Breaking the Governess's Rules

by Michelle Styles

  ‘You are my last hope.’ Furniss settled down into the red armchair opposite and poured himself a glass of port. ‘I thought and thought about how I could make them stay.’

  ‘I knew Miss Sibson a long time ago.’ Jonathon gave an exaggerated yawn. As if he would provide information to a rival! Furniss was on his own. ‘I can provide no insight.’

  ‘Not Miss Sibson. I know all about Louisa. We met months ago in Sorrento.’ Furniss gave a little wave of his hand, missing the cut-glass decanter by a hair’s breadth. ‘I have devoted time to studying her, her ways and how her mind works. She keeps her cards close to her chest, but I think there must be some secret sorrow in her past. She always changes the subject.’

  ‘You did?’ Jonathon tightened his fingers about the glass as a white-hot rage shot through him. His friend had known Louisa was alive and had known for months. The time he had wasted. ‘Why are you not engaged? You are both free.’

  ‘There was my dear mama to think about.’

  ‘What does your mother have to do with it?’

  ‘Mama would put poison in Miss Sibson’s tea if she could. Mama only went to Sorrento because she was convinced Aunt Mattie was going to leave her fortune to her. In the event, she only received a few pieces of jewellery.’ Furniss lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder. ‘Mama feels Miss Sibson exerted an undue influence on my late aunt.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘There are reasons why my father prefers to live at his club. Mama should never have made disparaging remarks about Aunt Mattie’s cameos. It is her own fault she lost the inheritance. But, regardless, I will get no help from that quarter.’

  ‘What does this have to do with me?’

  ‘Your Uncle Arthur collected cameos. It came to me in the carriage and Aunt Daphne’s eyes sparkled when she mentioned him. Perhaps there was a connection.’

  ‘I can’t help you, Furniss. I know of little connection between the Misses Elliots and Uncle Arthur. He did not hold women in very high standing.’ Jonathon stared at the fire. Furniss was right. There had to be a way of keeping Louisa here, rather than letting her run to ground in Sorrento. ‘But if I think of anything …’

  ‘I knew you would help, Chesterholm.’

  ‘I promise nothing.’ Jonathon tapped a finger against his mouth. ‘But Miss Sibson will not be going to Sorrento.’

  Chapter Three

  ‘The concert was a splendid outing. I am so pleased Rupert suggested it. It was just the tonic. I do declare Rupert is far better away from his odious mother, don’t you agree?’ Miss Daphne said, while Louisa poured the late-night cups of hot chocolate. ‘You are going to reconsider going back to Sorrento. Given encouragement, Rupert might… It would do my heart good to see you settled.’

  ‘We have seen everything we came to England to see,’ Louisa replied carefully. Tomorrow, she’d go and book their passage back. Marriage to anyone was not in her plans. Tomorrow, she would keep to the strict letter of her rules. Tomorrow she would remember what was important in her life—her future rather than her past. ‘We have already spent longer in England than we planned.’

  ‘But why the immense hurry? Only this morning, you appeared content to reside here a bit longer.’

  ‘I have no idea what you are talking about, Miss Daphne.’

  ‘Suddenly you are frightened of staying in England, Louisa. Why the change? There might be things I still wish to see. And my nephew’s fascination with you grows. He is not up in Newcastle simply to pass the time of day with his old auntie. I predicted as much in Sorrento last spring.’

  ‘You read too much into his attention.’

  ‘And you read too little, my girl.’

  Louisa regarded the chocolate pot for a long moment. One of her favourite Italian rituals was drinking hot chocolate just before bed. Miss Daphne preferred to have heaping spoonfuls of sugar, but Louisa liked it with the barest hint of sweetness. There was a certain something about the way the chocolate tasted—smooth and rich, reminding her to take joy in the small pleasures rather than looking for castles in the air.

  Tonight all the hot chocolate did was serve to remind her how easily her present life could be destroyed if she was not very careful. She should never have kissed Jonathon back. She had grown beyond the naïve girl who thought his kisses showed his devotion.

  ‘Nothing about England frightens me,’ Louisa said, placing the silver spoon down. ‘Sir Francis expects me to return and give him his answer.’

  ‘Poppycock. That man is a puffed-up popinjay. Mattie could not abide him and his airs.’

