The Unconventional Governess

by Jessica Nelson

  “Are you angry?” he asked. He made no attempt to stand.

  “Not at you. At myself. Perhaps my uncle.” She drew a ragged breath. “It is no matter. Tomorrow I will speak to him before Mr. Hodges arrives.”

  “Hodges?” Dominic’s head jerked up in a startling manner.

  “Yes, you remember him?”

  “I know exactly who he is.”

  “There is no need to sound so caustic, sir. Mr. Hodges is an acquaintance who is accompanying me to an soiree tomorrow evening.” Was it her imagination or had Dominic’s shape stiffened? The darkened shadows made it impossible to know for sure.

  “He’s courting you.”

  “Not at all.” She crossed her arms, eyeing him more closely. “I do hope you will not be joining everyone else in their misplaced notions about marriage.”

  “Why are you so against it?”

  “Me?” She put her hand to her heart. “Marriage is a perfectly acceptable endeavor for most, but can you imagine a married doctor?”

  “There are no female physicians in England, that I know of.”

  She detected a thread of amusement in his voice that annoyed her to no end. “Very well, I shall tell you a secret, St. Raven. But if you dare tell...”

  “I would not. You know that.”

  She nodded. “Here it is then—I have been in contact with a renowned physician in Italy. He is my secondary plan.”

  This time she was sure his posture changed. She moved a tad bit to the left, forcing him to follow her with his gaze, forcing his face to move into moonlight. She could sit down, she supposed, but she rather liked being taller than him for once.

  “Italy?” He sounded choked.

  “Yes, they are much more progressive than England regarding females in the medical field. It is simply the next step should my uncle refuse me. Which he won’t,” she added unnecessarily.

  “I suppose I won’t be seeing you again then.”

  She shrugged, an easy, careless movement that belied the sharp pain daggering through her heart. Would she never see him again? After all the time they’d spent together, the secrets they shared, the emotional closeness? She swallowed hard.

  “I am sure we will see each other at least once more.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dominic saw Henrietta sooner than she expected.

  He scanned the room, tension resonating through his body, making his movements tight and quick as he moved past flowing couples, shimmering dresses and obsidian top hats. She was here. He had seen her earlier, talking with a countess whose name he had forgotten.

  Thankfully he had not seen her with Hodges.

  He threaded his way to the wall. Even at an evening soiree, the ton enjoyed dressing their best. He imagined Henrietta’s caramel tresses pulled up, a few curls languishing against her pale, smooth neck. Was she dancing the waltz with someone else?

  The reason he was here, of course.

  He had spent the night tossing and turning, annoyed at the thought of Hodges wooing her into marriage. He did not truly believe she could be wooed, but nevertheless, he did not sleep well.

  There. In a corner surrounded by older people. Henrietta’s face was alight as she spoke, her hands moving with her mouth. She wore a pale green silk dress and her hair was just as he imagined it would be. Grinning, he strode over to join the group.

  “Ah, St. Raven. Good to see you.” Lord Bruckley, an elderly acquaintance who sponsored a society for steam research, shook his hand. “Miss Gordon here has just been sharing some of the advances being made in medical schools on the Continent.”

  “Fascinating.” He eyed her, noting the overly flushed cheeks, the bright eyes and perhaps a tiny line of strain about her mouth. Had her uncle refused her then? “There is a nice breeze on the balcony. Perhaps Miss Gordon is in need of air?”

  Not his finest maneuver. It was abrupt and the surprised expressions of those in the circle showed it, but anything less direct and he was sure Henrietta wouldn’t pick up on it.

  She nodded quickly. “Perhaps some punch. I’m feeling a tad peckish.”

  They made their salutations and he led her to a balcony door. She slid her arm through his, reminding him of her small stature, of how frail she had looked when he first met her. It was no wonder her uncle wanted her safe in London. It was easy to forget her size when dealing with her personality.

  They stepped onto the terrace, which was enclosed by a wrought-iron balcony that overlooked a garden filled with hanging lamps of varying colors. From this vantage point they could see guests wandering the shadowed pathways. No one looked up at them, and due to the positioning of the balcony, he felt alone with her.

  He wasn’t alone, though. The ballroom was right behind them and her reputation would not suffer.

  She pulled her arm from his and looked out over the gardens. “Will you be getting me a drink?”

  “Stay here.” He went quickly to the punch table, the strangest feeling within that she would disappear while he was gone. That he would never see her again. And that just would not do.

  Thankfully she was still on the balcony when he returned. His chest loosened a little. He handed her the punch, which she accepted with an almost smile.

  She stared out at people below. It wasn’t quite dark, but there was a dusky quality to the air, combined with lamplight, and it put her profile in soft repose.

  “I did not expect you here tonight.”

  He leaned on the balcony rail. “You expected Mr. Hodges.”

  She cut her gaze to him. “I came without him. I am not interested in him courting me, and have made it clear to him, but that is not pertinent.”

  “It is to me.” He cleared his throat. “Did you speak to your uncle?”

  “You are prying.”

  “I care about you, Henrietta, and wish to see you happy.”

  “As I already told you, happiness is not my goal. However, I shall be fulfilled when I travel to the Continent. I’ve been corresponding with the well-reputed physician who hired me. He’s finding a residence.”

  “And this is what you want?”

  “I wanted to help Uncle William.” Her eyes flashed at him. “It is unlike you to be so interested in plans that have no bearing on your own life.”

  “Perhaps I wish them to.”

  Her mouth tightened imperceptibly. “What are you saying?”

  His pulled at his cravat. It had shrunk. “I have come to realize, in days past, that Louise and I truly miss your presence.”

  “Is the other governess not adequate?”

