An Unexpected Gentleman

by Laura Beers

  “Have you never ridden a horse before?” the girl asked as she placed her hand on the tree.

  Leading her horse closer to the girl, she replied, “To be honest, I usually ride astride.”

  The girl’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “Like how the men ride?”

  She nodded, adjusting her riding gloves. “It’s much easier.”

  The girl inched closer to her, revealing a sprinkling of freckles on her nose and cheeks. “Are you here to apply for the governess position?”

  Amelia shook her head. “No, I am here to speak to Lord Harrington.”

  “He’s my father.”

  Rubbing her horse’s neck, Amelia asked, “What’s your father like?”

  “He doesn’t like me very much.” The girl lowered her gaze.

  Amelia’s hand stilled, and she crouched next to the girl. “Why do you say that?”

  The girl’s sad eyes came up. “I look like my mother, and he loved her very much. But she is dead now.”

  “I am sorry for your loss,” she murmured. “What’s your name?”

  “Marian.”

  “Well, Marian. My name is Amelia,” she said, rising.

  “Amelia?” she repeated in an excited tone. “Are you here to be my friend?”

  “I would very much like to be your friend, Marian.”

  Marian waved her closer. “Please don’t tell my father that I am outside unescorted. He gets mad when I sneak out of the estate.”

  “Won’t your father notice you are gone?”

  She shook her head. “No, he’s very busy. At least, that’s what he says. I think he’s just very sad.”

  “So, who watches over you?”

  “Mrs. Troxler watches me, but she fell asleep next to my bed. I am supposed to be resting.” Marian put a hand next to her mouth and whispered, “You can’t say anything, though. My father just fired my last governess because he found her lacking, and I don’t want Mrs. Troxler to get fired. I like her. She is a nice maid and offered to care for me until a new governess could be employed.”

  Amelia pursed her lips, finding herself growing more irritated by this Lord Harrington. Bringing her gaze up towards the country home, she extended her hand. “How about I walk you inside?”

  Marian smiled and placed her small hand into Amelia’s own. “You possess an unusual manner of speaking, Miss Amelia.”

  Amelia grinned. “I suppose it is because I am from America.”

  “You came all the way from America?” Marian asked with wide eyes.

  A groomsman approached them as they neared the main door, and Amelia handed off her horse. Smiling down at Marian, she replied, “I did.”

  Walking up to the main door, Amelia knocked loudly as Marian hid behind her skirt. The door opened, and a tall, heavy-set servant answered the door.

  “May I help you?” he asked in an irritated huff.

  “I am here to see Lord Harrington,” she announced.

  The man lifted his brow. “Is this regarding the position of the governess?”

  “No, it is not.” Amelia kept her back rigid and strengthened her resolve under the butler’s scrutiny. “I have an urgent matter to discuss with him.”

  The butler’s frown deepened, and it appeared he wanted to say more but opted to open the door, allowing her entry into the hall. “Do you have a calling card, Miss…” He let his words trail off.

  “No, but you can tell him that my name is Miss Amelia Wright,” she said as she removed her bonnet.

  The butler strode away, and Marian came from behind her. “You made Mr. Blake angry.”

  “Why do you say that?” Amelia asked while looking around the spacious two-level entry hall.

  The ceiling caught her eye first. It was painted with intricate designs which led her eye to the large, arched marbled columns separating several seating spaces. It was elegant and sophisticated, but the mood of the home seemed sad, depressing even.

  The girl tugged at her braid. “It’s all right. I make him angry all the time.”

  Mr. Blake’s voice broke up their conversation. “Lord Harrington will see you now, Miss Wright. Follow me.” His gaze turned towards Marian and softened. “Lady Marian, you are supposed to be resting in the nursery.”

  “Yes, Mr. Blake,” Marian said, turning to give her a secretive smile. She turned to walk up the stairs, but Amelia had no doubt that she wouldn’t go far.

  Following Mr. Blake down an expansive hall, Amelia noticed the portraits grew larger and more ostentatious as they went. At the end of the hall, there was an open door, and the butler stopped and stepped aside, allowing her to enter.