  ‘She respected his opinion.’

  ‘On cameos.’ Miss Daphne leant forwards. ‘Sir Francis is closer to my age than yours. You want a young man to warm your bed, Louisa. Trust me on this.’

  Louisa took a delicate sip of the chocolate. Miss Daphne seemed to have an uncanny way of knowing if there was an attraction between a couple. This evening’s kiss had been about the past, an aberration, and had nothing to do with her present or, more importantly, her future. ‘Nevertheless he expects an answer.’

  ‘It was good to see young Jonathon looking so well.’ Miss Daphne reached for the sugar bowl. ‘Particularly after his accident a few years ago.’

  Louisa froze. Until this evening she had not even realised that either of the Misses Elliots knew Jonathon.

  ‘You know about the accident,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Mattie liked to keep up with the doings of Arthur Fanshaw and his relations, or at least she used to.’ Miss Daphne gave her a sharp look. ‘After you arrived, she had a new enthusiasm and rarely spoke of them. I was pleased at the time that she had finally come to terms with her heartache, but now I wonder.’

  Louisa swallowed hard. Miss Mattie knew the full story about her past, but had never mentioned it. ‘Curious. I … I had left the household before the accident. The first I heard of it was today. Miss Mattie never said anything to me.’

  Miss Daphne set her cup down. ‘Did Mattie know of your connection to the Ponsby-Smythes?’

  Louisa raised her head and met the elderly lady’s gaze full on. ‘Yes, she did. I explained about my past when the doctor introduced us.’

  ‘She will have had her reasons.’ Miss Daphne frowned. ‘Old scandals can return when you least expect it. People’s memories are long, but I think you are being overly cautious, my dear. There is no need to go back to Sorrento with your tail between your legs, and accept a proposal that you will regret for the rest of your life. We can keep to our new schedule.’

  Louisa reached for the sugar bowl and added another spoon of sugar to her chocolate, before she carefully stirred. The result was far too sweet, but it helped to steady her nerves. ‘Perhaps, but I do not want anyone to say that I was wicked.’

  ‘Who would say that?’

  ‘Your niece Honoria. She might say that I exerted undue influence on Miss Mattie before she died. I never knew Miss Mattie intended to leave me the money.’ Louisa had never asked for the inheritance. It had come as a complete surprise. Both Miss Mattie and Louisa had shared a common fascination for all things ancient. Under Miss Mattie’s tutelage, Louisa had become an expert on cameos and Miss Mattie had considered Louisa the best person to maintain her collection.

  ‘Mattie loved you like a daughter. She also gave Honoria and that solicitor of hers a piece of her mind. You need not fear. You will have no problems from my niece. Mattie made sure of it. Mattie liked to take care of all contingencies and I trusted her.’ Miss Daphne reached out her hand. ‘But I think I deserve to know what happened with young Jonathon and make my own judgement. You want to run away from me because of it.’

  ‘What happened to me, happened years ago. It is a depressingly old and familiar tale.’ Louisa attempted a smile. ‘I learnt my lesson. Believing a gentleman who promises the moon leads to disappointment. Miss Mattie agreed with me.’

  ‘I want the story and not the aftermath. The aftermath I know. What passed between you all those years ag
o?’

  Louisa swallowed hard, considering how to tell her tale. She had been an impressionable twenty years old and had thought her fairy tale was coming true—a handsome prince who married for love instead of duty. She should have seen the warning signs—the bored rake home from London, the seduction, and then her giving in and believing him when he had promised to return with a licence to marry her. Mrs Ponsby-Smythe had dismissed her without a character reference when rumours had reached her ears. Then, three months later, she had discovered that she was pregnant and had gone to Mrs Ponsby-Smythe’s, searching for Jonathon, and had discovered about the impending marriage between Jonathon and Clarissa. When on the voyage to Naples, she had fallen ill with a high fever and the baby had been born too early—a beautiful little girl with translucent skin and jet-black hair, perfect in every way, except she never breathed. A large part of Louisa had died that day.

  ‘Miss Daphne, he is part of my painful past, not my future.’ Louisa put her hand over Miss Daphne’s withered one as she finished the story. ‘But you can see why I must return to Sorrento. I do not want any rumours to soil your skirts.’

