The late earl and his wife had been doting parents and, apart from short visits to other Davenport properties, the children had spent their lives at Chantreys. Diana had become their governess four years’ ago. She had been just eighteen and declared that she did not want to be presented, hating the thought of being paraded around Court and all the required parties, to be gawped at and pitied because she could not walk gracefully. Her parents had been relieved, not only to be spared the cost of a court presentation but also the embarrassment of having to show off their ‘poor little cripple’.
She had met Alex at James and Margaret’s wedding, of course, but a vigorous young man just entering Oxford had given no more than a cursory glance to the eleven-year-old sister of his brother’s bride. Since then Diana had kept out of his way, but she had followed his career and knew his reputation as a fashionable sporting gentleman devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. He was a perfect example of the notorious Arrandale family and nothing like his staid and respectable older brother. Now, sitting beside him in the curricle, she was very aware of the size and power of the man. His shoulders were so broad it was impossible not to bump against him as the vehicle swayed on the uneven carriageway, and he was not even wearing a many-caped greatcoat to add to their width, merely a close-fitting coat that was moulded to his athletic body with barely a crease. His hands, encased in soft kid gloves, guided the team with the ease of a master and the buckskins and top boots he wore could not mask the strength in those long legs.
It was not that he was handsome, she mused, considering the matter. His features were too austere and rugged, the nose slightly crooked, possibly from a blow, and there were tiny scars across his left eyebrow and his chin that were doubtless from some duel. His dark-brown hair was untidy, ruffled by the wind rather than by the hand of a master, and beneath his black brows his eyes, when they rested on her, were hard as slate.
No, thought Diana, as he brought the team to a plunging halt at the main door, he could not be called a handsome man, yet she found him disturbing. Possibly because he was now the earl, and technically her employer, even if her late brother-in-law’s will gave her joint guardianship of Meggie and Florence. There was no doubt he could make life difficult for her, if he so wished. She would have to tread carefully.
‘Can you get down?’ he asked her. ‘I cannot leave the horses.’
‘Of course.’ She jumped out. ‘Take them to the stables and I will fetch Meggie and Florence to the drawing room.’
She thought he might argue and want to continue their discussion indoors but to her relief he drove off without a word and she limped up the steps into the house.
* * *
Word of the new earl’s arrival had preceded her, thanks to his lordship’s groom and she found Mrs Wallace bustling through the hall. She stopped as Diana came in and beamed at her.
‘Ah, Miss Grensham, I have taken the liberty of putting cake and lemonade in the drawing room, and Fingle is even now gone to draw off some ale, since we know that Mr Alex—Lord Davenport, I should say!—is quite partial to a tankard of home-brewed.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Wallace. I will go up to the children.’
‘They are with Nurse now,’ said the housekeeper, chuckling. ‘They was all for dashing out to meet his lordship, so excited were they to hear he was come, but I sent them back upstairs to have their hands and faces washed.’
Smiling, Diana made her way to the top floor, where she found her two charges submitting reluctantly to Nurse’s ministrations.
‘Diana, Diana, Uncle Alex is come!’ cried Meggie, running to meet her.
‘I know, and once you and Florence are ready I shall take you to the drawing room.’ Diana smiled down at Meggie, thinking how much she looked like her mother, with her fair hair and deep-brown eyes. Would Alex see it and take comfort, as she did? A tug on her gown brought her attention to her other little charge. Florence was as dark as Meggie was fair but no less lively, her grey eyes positively twinkling now.
‘Can we still call him Uncle Alex, even if he is now the earl?’
‘Of course we can,’ declared Meggie. ‘He is still my uncle, and you have always called him Uncle Alex. Nothing has changed, has it, Diana?’
Diana merely smiled, but as she accompanied her charges to the drawing room she was very much afraid that everything was about to change.
* * *
The new Lord Davenport was already in the drawing room when they went in, standing with one arm resting on the mantelshelf and gazing moodily into the empty hearth. At the sound of the children’s voices the sombre look fled, he smiled and dropped down on to the sofa, inviting the children to join him. They raced across the room, greeting him with a hug and a kiss upon the cheek. Diana walked forward more slowly, surprised at the change in Alex from autocrat to friendly, approachable uncle. The girls settled themselves on either side of him, chattering non-stop, and she heard Meggie asking him why he had stayed away for so long.
‘I have had a great deal of business to attend,’ he told her. ‘But it was remiss of me not to come and see you, and I beg your pardon.’
‘Diana said you would be busy,’ said Florence. ‘She said you would also be very sad, because Papa Davenport was your brother.’
‘Did you weep?’ Meggie asked him. ‘Florence and I wept when we were told that Mama and Papa had drowned. And Diana did, too.’
‘No, I did not weep,’ he said gravely. ‘But I was very sad.’
‘Diana hugged us and that made us feel better,’ said Meggie. ‘It is a pity you were not here, Uncle Alex, because she could have hugged you, too.’
