Curse of the Mayfair Mummy (Wiggons’ School #4) (Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies)

by Jane Charles

  “I will not bargain with you again, Miss Doyle.” He reached back and opened the desk drawer. “You will go to Ascot and you will not speak. Further, for this next month you will do as you are told, with no argument, and study hard. At the end of the month, after my mother’s ball, if you’ve been successful in making Society curious about you and unable to determine from where you came, this will be yours.” By that time, he’d also know if she’d suit his purpose for spying amongst the ton. Henry lifted the sapphire and diamond necklace from the desk drawer.

  Miss Doyle gasped as her eyes rounded.

  “Do we have an agreement, Miss Doyle?”

  That was her necklace that Lord Kilsyth dangled from his long fingers and now she must earn it back?

  Oh, she’d like to bargain further but the necklace was too important. Yes, it was valuable, but she’d never sell it. It was all she had left of her parents, her family, everything that once was before her brother lost it all. She couldn’t take the risk or she might be forced to wait two years until she reached her majority to get it back. Even then, Kilsyth might claim it as his own since it had been won in a game of chance.

  “Miss Doyle?” Kilsyth questioned as if he was already confident of her answer.

  He had her and he knew it, which irritated Eve to no end. “Aye,” she finally agreed. “I’ll study hard and become a bluestockin’ and change the opinions of gentlemen everywhere.” Did Kilsyth think so little of his gender? It had been her experience that those who were considered wallflowers were more painfully shy than anything else, and the bluestockings of her acquaintance had little patience for the uninspired conversations from the gentlemen of the ton. Perhaps it was the opposite gender that was the problem and not the females of their acquaintance.

  Kilsyth grinned. “See, that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

  In truth, it wasn’t, but she’d need to keep her wits because Kilsyth was the type of gentleman who might roll right over anyone in his path—which currently happened to be her. And, he was only asking for one month. She could tolerate Kilsyth for that long. Once his experiment was done and she had the necklace, there was no need for her to remain.

  “You are forgetting one matter in changing the opinions of gentlemen,” Pickmore warned.

  “What could that be?” Kilsyth was actually perplexed. Or she assumed that was the cause of his eyebrows to lift with the downturn of his mouth.

  “Her dowry, of course. While not as large as many, she still brings ten thousand pounds.”

  “Yes, yes.” Kisltyh shook his head. “Some gentlemen would only need that bit of information to pursue her and that could skew the outcome of our experiment.” Then he looked to Eve. “We mustn’t let anyone know there is a dowry. You’re as poor as a church mouse if anyone should ask.”

  “I doubt they’d ask me.” She hadn’t been raised in such a backward manner that she didn’t already know that such discussions took place between a woman’s guardian and the gentleman who might be in pursuit of her. Never was the woman herself asked, which seemed to prove the point Kilsyth was making and the attitude he wished to change.

  “Of course, you are correct.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “I do not like being dishonest, Pickmore, but in this case, we must not be forthcoming either. Besides, when people learn I won her as a ward in a game of chance, they won’t expect Miss Doyle to bring anything with her but the clothing on her back.”

  “A perfectly reasonable assumption, of course,” Pickmore agreed.

  Now that the wager had been set and she knew what her part was to be, Eve grew impatient as she grew hungry. “When do we begin?”

  “This afternoon.”

  Eve stood again. “Will that be all?”

  “No, that is not all.” Lord Kilsyth then walked to the opposite corner of the desk and lifted a few books and presented them to her. “You shall study these until then. I want you to read from the very beginning to the very end, no skipping any chapters or topics. You’ll be tested at the end of the week.”

  Eve took the books, her hands unintentionally grazing his, sending a shock of awareness through her being. So, surprised, she quickly glanced down, not wishing for Kilsyth to read the unexpected confusion in her eyes and squinted her eyes to read the titles of the books. At that, she frowned, blocking from her mind the strange warmth in her hands. “I’ve read these before. When I was a child. It’s what me governess used.”