  As soon as she stepped into the room, Amelia saw a man not much older than she, standing behind a large, mahogany desk. Lord Harrington had dark brown hair, long sideburns, and a strong, square jaw. Besides being tall, he had broad shoulders, blue eyes, and was by far the most attractive man she had ever met. For a moment, she forgot about her purpose for being there.

  “Miss Amelia Wright, I presume,” the deep, baritone voice said, drawing her back into the present.

  “You would be correct,” she answered, then, remembering Regency etiquette, she offered Lord Harrington a curtsy and murmured, “my lord.”

  Before she even brought her head back up, he snapped his fingers. “Bring me your references.”

  She gave him a blank look. “References?”

  “Past employers, relatives, things of that nature,” Lord Harrington listed, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “Do you not have any?”

  “I do not,” she replied, “but that is not…”

  He cut her off. “Have you had any schooling?”

  “Yes, I am quite educated.” Amelia noticed the shelves on the opposite side of the room. They were stacked with books, and she desperately wanted to see what was in his collection.

  “Are you from the American colonies?” he asked, his tone critical.

  Reluctantly, she turned her gaze back to him. “I am from Boston.”

  Lord Harrington’s eyes seemed to assess her, scowling. “Are you at least fluent in French or Latin?”

  “I am not, but that has nothing...”

  Lord Harrington sighed in exasperation as he sat down in his chair. “How many instruments can you play?”

  Taking a step closer to the desk, Amelia offered him a polite smile. “As I have attempted to explain, I am not here…”

  “How old are you?” he asked, speaking over her.

  She lifted her chin in the air. “I am twenty-seven.”

  “No marriage prospects, then?” he asked gruffly. “Or has your family come on hard times?”

  Amelia’s eyes widened at his blatant rudeness. “That is none of your concern.”

  Leaning back in his seat, Lord Harrington sighed. “Why are you wasting my time, Miss Smythe?”

  Did he just forget her name? “It is Miss Wright,” she corrected.

  He waved his hand dismissively. “My apologies, Miss.” He lifted his brow. “I am a busy man, and I don’t have time for cheeky American spinsters that have no qualifications to be a governess.”

  Amelia met his gaze, refusing to cower or step back from this bold, irritating man. Not only had she worked hard to be accepted into Harvard Medical school, but she had spent countless hours becoming the top resident in obstetrics. She would not be bullied by this pretentious British lord.

  Squaring her shoulders, she prepared to do battle with this half-wit. “First of all, how dare you talk to me in such a degrading fashion. I came a long way to speak to you, and this is how you thank me?”

  Lord Harrington rose from his chair, his eyes not wavering from her face. “You are in my home, and I will address you in any manner that I see fit.”

  “Now you are just being a ninnyhammer,” she declared, immensely pleased that she remembered that British term correctly.

  He reached down and shifted a few papers around on his desk. “Do you have any sort of decorum, Miss Armstrong?”

>   “Good heavens, you infuriating man!” she exclaimed. “My name is Amelia Wright. Not Miss Smythe. Not Miss Armstrong. Amelia Wright.”

  “Thank you, Miss Wright,” he emphasized. “That is all. You are dismissed.”

  Striding closer to the desk, she put her palms down and leaned closer to him. “You are nothing like what I imagined.”

  “And what exactly did you imagine me to be like?” he asked, giving her an annoyed look.

  “A gentleman.” Amelia removed her hands from the desk and straightened up. His eyes widened, but he did not respond, choosing to stare at her instead. “Good day, my lord,” she drawled, her words dripping with contempt.

  As she exited Lord Harrington’s study, Amelia saw Marian sitting on the ground, her back up against the wall. Her sad, hazel eyes looked up at her. “You aren’t going to be my governess, are you?”

  She crouched down low to be closer to Marian. “I am sorry, sweetie. I truly hope your father finds you a nice governess.”

  “But I wanted you to be my governess.” Marian’s eyes filled with tears. “We were supposed to be friends, and you were going to help my father be happy.”