Diana smothered a laugh with a fit of coughing and turned away, knowing her cheeks would be pink with embarrassment. She might consider the new earl selfish and insensitive, but she was grateful to him for adroitly changing the subject.
‘I think it is time we had some of this delicious cake that Mrs Wallace has made,’ he declared. ‘Perhaps one of you young ladies would cut a slice for me?’
Recovering, Diana moved towards the table to help the girls serve the refreshments. She was relieved that the gentleman showed no signs of wishing to quarrel in front of the girls and she was content to remain silent while he talked to them about how they spent their days and what they had learned in the schoolroom. The children were bright and as eager to learn as Diana was to teach them and she was very happy, once they had finished their refreshments, for Meggie and Florence to take the earl up to the schoolroom and show him their work. Diana remained below. It would do him no harm to enjoy the company of his wards for a while, so she took her tambour frame into the morning room to await their return.
* * *
Lord Davenport came in alone some time later and she could not resist a teasing question.
‘Have they exhausted you?’
‘By no means, but Nurse reminded them that Judd would be waiting in the stable to give them their riding lesson and even I could not compete with that treat.’
‘No, they love their ponies and I can trust Judd to look after them.’
‘You can indeed. He threw me up on my first pony and is devoted to the family.’
His good mood encouraged her to touch on their earlier discussions.
‘You see how happy they are here, my lord.’
Immediately the shutters came down.
‘They might be as happy elsewhere.’
‘In time, perhaps, but not yet.’ She felt at a disadvantage with him standing over her so she put aside her sewing and rose. ‘They are content during the day, but they are still not sleeping well. They have suffered bad dreams and even nightmares since they learned of the shipwreck. Chantreys is their home; they know it and love it. It would be cruel to uproot them now.’
‘I am informed there are very good schools, where they might mix with children of their own age and
rank.’
‘They have that here,’ she replied. ‘They have friends amongst several of the local families and the servants here all go out of their way to look after them. They do not want for company.’
‘But perhaps a broader education might be beneficial. A school would provide masters in all subjects.’
‘Perhaps, but the very best masters are to be found in London and living here we have access to them. There is also much to be learned from the entertainments to be found in town. Their education will not be found lacking, I assure you.’
* * *
Alex felt the frown descending. It was a novel experience to have anyone oppose his will.
‘Do you maintain that you can teach the girls everything they require?’ he demanded.
‘I do. I will not be moved, my lord. Meggie and Florence will remain here.’
There was a calm assurance in her tone that caught him on the raw. Did she think to defy him?
He said softly, ‘What would you wager upon my having you and the children out of the house by the end of the summer?’
That determined little chin lifted defiantly.
‘I never wager upon certainties, my lord, you will not do it—unless you mean to evict us bodily?’
She met his eyes steadily and he realised she had called his bluff. He would not do anything to hurt the girls, but neither would he capitulate that easily.
‘No, I intend that you shall go willingly.’
‘What you intend, Lord Davenport, and what will happen are two very different things.’
His temper flared at her calm defiance.
‘This was always a good marriage for your sister,’ he threw at her. ‘My brother took her despite her lack of fortune. I suppose he kept you on out of charity.’
It was a low blow, unworthy of a gentleman, and Alex regretted the words as soon as they were uttered, but surprisingly she was not crushed by his comment, instead she drew herself up and her eyes flashed with anger.
‘He kept me on because I am an excellent governess!’
Admiration stirred. She was only a slip of a girl, why, she barely came up to his shoulder but she was not afraid to meet his steely glance with one equally determined. There was also a glint of mischief in her eyes when she continued.
‘Margaret was always the beauty, but I had the brains.’
He laughed at that.
‘Very well, Miss Grensham, we will agree—for the moment!—that you are a suitable governess for Meggie and Florence, but this is not a suitable house for them, you must see that. There is only the one staircase, and the building is so small that every time the children left the schoolroom my guests would be bumping into them. It will not do, the girls must leave. You may have the pick of my other properties.’
‘I do not want any of your other properties.’
Alex bent a long, considering look upon Diana. Most people found his stare unnerving, but she merely replied with quiet determination, ‘If you insist, then I shall oppose you, sir.’
Anger stirred again. Did she dare to set up her will against his?
‘You would be ill advised to cross swords with me, Miss Grensham.’
‘I have no wish to cross swords with you, Lord Davenport, but I will not move the children, and since I have your letter, you cannot make me.’ She added, with deliberate provocation, ‘Unless you wish to fight me through the courts?’
* * *
When Alex drove away from Chantreys the spring day was ending and the clear sky left an unpleasant chill. He had failed in his quest and was in no very amiable temper. As the younger son of an earl, with a sharp mind and excellent physique, he was accustomed to succeeding in everything he attempted. His godfather, an East India merchant, had left him a considerable fortune, which had given Alex the independence to pursue his own interests once he had left Oxford. He had thus arrived in town endowed with excellent connections, good birth and considerable wealth, all the attributes he required to do very much as he pleased. He was not used to failure and it irked him.
