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

by Jane Charles

  If the ball was to be held in two days then she’d be free in three. The knowledge both thrilled Eve and brought trepidation. Was she ready to leave so soon, now that she knew it was an option?

  Yes! She must go. No longer could she ignore the effect Kilsyth had on her person. Her fingers still burned from where they’d bushed against his, something that had occurred since the first time they touched, which was why she did her best to avoid being near his person.

  “There is not a moment to be wasted, Miss Doyle. Finish your tea so we can get to work.”

  He didn’t yet realize that there was no more work to be done. She’d spent the better part of last night repeating each and every sentence, concentrating on saying each word perfectly until she sounded more English than Irish and didn’t stop until the sky began to lighten.

  “Are you certain you can perfect her speech enough to make others wonder in only two days?” Pickmore inquired?

  Eve smiled into her tea cup before taking a sip.

  “Of course. All it takes is a bit of concentration and determination. I have no doubt that Miss Doyle will not fail.”

  “If she does, she could also remain silent, I suppose,” Pickmore offered. “It wouldn’t be so unusual for her not to have recovered her voice in such a short time.”

  “No. She must speak or we will never learn if our experiment has worked.”

  Experiment. That was all she was to these two. It galled Eve but knowing that she was nothing more would make it easier for her to walk out the front door in three days.

  “Yes, I suppose.” Pickmore sighed.

  “Do hurry with your tea, Miss Doyle. We’ve sentences to review.”

  There were always sentences to review, books to read aloud and correspondence to write. In three days, none of it would matter any longer and Eve’s use to Kilsyth would come to an end. An unexpected stab at her heart came on suddenly, but she squelched it as it was more evidence of why she needed to be rid of him and this place as soon as possible.

  “Well, I must be off.” Pickmore stood. “I’m to meet with my father’s man of business about locating lodgings for myself.”

  Pickmore was leaving as well? What would Kilsyth do with both of them gone? The gentleman led a rather reclusive existence, hardly leaving his townhouse at all. What would become of him if he were to live here alone, surround by only servants?

  “Good luck to you then. I hope you find the perfect location for your needs,” Kilsyth called.

  “I’ve no doubt that I will.” Pickmore grinned. “Good day. I’ll see you at supper.”

  “Good day, Captain Pickmore.”

  As soon as he closed the door, Kilsyth rose from his desk and came to the sitting area, carrying the familiar parchment. The sentences she’d already memorized from having said them so often.

  “Now, Eve, we must correct your speech.” He stopped and blinked at her. “Forgive me. Miss Doyle, we must continue your studies.”

  Hearing her name on his lips caused the queerest sensations in her belly as the blood heated in her veins. Until this moment, she’d always been Miss Doyle. Perhaps she was becoming ill and the headache was just the beginning. Though, it was gone when she woke this morning.

  “I understand, Lord Kilsyth,” Eve murmured, careful in her speech, and set her tea aside.

  “Now slowly, concentrating on each sound and pronunciation, as we have before.”

  She took the parchment and rose from her seat. Kilsyth turned from her and began to pace, as was his habit during these lessons.

  ”It’s raining in Axbridge Again.”

  He paused for a moment, then continued. “The next one please.”

  “You are going to bring me the pig.”

  “Go on.”

  “Epping and Godalming are playing with the dog.”

  Slowly he turned. “Another.”

  “You are dancing again.”

  His eyes bore into hers with such an intensity as Kilsyth took a step in her direction. “Another.”

  “You are going to Chipping Sodbury.”

  “The last one,” he said as a smile began to pull at his lips.

  “You are a pleasing sight.”

  “We did it, Eve,” he yelled triumphantly before sweeping her up in his arms and turning her about.

  She gave a yelp and braced her hands on his shoulders.

  “We did it, Eve,” Kilsyth said as he slowly set her back on the floor, her body sliding against his as heat scorched through her veins. As her feet came to a rest on the floor, she looked up into his light grey eyes, darkening with an intensity she’d not seen before.

  “We did it,” he said again as he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Chapter 12

  They’d done it. With every syllable she uttered, not one hint of Irish lilt, dialect or even Covent Garden slipped into her tone. Eve had spoken as a lady, a princess, and now he was kissing her.

  Henry stilled and lifted his lips from hers. He should pull away, but she fit so nicely tucked against him. Too nicely.

  Her green eyes stared up at him, but for the first time, he could not read the emotion in the depths.

  He’d shocked her!

  Of course he had. She was his ward and he’d just treated her like…well, not like a lady as he should. Slowly Henry let his hands fall from her waist and took a step back as she let go of the hold on his shoulders.

  “I apologize,” he muttered.

  At his words, she clutched her skirt and looked to the floor but not before he noted the blush stain her cheeks.

  It hadn’t been his intention to embarrass her.

  “I overstepped and for that I dearly apologize. I am your guardian and you are my ward and I can assure you that I will not take such liberties again.”

  Eve still didn’t look at him, but stared at the floor.

  “Please forgive me.”

  She blinked up at him and frowned. “Of course, Lord Kilsyth. You were simply relieved that I’d finally learned to speak properly.”