  For some reason, her heart lurched for this little girl. She had lost her mother, her father was an idiot, and her eyes testified of her loneliness.

  Amelia placed her hand on Marian’s shoulder. “I am staying not far from here at Twickenham Manor. Perhaps in a few days, I can ask your father to let us go on a ride together. Would you like that?” Marian nodded through her teary eyes. “Good.” She rose. “Now, would you please escort me out to the stables? I have no idea where that groomsman put my horse.”

  “The stable is around back.” Marian giggled, as Amelia hoped she would. The delightful sound made her heart rejoice.

  She extended her hand and was pleased when Marian accepted it. Without so much as a glance backwards, the two walked down the hall towards the main door. They didn’t see Lord Harrington watching them go, a bewildered expression on his face.

  Adam, the Earl of Harrington, stood on the other side of the wall as he heard his daughter’s tearful plea to Miss Wright. How was she able to speak to Marian with such ease and with such a teasing lilt in her voice? His daughter barely uttered a word around him. His staff attempted to appease his worry by telling him that she was just a quiet child. But now, she was chatting and giggling with Miss Wright. How was that possible?

  Stepping outside of his study, he saw Miss Wright walking hand in hand with Marian, and they were still chatting merrily. His daughter may have wanted Miss Wright as her governess, but she was wholly unprepared for the job. Besides being an American, she did not speak French, nor did she have a civil tongue. No, his daughter would most definitely be better off without this cheeky American spinster.

  If he was honest with himself, he was surprised that Miss Wright was even in his study. She was an exquisite woman with high cheekbones, dimpled cheeks, and full lips. Although her external loveliness was evident, her true attractiveness was in her eyes. They spoke of wit and intellect, causing him to forget himself and accidentally calling her by the wrong name… twice. How was a woman of such beauty not married?

  Ignoring his reservations, he opened his mouth to call her back. Perhaps he was wrong to dismiss her so quickly.

  “Miss Wright, a word, please,” he called down the hall.

  “No, thank you,” she replied over her shoulder. “I don’t wish to be insulted again.”

  Wait… did she just dismiss him? He was an earl, and she was… an American. He moved down the hall towards her. “I wish to discuss the governess position with you.” There, that should make her happy.

  “Even if I were destitute, living on the side of the road, I still would not work for you, Lord Harrington,” she declared haughtily as Mr. Blake held open the door for them. Even more infuriating was that despite her sharp tone with him, she graciously tipped her head at his butler. “Thank you, Mr. Blake.”

  The butler smiled down at her. “You are welcome, Miss Wright.”

  “Wait!” Lord Harrington exclaimed, following her out the door. “Please, stop.” That was the correct thing to say because Miss Wright stopped, but her back remained rigid, and her head was still held high.

  She slowly turned around, and Marian went with her. “You wish to see me, my lord?” Her sharp words ground in his ears.

  He pressed his lips tightly together. Did this woman possess any decorum? He turned his gaze towards his daughter. “Go inside, Marian. I need to speak to Miss Wright, alone.”

  Marian’s wide, pleading eyes looked up at him. “Please, Father, may Miss Wright be my governess?”

  “Go inside, Marian,” he ordered, his voice rising. “This is none of your concern.”

  Miss Wright’s eyes narrowed at his words, and her lips lowered in disapproval. Crouching down to eye-level with Marian, she continued to hold her hand. “What your father is attempting to say, though he’s failing miserably,” she paused, turning her heated gaze up at him, “is that he needs a moment to apologize to me for his horrifically rude behavior.”

  Marian’s eyes shifted towards him. She brought a hand up alongside her mouth and whispered, “My father doesn’t apologize. He says it is a sign of weakness.”

  Lord Harrington could see Miss Wright tense, and her lips were pressed so tightly together that they turned white. “Is that so?” She brought her hand up and placed it on Marian’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go inside and ask for a biscuit?”

  Marian nodded sadly, and it tore at her father’s heartstrings. Without sparing him a glance, his daughter walked back towards the main door.