  ‘No, no, that would be giving into the pompous society prigs without a fight. You must stay.’ Two pink spots appeared on Miss Daphne’s withered cheeks. ‘I can fight. I am unafraid and I stick by my true friends.’

  ‘I know.’ Louisa smiled back.

  She valued Miss Daphne’s friendship. It was why she had agreed to this trip and why she knew she would stay until Miss Daphne wanted to leave, but it was unfair to ask Miss Daphne to fight those sorts of battles at her age.

  Louisa knew she had made a mistake, and some day she would stop paying for it. She leant forwards and banished tonight’s kiss to the further reaches of her mind. Her reaction was an aberration brought on by suddenly seeing him again. Now that she was prepared, nothing like that would ever happen again.

  ‘I am no fool and will not make that mistake again.’

  ‘You are certain of that?’ Miss Daphne’s eyes took on a knowing gleam. ‘I have some knowledge of human nature, Louisa, despite being a spinster. Men seldom look at women like Lord Chesterholm looked at you if they are uninterested.’

  Louisa concentrated on gathering up the cups and saucers, arranging them neatly on the tray, ready for Jenkins, the butler, to remove it, rather than meeting Miss Daphne’s knowing gaze. ‘Miss Daphne, you are beginning to speculate. Speculation overheats the blood as Miss Mattie was wont to say. A woman can learn from her mistakes. I learnt from mine.’

  ‘Hmm, but what are his intentions now? I have often found men with fascinating eyes can make a woman forget her lessons. And Lord Chesterholm has some of the most fascinating I have seen in many a long year.’

  ‘Your eyesight must be mistaken.’ Louisa focused on the cups and tried not to think about Jonathon’s preposterous suggestion that he had a claim over her. She was not an object. Miss Daphne’s eyes assessed her for a long moment but Louisa looked back unblinkingly. Finally Miss Daphne turned away.

  ‘I accept you want to believe that, Louisa.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Please ask Cook to make iced buns for my At Home tomorrow.’

  ‘Iced buns?’ Louisa frowned. Miss Daphne never served teacakes at At Homes. The women had a cup of tea or coffee, but never iced buns. The whole procedure was shrouded in tradition, even on the hottest days in Sorrento.

  ‘I am expecting callers, gentlemen callers. You did make an impression, Louisa, even if you wish to deny it.’ Miss Daphne tapped the side of her nose. ‘And if I am right, tomorrow’s At Home will be highly productive. One must fight fire with fire. And then, Louisa, when it is all done, we can go home with our heads held high.’

  Miss Daphne swept out of the room.

  Louisa stared at the dregs of her hot chocolate, turning the conversation over in her mind. It made a sort of sickening sense. Miss Daphne expected Jonathon to appear alongside Lord Furniss. Louisa reached for the poker and gave the coal fire a final stir, sending an arch of flame into the air.

  All she knew was that she could not remain in this drawing room like some scared rabbit, waiting for Jonathon to appear. She had stopped running years ago. Jonathon deserved to learn a lesson in civility and she looked forward to administering it. Miss Mattie would have approved.

  ‘Miss Daphne,’ Louisa called on her way to bed, ‘the At Home will go splendidly tomorrow. I can feel it in my bones.’

  The clock on the mantelpiece was only a few minutes away from twelve. Last night in bed, Louisa had dreaded that Jonathon would arrive bright and early, but now she dreaded that Miss Daphne’s premonition was wrong. The sole callers were a Mrs Blandish and her two daughters.

  Once the At Home was finished, she would confront Jonathon, corner him and force him to back down. He would cease to threaten her or her good name.

  Louisa risked a breath and tried once again to concentrate on the conversation between Miss Daphne and the younger Miss Blandish, a conversation that appeared to have Miss Daphne enthralled beyond the bounds of propriety. The conversation appeared to revolve around Miss Nella Blandish’s exploits with a gang of murderous thieves earlier that summer in Gilsland.

  ‘And now my former governess, Miss Milton, is married to Viscount Ravensworth,’ Miss Nella Blandish finished with a triumphal clap of her hands. ‘I received the letter this very morning. And the entire marriage is thanks to me.’

