was paying him common sense?’
Anger rose in her breast. ‘It might not have been your way of handling the problem, but I did not want to embroil anyone else in my mistake. I am certainly grateful for your assistance, but that does not mean that I would not have been able to deal with him. Eventually.’
She was so angry her breath was coming in short gasps. Not just angry. Disappointed. Hurt.
‘My wife died because she did not trust me with her problems. If she had come to me, told me about her brother needing money, instead of sneaking out to meet him in the middle of the night, she would be alive today. Yes, it was bad luck that a criminal had entered our grounds, looking for the main chance, but if she had abided by the rules and not ventured out in the middle of the night, then she would not have been murdered for the few coins she carried. I had not forbidden her to go out. I should have. Why can you not obey a few simple rules designed to keep you safe?’
The pain in his voice was palpable. Clearly, he blamed himself for his wife’s death.
‘You would have given her brother the money if she had come to you?’
‘Of course not. I would have told him to approach his father like a man, instead of preying upon his sister’s soft heart.’
‘She would have known your feelings on the matter.’
He nodded tersely. ‘Yes. I did not have a very high opinion of her brother.’
‘Which is why she did what she did. It was her decision. No list of rules wold have prevented her going to meet him.’
He let go a harsh-sounding breath. ‘Then how was I supposed to protect her?’
She felt for him, deeply. ‘Not by controlling her every movement. All it does is drive a wife to go behind your back. It wasn’t your fault or hers that a criminal saw her leave the house and meet her brother. He saw the opportunity and took it. If he had not been there that night, you would have been none the wiser and all three of you would have been happy. After all, he was the intruder. She would have thought herself perfectly safe within the confines of your estate. She is not to blame and you are not to blame. The man who murdered her is the only one at fault.’
He shrugged. ‘A husband is supposed to protect his wife.’
‘And who do you blame when a criminal comes up before you at the assizes? Do you blame the parents for the acts of a criminal? Do we not all bear responsibility for our own decisions? A woman is just as responsible as a man, surely?’
He sank down on to the chair. ‘Her father thought otherwise. He wanted to know why I wasn’t taking charge of my family. Of my wife. I vowed then I would make sure I would be in control in future.’
‘I expect your father-in-law was looking for someone to blame, other than himself. Did you ever wonder why her brother didn’t apply to his father for the money?’
‘I know why. He was a spoiled brat. His father had already paid his debts once and said he would not do so again. And that is why—’ Jack closed his eyes. ‘You are right. I have been blaming myself all this while. The only person to blame is the murderer.’
‘Is it possible Lizzie, having become used to the freedoms she has enjoyed recently, found the return to previous rules unfair and she is blaming the new governess?’
He sighed. ‘I think you are right about that, too. I did curtail their walks in the afternoon. The thought of them wandering around in the woods with a woman I do not know or trust the way I know and trust you—’ He shook his head. ‘I could not allow it.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But I must, must I not?’
‘Yes. You must.’
‘And about the other matter...my proposal.’
Everything in her heart wanted to say yes. She yearned to accept. Her insides trembled with longing. But how could she marry knowing that as soon as she did, she would lose all her rights to herself, body and soul? How could she trust him to understand she could be trusted without some list of rules by which to order her life? Besides, he needed an heir. She had never wanted children. She wanted her freedom. She shook her head. ‘I really like you, Jack. I am attracted to you, but I do not think I am ready for marriage. I am not sure I will ever be ready.’
He gave her a stare full of disappointment. ‘So, you expect me to trust my eight-year-old daughter to go exploring without coming to harm, but you will not trust me to be your husband, to honour and cherish you without becoming a tyrant?’ A thread of anger ran through his words. She had hurt him.
‘I am going to miss you terribly. And the girls, too, but I simply am not ready to give up my freedom and enter into a marriage as a matter of convenience.’ She loved him too much for that.
She stilled. She did love him. But that was not what he was offering. And once she was married, could she trust a man who did not love her to keep his word? Confusion filled her mind. She wanted to trust him. But... ‘I would prefer us to remain friends, if that is possible?’
He nodded slowly. ‘If you ever change your mind...come to me. I’ll be waiting.’
The thought of him waiting and hoping was like a blow to her heart. ‘No. Please. Do not wait. I will not change my mind. I like my independence too well.’
He picked up his hat and gloves and bowed. ‘Then I bid you goodnight.’
He closed the door softly behind him.
She covered her face with her hands and wept. She should have said yes. She was being a coward. She simply could not pluck up the courage.
* * *
‘Good morning, Papa.’
Jack lifted his gaze from his paperwork to smile at his eldest daughter as she perched herself on the chair facing him across his desk.
‘Good morning, Elizabeth
. How are you today?’
Elizabeth had taken it upon herself to report once a week on the affairs of the schoolroom. She had developed some odd notion that she was now the lady of the house. Since their tête-à-tête on his return from his abysmal attempt to woo Lady Marguerite, she had been a model pupil and a happy little girl. Except for the days on which she presented herself in his study. On those occasions she was all business.
‘I am fine, Papa.’ Her little mouth pursed. ‘Actually, I am cross with Janey.’
‘Why?’
‘She will not listen to me when I tell her it is my turn to ride the rocking horse.’
Miss Ladbrooke had mentioned there were some arguments over the horse. ‘Perhaps I should return it to the attic, if it is such a bone of contention.’
She frowned. ‘Oh, no. Then no one can have a turn. I just need Janey to listen when I tell her to get off.’
‘Perhaps it would be better if you asked her nicely.’ He could recall similar arguments with his friends at school. They always resulted in fisticuffs.
Lizzie looked thoughtful. ‘Lady Marguerite said if we don’t tell each other how we feel, how are we supposed to know? But I cannot tell Janey how I feel if she won’t listen.’
Marguerite again. ‘Try talking with her about it when you are not in the heat of the moment. When you are not actually arguing about whose turn it is.’
Lizzie tilted her head. She nodded slowly. ‘Yes, Papa. I will try. Thank you.’
He smiled at his serious-faced daughter. She was such a pet and so easy to read. ‘Was there something else you wanted to discuss.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, Papa. Nanny James told Miss Ladbrooke it is time for her to retire. Netty is old enough to begin her lessons and Nanny says since she is no longer needed she would like to go and stay with her sister. She plans to speak to Mrs York about it today.’
‘Netty is still a baby,’ he said, unwilling to admit the passage of time.
Lizzie stared at him gravely. ‘She is nearly three, Papa. I started my lessons when I was three. Nanny said so.’
A Family for the Widowed Governess Page 19