  Miss Wright rose and dusted off her skirt as they watched Marian enter the manor. Being conscious that there were prying eyes on them, Lord Harrington gestured away from the house, indicating that they should take a walk.

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “Marian doesn’t normally speak to others.”

  Fingering the strings of the bonnet in her hand, Amelia replied, “She is a beautiful little girl. How old is she?”

  “She just turned eight.” Lord Harrington kept his eyes straight ahead. “My wife passed away after giving birth to Marian, and I found myself wallowing in grief. Whenever I look at Marian, I see my Agnes. They have the same face, the same eyes…” His voice trailed off as he stopped. “I am embarrassed to admit it, but Marian has been barely an afterthought, even after all these years.”

  Miss Wright’s face had softened as he shared his story. “I understand the complexities of grief, Lord Harrington, but I think you are a fool to have wasted these past eight years with your daughter. Time is fleeting, and you never know when a loved one will be taken from you.”

  “You seem to speak from experience,” he observed. “Have you lost someone close to you?”

  She nodded. “My father. He was taken from me in a horrible accident.”

  “A carriage accident?”

  “No, but something similar.”

  He resumed walking. “My condolences for your loss.”

  Giving him a sad smile, she replied, “And I am sorry for your loss as well.”

  “I don’t know why I am telling you all of this.”

  Miss Wright placed her bonnet back on her head and tied the strings loosely around her neck. “I have learned that the more you share a traumatic experience, the less hold it has on your physical and emotional reactions.”

  He cast her a puzzled expression. “Do all Americans speak as freely and as boldly as you?”

  “I suppose so.” Miss Wright smiled at him, revealing a set of perfectly white, straight teeth.

  As they neared the stable, he said, “I overheard you tell Marian that you are staying at Twickenham Manor.”

  “It’s true,” she confirmed but was not forthcoming with any additional information.

  “Are you related to Aunt Nellie?” he prodded.

  “No, I am just visiting her.”

  “For how long?”

&
nbsp; A groom walked Amelia’s chestnut gelding out of the stable and approached them. Harrington stepped out and accepted the reins, dismissing the groomsman. He wanted to finish his conversation with Miss Wright in private.

  She walked up to the horse and started petting its neck. “I intend to only stay for a month.”

  “What if I offered you the position of governess?”

  Amelia shook her head, a wistful expression coming over her. “It would not change. I am needed at home.”

  Lord Harrington cast his eyes towards his estate and said, “I find that I am in the unique position of begging you to stay.”

  She dropped her hand from the horse and faced him. “I did not come here to apply for the governess position.”

  “Then why did you come?” he asked, taking a step closer to her. Why was he so drawn to this woman, this stranger?

  “I was sent by someone who cared about you very much.”

  The sadness in her tone made him think there was more to the story. “Have we met before?”

  She shook her head. “No, this is my first time to your estate.”

  When his eyes met hers, he said, “I will pay you £50 a year to stay on as Marian’s governess.” That should do it, he thought. It was a generous wage, and he had learned that money solved any problem.

  Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say, because Amelia’s eyes turned fiery. “I do not want, nor need, your money, Lord Harrington,” she said dryly as her left hand reached for the reins. “I wish you luck finding a governess, but it won’t be me.”

  Reaching out, he placed his hand on her sleeve. “Wait, don’t go, please.” Immediately, recognizing the impropriety of the situation, he dropped his hand and stepped back. “Perhaps you could spend some time with Marian tomorrow and help me select a suitable governess for her?” He attempted to keep the plea out of his voice, but he found he didn’t want this Miss Wright to simply ride off without a commitment.

  Several emotions played across Amelia’s face. It seemed clear that her resolve was weakening, so he added, “Please teach me how to converse with my daughter as freely as you do.”

  After a long moment, Amelia’s mouth started curling upward, causing him to focus on her lips. “I propose an arrangement of sorts,” she said, her eyes growing mischievous. “I will do as you ask, provided you are willing to have some fun.”