  ‘That is quite enough, Nella.’ The elder Miss Blandish gave a prolonged sniff and toss of her blonde curls. She would be pretty if she did not look so bored with the proceedings. As it was, Miss Blandish reminded Louisa of Clarissa Newton—beautiful, but self-absorbed. ‘We all understand that we were not invited to the wedding.’

  ‘Lord Ravensworth procured a special licence, rather than having a society wedding,’ her mother said with a thoughtful expression. ‘It is how a governess can come to marry a viscount. Personally I never thought Daisy Milton had it in her, but it turns out she was an heiress all along.’

  ‘Daisy Milton?’ Louisa said, sitting bolt upright, all thoughts of ending the visit fled. ‘Daisy Milton, who has a sister Felicity and a young niece?’

  ‘That is correct. Do you have a connection?’ Mrs Blandish raised her lorgnette and proceeded to minutely examine Louisa.

  ‘Daisy Milton is an old friend of mine, but I had no idea that she was even engaged. Let alone entangled with jewel thieves.’ Louisa put her hands to her mouth. She dreaded to think how Daisy had coped. Daisy had based her entire existence on keeping her reputation spotless. ‘I look forward to receiving her latest letter.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Mrs Blandish said, settling herself against the sofa’s cushions. Her tone implied that Daisy might not have time for such an acquaintance now that she had been elevated to a peerage.

  ‘You do seem to be hearing news about your old acquaintances, Louisa dear,’ Miss Daphne said with a twinkle in her eye. ‘And here you thought you would not have any connection to Newcastle.’

  ‘Do you know someone else?’ Miss Blandish asked, suddenly becoming animated. ‘Is it someone we know? Someone in society?’

  Louisa inwardly seethed. If only Miss Daphne had had the sense to remain quiet. People had long memories and there was no telling what Mrs Blandish might have heard and how the tale had been twisted. Daisy might even have inadvertently told Louisa’s tale. It bothered her that less than twenty-four hours after encountering Jonathon, she was tempted to return to that naïve girl who looked to others to solve her problems.

  ‘I … I …’ Louisa began. ‘That is to say …’

  Miss Elliot rocked back and forth as if she were no older than Miss Nella Blandish. ‘The fourth Baron of Chesterholm did Louisa the honour of renewing his acquaintance last evening.’

  ‘And were you good friends with just Lord Chesterholm or his late wife as well?’ Miss Blandish asked with a faint curl of her lip. There was a sharp intake of breath from Miss Daphne and Miss Nella Blandish pre
tended a sudden interest in her glove buttons.

  ‘Susan!’ her mother exclaimed. ‘Manners are the young lady’s greatest asset.’

  ‘I trust you do not think the question impertinent,’ Miss Blandish said, her cheeks becoming stained cherry pink. ‘You do understand why I ask it? If one is to be a débutante in London, one must be so careful.’ She gave Nella Blandish a ferocious look. ‘Particularly when one’s sister is given to exaggeration. My sister’s tongue nearly did for dear Miss Milton’s prospects and I must not have the same happen to me.’

  ‘I was a governess to Lord Chesterholm’s sister,’ Louisa replied with a clenched-jaw smile.

  ‘And you have given up being a governess?’ Mrs Blandish asked, leaning forwards, her eyes suddenly alight. ‘We are currently between—’

  An involuntary shudder went through Louisa. Mrs Blandish with her purple turban and self-righteous airs represented all that was wrong with being a governess. She pitied anyone who had the misfortune to work for the woman. ‘I found it more pleasant to be a companion.’

  ‘But now, Louisa is a dear, dear friend.’ Miss Daphne gave a broad smile. ‘Louisa is far too modest about her prospects. My sister left her the bulk of her considerable fortune. She has no need to work. I daily expect a good match for her. My nephew …’

  ‘I am sure you choose your friends well, Miss Elliot.’ Miss Blandish began to wave her fan about and her eyes took on a hunted expression. ‘No harm was intended. Mama is desperate to replace Miss Milton.’

  ‘Miss Daphne and her late sister have never had problems distinguishing between true friends and hangerson.’ Louisa kept her head up. The Blandishes and their kind were the sort of creatures that Louisa despised—only concerned about appearances and quick to judge. Exactly like Clarissa Newton and her parents.

  Before Miss Blandish had a chance to reply, Jenkins brought in a silver tray with two cream-coloured calling cards.