  That wasn’t it at all! Well, perhaps some of it had been relief, but it was also the desire he’d been fighting for days. Of course, Henry couldn’t tell her that, especially since he’d just assured Eve that it would never happen again.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to return to my chamber and rest.”

  This time Henry wasn’t certain if she wished to be rid of him because he’d overstepped, or perhaps she was truly ill.

  “I spent most of the night repeating your sentences, if you must know, and did not find sleep until the sun was rising.”

  Why did she work through the night when, at the time, Eve believed they still had two weeks to prepare?

  “I realized the importance of my speech to fulfill my desire for employment, especially when I still wasn’t allowed to speak in front of others. I don’t wish to be a further burden on you, Lord Kilsyth, and have already taken up far too much of your valuable time.”

  “Burden? You’ve never been a burden to me, Eve,” he assured her, making certain that for once his tone was not sharp.

  “You are being kind, but now you can be assured that I will not embarrass you when we attend the ball. Society will never know that your Irish ward had once lived in poverty in Covent Garden.”

  Bitterness laced her tone. Had he offended her somehow? Surely the kiss hadn’t angered her so much and he had apologized.

  “If you will excuse me.” She pulled away and stepped to the door. “If you need assistance with your correspondence later, have Mrs. Peade send for me.”

  Then she was gone, leaving Henry very much alone in his library. At one time, that was how he preferred to exist. Alone in this room where he could work and concentrate without interruption. Suddenly the room seemed very empty and he, very much alone.

  Eve made her way to her chamber, slowly and carefully when all she really wished to do was run and put as much distance between her and Kilsyth as quickly as possible.

  He’d kissed her
. Not only that but he’d picked her up, turned her around and then held her close.

  Never in her wildest imagination had she ever dreamed that the melding of two mouths could be so wonderful, or that such contact could heat her entire body. Or, maybe it was from his hands, where they nearly scorched her skin, even through her gown. But, before she could fully comprehend what had occurred, or make sense of it, Kilsyth was apologizing and then promised never to do so again.

  Though it was right and proper that he do so, the rejection stung nonetheless. Not only had he been shocked at his own behavior, but he stepped away from her so quickly it was if she’d been the one to burn him.

  If he hadn’t wished to kiss her, why had he? Was it simply that he was relieved and it was a congratulatory impulse? An impulse he quickly regretted?

  Of course it was.

  Eve already knew that Kilsyth wasn’t for the likes of her. He was an earl and required a lady. Further, she’d overheard his mother the day she visited Pickmore and learned that Kilsyth was associated with the Devils of Dalston. As she was neither a lightskirt, the type of women the Devils preferred, or a lady, the type any of them would marry, there was no place for Eve in Kilsyth’s world. Not that she’d lower herself to be a lightskirt, of course, but it was impossible that she could change the circumstances of her birth and become a lady.

  Of course Kilsyth regretted the kiss and holding her. She only wished she could regret it as well.

  No, not just regret, she wished to forget it, but feared it was one memory she’d hold near and dear, even though it brought the pain of rejection.

  A lesson, perhaps, and one she must hold tight to so that she remembered her place. She was nothing but a ward to Kilsyth and no matter how much it hurt or how much she wished for more, it would never be, and the very reason why she was glad she’d be gone from here in three days.

  Chapter 13

  Several times Henry had considered asking Mrs. Peade to send for Eve so that she could assist him in correspondence or anything else he could think of, but stopped himself. He should have never kissed Eve. No matter how perfect, and how much he desired her, it was not right. He’d shocked her, of that he was certain. Scared her, even, since she’d run away from him as quickly as she could and had not returned.

  She was his ward! What the blazes had he been thinking?

  He wasn’t. That was perfectly clear, but until he could somehow erase his desire, longing and even caring for Eve, he should keep away from her. Their lessons were complete and she’d done marvelously and for the first time, he was actually looking forward to a ball.

  But that wasn’t what was at issue here. Henry had come to care for Eve. Deeply care for her and the problem was, he didn’t know when it had happened, or even how. If anything, he’d always been guarded in his emotions, able to control even the slightest sentimental attachment to anyone. He’d never had time for such an inconvenience, and he certainly didn’t now.

  Tomorrow was his mother’s ball and then he and Eve could get back to…well…however they were going to get on until she reached her majority.

  Perhaps everyone was correct, in that Henry should install Eve in his mother’s home. Out of sight and out of temptation. Though, he wasn’t certain he wanted her so far away. It was only a few streets, of course, but she wouldn’t be here, where he could take care of her.

  “I say, Kilsyth, I’ve not seen Miss Doyle since the races,” Pickmore announced. “Is she well?”

  A full day had passed since she had spoken properly and then walked out of the library. Eve had not even joined him for supper last evening and she was absent from breakfast this morning.

  “Mrs. Peade,” Henry yelled.

  A moment later his housekeeper appeared. “Yes, Lord Kilsyth.”

  “Is Miss Doyle well?”

  The housekeeper blinked at him. “Of course.”

  Henry focused on Pickmore. “You see, she is well.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear.” Pickmore settled back and picked up a newssheet.

  “If that will be all, I must deliver tea to the sitting room.”