  “Well, the grammar didn’t take, as you still can’t pronounce a g, let alone the o’s you’ve butchered.”

  Oh, if she’d just put her mind to proper pronunciation as her sister had, Eve wouldn’t be needing to learn to speak again but could spend her time in this library in a far more pleasant manner, such as reading the vast variety of books.

  “I’ll just take these to the table by the window as that is where you will work for the next month.” Kilsyth removed the books from her grip and thankfully managed not to touch her fingers again.

  “Might I at least break my fast before I begin?”

  He straightened and looked at her in confusion. “You’ve not eaten?”

  “Not since last evenin’.”

  “Well, we can’t have that.”

  Thank goodness. At least she’d be spared a few moments before she had to settle into her studies.

  “I’ll have cook prepare something.” He pulled back a chair. “Now, run upstairs and get your spectacles so you can get to work. Sustenance will be delivered when it is ready.”

  “I’m ta eat in here? The library?”

  “At least let her enjoy her breakfast in the dining room,” Pickmore argued.

  “Nonsense,” Kilsyth argued. “A dining room is not necessary for eating. I’ve taken a number of my meals at my desk and it’s not harmed me yet.” Then the turned to Eve. “I daresay, Miss Doyle, I expect you to take many of your meals in here save supper.” He frowned. “I’ll need to assure myself of your manners and etiquette. We cannot let one simple matter be overlooked.”

  Anger rose. “I assure ye dat me manners and etiquette are quite proper, Lord Kilsyth. I may have been reduced to livin’ in a rundown set of rooms on the edge of Seven Dials, but I was raised on a wealthy estate.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve yet to witness much ladylike behavior and until I do, I shan’t be confident that you know how to comport yourself in any setting, even one as simple as dining.”

  Eve balled her hands into fists and gaped at him. Oh, if it weren’t for the necklace, she’d walk right out the door.

  “If you achieve success earlier than anticipated, we might add additional studies.” He paused in thought. “Egypt perhaps. It seems to be all the rage since the army relieved Napoleon of the items he plundered and they have since been given to the British Museum.”

  “Yes, an excellent idea,” Captain Pickmore agreed as he leaned forward to refill his tea. “Did you know that your neighbor, two doors down, a Lord Edgeworth, has come into possession of several antiquities from Egypt, including a mummy.” Pickmore chuckled. “He has them on display in his home.

  “Does he now?” Kilsyth asked in interest. “I’ll need to free time in my schedule so that I might also study this collection.”

  It was on the tip of Eve’s tongue to ask why anyone wished to keep a mummy in their home, but she held her silence.

  “Miss Doyle might enjoy the outing and artifacts as well,” Pickmore suggested in conversation with Kilsyth as he stood and as if she was no longer even in the room.

  “Miss Doyle can visit once we’ve presented her at the ball and not a moment earlier, Pickmore. I’ve already given her more latitude than intended,”

  Eve locked her jaw to keep from yelling at her new guardian as she watched him leave the library with Captain Pickmore. At the click of the door, she dropped into the chair and stared out the window. “Just ye wait, Kilsyth, just ye wait. I’ll do yer biddin’, for now, but in a month, the necklace will be mine and I’ll be gone.”

  Ch
apter 7

  “Pickmore, please find Mrs. Peade and have breakfast delivered to Miss Doyle.” Henry started for the door. He needed to be away from his house and gain some composure before all was lost.

  “Me?” he asked in surprise.

  “I need to go out,” Henry answered only to realize that he wasn’t properly dressed to leave the house, then headed for the stairs.

  “Where are you going if I’m to find your housekeeper?” Pickmore called from behind.

  As he wasn’t certain of his destination, Henry didn’t answer. He simply needed to be away from Miss Doyle to gather his thoughts. He’d quite lost control of the conversation a few times, and she’d bested him. That hadn’t happened in a very long time, so distance was necessary to prepare for the next time they were in the same room.

  “Will you be riding, taking the carriage or walking?” his valet asked.