He could easily purchase another property close to London and leave Diana and the children to live at Chantreys. He knew that this would be the most reasonable course of action, but when he thought of Diana Grensham he did not feel reasonable. Her opposition had woken something in him, some dormant spirit that wanted to engage her in battle. He never enjoyed losing and he certainly had no intention of being beaten by a slip of a girl with hair the colour of autumn leaves.
Chapter Two
Alex was still mulling over his defeat as he drove into town and his mood was not improved by the knowledge that he had promised to attend Almack’s that night. The Dowager Marchioness of Hune had written to tell him she was helping to launch a young friend into the ton and asked for his support. Lady Hune was his great-aunt and one of the few Arrandale relatives who was not pressing him to marry. Also, he was fond of her in a careless sort of way and he had agreed to look in. Well, he would not go back on his word, even if it meant entering the notorious Marriage Mart.
* * *
After a solitary dinner he walked the short distance to King Street, where his mission was soon accomplished. Miss Ellen Tatham was a lively beauty so it was no hardship to stand up with her and once he had done his duty he made his escape and rewarded himself with a visit to a discreet little house off Piccadilly, where he could be sure of more congenial company.
The house was owned by Lady Frances Betsford, a widow and the youngest daughter of an impoverished peer. Despite being an accredited beauty, she had been unable to do better than a mere baronet for a husband. However he had died within twelve months of the ceremony and left his widow with a comfortable competence. She had lived in some style in town for the past five years, moving in all but the highest circles, tolerated by the ladies and sought out by their husbands. Her name had been linked with several prominent society figures in the past and most recently it had been coupled with the new Earl of Davenport.
Alex had known Frances for years. There had been a brief liaison, when he had first arrived in town, and she was keen now to get him back in her bed. Alex was well aware that her renewed interest in him stemmed from his accession to the peerage. That did not overly concern him, he knew his world and viewed it with a cynical eye. Lady Frances wanted to be a countess and she was not ineligible. Her birth was good, she was beautiful, intelligent and no ingénue who would bore him within weeks. That was a definite advantage, he thought as he walked into her crowded drawing room. He watched her as she leaned over Sir Sydney Dunford’s shoulder to advise him on his discard and realised just how little he cared if she shared her favours with other gentlemen. That, too, he thought, was in her favour. Theirs would be a civilised arrangement with no messy emotions to get in the way.
A tall, elegant figure clad in Bath coating and stockinette pantaloons broke away from the crowd and greeted Alex with a languid wave.
‘Well, Alex, have you fixed the summer party for Chantreys?’
‘I’m afraid not, Gervase.’
‘Pity,’ replied Mr Wollerton, shaking his head. ‘Lady Frances will be disappointed.’
‘That can’t be helped—’ Alex broke off as the lady in question approached, hands held out and a smile on her carmined lips.
‘My lord, I had quite given you up.’
He saluted her fingers.
‘I told you I should be late, Frances.’
She gave a soft laugh and slipped her hand through his arm.
‘So you did. Come along and join us. What will you play, Loo? Ombre? Commerce? Or shall we play at piquet, just you and I?’
He looked down into her beautiful smiling face. After Diana Grensham’s obstinate refusal to agree to his plans, the warm invitation in those cerulean eyes was balm to his battered spirits. What could be better t
han an hour or two spent in such agreeable company? It would help put the unsatisfactory visit to Chantreys from his mind.
‘Piquet,’ he decided.
Her smile grew. She moved closer and murmured for his ears only, ‘And afterwards?’
Her full breasts were almost brushing his waistcoat and he could smell her sweet, heady perfume enveloping him. She was voluptuous, desirable and knew how to please a man. The invitation was very tempting, but there was a restlessness in his spirits tonight and he was reluctant to commit himself. He gave an inward shrug. It was very likely that in an hour or so he might feel differently.
He smiled. ‘Let us begin with piquet and see what happens.’
* * *
Alex’s restless mood did not abate and even Lady Frances’s charms could not detain him. Soon after midnight he made his way back to his rented house in Half Moon Street. Piccadilly was busy, as always. Carriages rumbled past him and the flagway was bustling, mostly with gentlemen going to or from some evening entertainment. One or two females were on the streets, gaudily dressed and clearly offering their services to any man with a few coins in his pocket and time to spare. One of the women approached Alex but he waved her away. As she turned and flounced off the flaring light from a flambeau picked out the red glow in her hair. It was garishly unnatural, nothing like Diana Grensham’s glorious autumn tints, that thick auburn hair and her eyes the colour of fresh hazelnuts. A man might gaze upon her for ever without growing tired of the view.
Temptation of a Governess Page 2