  “Yes, of course, go on,” Henry dismissed. “Tell me, Pickmore, did you find lodgings?”

  He set the paper aside and brightened. “Why yes, I did. Not far from here.”

  His gut tightened. Why did it bother him that Pickmore was leaving? They were friends, of course, but with Eve and Pickmore in his house, Henry had come to realize that he had lived a very solitary existence. Even though his closest friends were the Devils of Dalston, it wasn’t as if Henry had spent so much time with them. They all had their work for the Home Office and even though they’d established their notorious reputations years ago, they didn’t spend as much time in each other’s company or at functions and out in society. At least, not like they used to in the early days. He’d become too busy training those who would serve the crown abroad, and then his father and brother had died and the earldom was thrust upon him.

  Having Pickmore and Eve in his home had been a distraction he needed, but now Pickmore would be gone and there was no longer any work to be done with Eve.

  What the blazes was he to do with himself?

  He did still need to bring her around to the idea of spying for him and all of England, a subject that had yet to be broached with Eve. However, the more he thought on the matter, the less Henry wanted to pursue it. He couldn’t put Eve in danger, which is what he’d be doing. The idea had been intriguing before, had potential and solved a problem that the Home Office had been grappling with for some time. However, it would not be his ward who did this work. Perhaps if Henry could be assured of her safety it would be different, but if Eve was ever suspected, or worse, caught relaying information, she would be in danger and thus possibly harmed, and that would never do.

  “I’ll see if Miss Doyle is at home,” his butler’s voice bled in from the foyer.

  Who the blazes was calling on Eve?

  Henry pulled himself from his chair and walked to the entrance to find Mr. Francis Hilliard cooling his heels with a bouquet of freshly cut flowers in his right hand.

  “Ah, Mr. Hilliard, you’ve come to call on Miss Doyle?” While it was Henry’s intention to be welcoming, he was unable to successfully mask the irritation in his tone.

  Mr. Hilliard swallowed, a bit uncomfortably. “Yes, Lord Kilsyth. Should I have sought your permission first?”

  Did this young whelp actually believe he was good enough to court Eve?

  Ridiculous.

  “Of course not. Miss Doyle can make her own decisions on who she wishes to visit.”

  “I hope that she’s recovered her voice,” Hilliard offered anxiously.

  “I believe so,” Henry answered absently.

  Hilliard’s smile grew with anticipation. It reminded him of a child being taken to Gunters for an ice.

  There was very little to recommend Hilliard. From what Henry had surmised, Hilliard had no purpose other than to be ordered about by his mother. Those soft hands probably had never done a day’s work in their life, and that included holding the reins of a horse. He was a dandy, more concerned with his appearance and place in society, and with little substance to his personality.

  Eve would chew him up and spit him out within twenty-four hours if they wed. If Hilliard was in search of a wife, he’d be better served with a simpering, giggling debutant, not someone as magnificent at Eve.

  “Miss Doyle apologizes, Mr. Hilliard, but she is not feeling up to visitors today.”

  The pup deflated right before Henry’s eyes.

  “Would you please give these to her?” Hilliard thrust the flowers out to the butler. “And tell her that I look forward to continuing our acquaintance when she is feeling better.”

  “Of course, Mr. Hilliard.” The butler took the flowers and opened the door for their guest to exit.

  “Good day, Lord Kilsyth.”

  “Yes, good day, Hilliard.”

  “I’ll have a maid put these in
a vase for Miss Doyle,” the butler announced before he disappeared in the direction of the kitchens, leaving Henry to ponder what had just occurred.

  Was Eve not interested in Hilliard courting her or was Mrs. Peade incorrect that Eve was well?

  No, Mrs. Peade would know if Eve was not up to visitors. It was clear that his ward was showing good sense in not encouraging that whelp. After the ball, she’d have more suitable gentlemen wishing to call on her, take her for drives in the park, and all manner of entertainments.

  His stomach unexpectedly knotted at the very idea of another gentleman courting Eve.

  This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For Eve to be courted and settled, then he could continue with his work without interruption.

  Of course it was, Henry lied to himself. However, as she was sure to be a success tomorrow evening, the suitors would no doubt be lining up on his doorstep the following day, and the very reason why Eve should remain in his home. While his mother would be better suited for supervising such visits, Henry was Eve’s guardian and in a better position to determine if any gentleman was worthy of his ward. After all, who knew a gentleman’s reputation better than a Devil of Dalston and what knowledge Henry didn’t already possess could be learned by either him or one of his friends. It was up to Henry to protect Eve from the unsavory.

  Eve glanced at the flowers from Mr. Hilliard. They were lovely with the pinks, lavenders and whites, and she truly was flattered, however, she had no desire to be courted by Hilliard. The only gentleman she wished to receive flowers from was Kilsyth.

  She quickly suppressed her longing. He’d made it very clear after the kiss that he had no wish to further their relationship, which was the very reason why she’d avoided him for nearly two days now. If he’d wished her assistance with his correspondence, Kilsyth would have sent for her, yet he hadn’t, so he clearly wished for there to be nothing further between them. However, she must face him now as they were scheduled to leave for his mother’s ball.