  Henry thought for a moment. “Riding.” After all the talk about horses and races, he was of a mind to enjoy Rotten Row. The exercise would do him good and take his mind from Miss Doyle’s expressive eyes, bow lips, golden hair and how the lavender bodice molded her breasts. He’d kept the thoughts at bay during their discussion, but they wavered in the back of his mind continuously and must be dealt with quite expeditiously.

  Further, he must be very careful not to touch her again, no matter how inadvertent.

  His fingers had tingled when they brushed against her hand. Tingled! And, every part of his being became acutely aware that she was not only a beautiful woman, but desirable as well.

  Nothing of the like had ever happened to him before, and he’d need to make certain that it didn’t ever happen again. This unexpected attraction to his ward had put Henry on edge, and he’d not enjoyed the loss of emotional and mental control that he was accustomed to, which was quite disconcerting.

  Yes, he’d been harsh with her, but it was necessary. He was her teacher, her guardian, and he would not come to care for her. Henry just simply wouldn’t allow it.

  Miss Doyle thought him mad and quite possibly he was. While she argued about Ascot, he wanted to kiss her. If he hadn’t brought an end to the bargaining, who knows what else he would have agreed to?

  He was her teacher, guardian and absolutely nothing else would come of them. He’d make certain of that.

  In a flash, breeches, boots, waistcoat, riding jacket, cravat, gloves and a hat were produced as Henry shrugged out of the clothing he’d donned before going downstairs this morning. He hated being all trussed up when he was only going to be in his library, but as he would be out amongst the ton and might encounter his mother, it was best to be put to rights.

  It would be good to be out in the fresh air and perhaps the frivolous and inappropriate thoughts that had fluttered through his mind would be swept away.

  Except, his mind still held the image of when Miss Doyle stepped into the library, her golden hair swept back, clean of any grime from yesterday. He’d nearly sucked in his breath at her beauty. The lavender gown fit her better than it should, and Henry had no idea such a goddess was hidden beneath the rags she’d worn the day before. Her hair had fallen across her shoulder and one curl in particular had settled on her breast, and thus began the most inappropriate thoughts. Frankly, he’d been too stunned that he’d almost forgotten to stand at her entrance, which was unlike him and had his mother been present, he would have received a scolding such as he’d endured during childhood.

  Perhaps he should forgo Rotten Row and visit his mistress. After all, it had been nearly a month since he’d last seen Harriet. And, he probably should see how she was getting on. After a tumble or two, Miss Doyle shouldn’t affect him in the least and then Henry could concentrate on teaching without any inconvenient thoughts or physical reactions.

  He’d not had such thoughts about any particular female in a very long time—not until Miss Doyle stepped into the room. Not even his mistress of late. In fact, Henry had become quite bored, really. In his youth, he’d spent many an hour at the brothels, and had favorites, but after some time, Henry found that if his mind wasn’t engaged, he found little appealing about the woman he was with. That had been a few years ago. Then, he’d been introduced to Harriet at a Cyprian ball and learned that she was in need of a protector. As their discussion had been quite riveting at the time, Henry had physically reacted to her as well and a deal was struck.

  Harriet had been his since and the arrangement, for the most part, had worked out well. At least it had until recently. No more did she enjoy stimulating conversation before going off to bed and she’d actually become a bit clingy and demanding, something Henry had no patience for. If one wanted to suffer in such a manner, then one might as well marry, and thus the reason he hadn’t visited recently.

  However, now that it had been some time since they’d seen one another, he was certain all would be as it should. Then, he’d take care of what was necessary so that his mind might remain on teaching and not the size of Miss Doyle’s bodice, which was quite perfect indeed.

  “Have the carriage brought around instead.”

  “Yes, Lord Kilsyth,” his valet answered as he quit the room.

  After changing, he headed back downstairs to the waiting conveyance and gave direction to Covent Garden.

  “I bet Harriet knows nothing of animal husbandry,” he muttered aloud. Of course, why should she. Harriet was a soiled dove. A former actress who preferred to be kept in a comfortable arrangement by a gentleman. In fact, Harriet had started out much like Miss Doyle. After being down on her luck, she began a career on the stage. As most men don’t actually marry actresses, she’d found another way to set herself up well.

  Henry frowned. Had her brother not lost Miss Doyle in a game of chance, would she have eventually become a soiled dove as well? A woman to be passed from one protector to another?

  His stomach tightened. That would never do. Not at all. The very idea of another gentleman even touching Miss Doyle’s hand, let alone anything else, did not sit well with Henry. Not one bit.

  It was a good thing that he had won Miss Doyle because she was not the sort to end up like Harriet.

  Dear Lord, it just occurred to him that had anyone else taken the bet, she might have been won by them. Though Henry didn’t know all of the gentlemen in the room, he very much doubted any of them would have appreciated being suddenly saddled with a ward. In fact, they’d not see her as an innocent in need of protection, but a beautiful woman to be desired.

  Keegan and Ashford would have protected her. They may be Devils, but despite what Society believed, they’d not take an innocent for themselves, however, they’d be quite lost with what to do with her, unlike Henry. It was the other gentlemen at the gaming table who may have seen her as an opportunity to conquer and make their own.

  No, Miss Doyle, what little he’d been able to learn of her so far, would not be suited for the role of mistress. She was far too intelligent and beautiful and it would be a waste if she were reduced to simple decoration and limited use.

  Harriet chose her career. Miss Doyle could have very well been forced into it. Thank goodness she now had him.

  The carriage rolled to a stop outside of the home Henry had purchased a few years back. Though not large, not like his townhouse in Mayfair, it was still a very fine home, situated near a small park. Besides clothing and jewelry, he’d seen it furnished and servants hired. Harriet wanted for nothing as long as she was present when he required her.

  Today, he required.

  “Lord Kilsyth,” the butler greeted as he approached the door. “Do come in. I’ll advise Miss Evers of your arrival.”

  “Thank you, Humphrey.”

  “Will you be needing anything while you wait?”

  “Coffee, please.”

  “Of course.” Humphrey nodded and turned down the corridor to the stairs leading to the kitchens as Henry wandered into the front parlor.

  He had never felt comfortable in this room with all the pink, lace and frills, but
as it was Harriet who actually lived here, he’d not argued about the décor and suffered through the short time they spent in here during his visit.

  “Henry,” Harriet called from the entry. “Why didn’t you send word you were coming so that I might have prepared for you?”

  She wore a silk dressing gown of deep green and her russet hair tumbled about her shoulders. Harriet was a lovely woman. Not as lovely as Miss Doyle, but few women were. “Nonsense. There is nothing to be prepared, nor must you do anything.”

  A slow seductive smile came to her lips as she glided forward, much like a cat getting ready to pounce. “Oh, I’m certain there is something I must do, or you’d not be here.” She stopped before him and rested her hands on his chest.

  By now, Henry should at least feel the stirring of some desire, but he had absolutely no reaction to his mistress at all.

  What the blazes?

  “Your coffee, Lord Kilsyth,” Humphrey announced from the entry as he carried a tea service into the room.

  “You still drink that vile stuff, darling?” Harriet asked as she moved away from him to pour. “I much prefer tea.”

  “It’s an acquired taste, I’m told.”

  “One I haven’t acquired, apparently.” She laughed and held the cup out to him. “I’ve been concerned, Henry. I’ve not seen you in nearly a month.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve been rather busy of late.”

  “Students and studies?” She patted the cushion next to her on the settee and Henry settled beside her.

  It was no secret that Henry took on students, it was necessary for people to know since so many men came to his house. The secret was what Henry taught.

  “That, and an old friend, school chum of mine, recently returned from India and we’ve been becoming reacquainted.”

  Harriet dropped her hand to his thigh. “Well, your friend can’t do everything for you,” she said as she slid her hand up his inner thigh. Henry placed a hand over hers.