  How he longed to take her hands in his, to press them against his chest. But such a touch was unacceptable between them. He gripped the rail instead, fighting for self-control. “This is not about adequacy. Do you not see?”

  “I’m flummoxed, my lord. You followed me out into the garden last night to insult my uncle, and now you are here saying...what? I do not follow.”

  “You shall have a raise,” he said quickly. “Come back, be our governess and you will have more than enough money to practice and learn medicine.”

  “You have already offered this to me,” she said quietly.

  “Reconsider.” He hated that he sounded as if he was begging.

  Her mouth pursed. She looked down at her punch, as though it held answers. His own breathing was shallow. He had not had a seizure for several weeks. He prayed another did not descend. Not now, not during this.

  “Dominic, I...” She lifted her eyes, and in them he saw rare emotion.

  “What are you afraid of?”

  She shook her head. “It is not so simple. I do not desire to be a governess. To be isolated. Neither servantry nor peerage. A governess’s lot is a hard one, fraught with stigma and difficulty. It ends in poverty, very oftentimes.”

  “I wouldn’t let
that happen to you.”

  “But you are asking me to give up my dreams for what? A position that ladies fallen on hard times must resort to?”

  Frustration boiled within him. “Do you feel nothing for us, then?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Of course I do. You are offering me a position, though. A position anyone can do.”

  “Not the way you do, Henrietta.”

  “Hogwash.”

  He took a steadying breath, trying to calm his temper. She had a point. He was not offering anything extraordinary. He simply wanted her in his life. The thought of never seeing her again...it was a vise around his chest, cutting off his air, strangling his lungs.

  He had nothing else to offer.

  But as he looked at her, noting the slim, aquiline nose, the direct eyes, the graceful curve of her fingers around the cup, it came to him that there was indeed something else he could offer. Something infinitely more appealing, something permanent and strong.

  Something that terrified him beyond comprehension.

  If he didn’t have epilepsy, if institutionalization or even death were not right around the corner, then perhaps he would feel differently. Perhaps he would not fear offering such a solution.

  It would get rid of Hodges for good. He felt then a curious twinge of satisfaction at the thought that the man would no longer be able to court Henrietta if she was a taken woman.

  “That smirk on your face is positively frightening,” she remarked, pulling him from his thoughts and back to the present.

  No woman had ever said that to him. He squinted at her, not sure he’d heard correctly.

  “Oh, yes, you heard me. I’m certain that it’s beyond the scope of your imagination to think a woman could ever find you anything but attractive, but there it is. A strange and frightening smirk.” She took a sip of her punch, her eyes never leaving his face. “Would you care to share your thoughts, for I am growing bored and I still have no idea what brought you to this soiree.”

  “Hodges,” he blurted out.

  “Hodges? He is a funny fellow. Harmless.”

  “Yes, well, if he was courting you, I felt I should know. As your friend,” he added.

  “My friend.”

  “Yes. Yes, I suppose you could call me such.”

  She blinked, a flicker of some emotion he could not name passing across her face. “I do not think I’ve ever had a friend.”

  The look on her face paused his next words. Sorrow etched her features.

  “I will be your friend,” he said quietly.

  But she was hardening before his eyes, drawing back.

  Panic filled him. He, the unconscionable flirt in his younger years, emptied of words. Henrietta was different than those in his past. She expected more from him than flattery, gifts. She saw more. He dug within, searching for the right sentence, the one that would make her look at him and never want to leave.

  It was illogical, impractical to do such a silly thing, yet in this moment, he realized it was why he had come tonight.

  “The reason I’m here is because I cannot imagine a life without you present. It has been terrible. Louise cries every day.” He exhaled deeply, realizing suddenly that perhaps he loved Henrietta. He didn’t know for sure, though, as he had never been in love before. “Is there any way you will consider staying?”

  * * *

  Henrietta gripped her punch, wishing to be anywhere but here. The way Dominic gazed at her, imploring, made pain spike through her entire body. She longed to run away from him, from the fear he inspired. She had thought of them every day while with Lady Brandewyne. Memories kept her up at night, hopes and dreams colliding with her new reality.

  They had felt almost like a family.

  Any way? Marriage, love. Those might sway her. But he had not spoken of either, and her goal of working in the medical profession had been with her for too long. Considering another role was contrary to all she’d taught herself to believe. A giant rock of emotion lumped in her throat.

  “You have probably guessed that Uncle William refuses to take me with him,” she said. Strains of music filtered out to the balcony, the muted music of a world she didn’t belong to.

  Dominic nodded. There was a strange wildness to his face, to the contours of his handsome features. She wanted to smooth it away. To assure him that all would be well.

  She could not, of course.

  “This position with the doctor, it is groundbreaking, really. He believes me to be quite educated, which I am.”

  “Don’t go,” Dominic rasped.

  “The ticket has been bought.”

  “So soon?”

  “Uncle William insisted I stay with Lady Brandewyne. I went and bought the ticket shortly thereafter.”

  “He wants you to stay with her? As a companion?”

  “Oh, no, they are planning to marry me off still.”

  “Henrietta.” His voice caught. He moved forward, forcing her to back into the corner of the balcony, into a shadowed triangle. “If I was a healthy man, if I could promise that you would not be stained in the future by my disease, thus harming both you and Louise, I would ask for your hand in marriage.”

  A shocking statement. Her head jerked up; she met his serious look with one of her own. “We could not.”

  “I know.” He groaned, a deep, raw sound that tore at her conscience.

  “It is not due to my reputation,” she said, seeking to alleviate the torture that wrote itself across his features. She had never seen him so distressed. Even though she had also thought of marriage, now that he said so, she realized how very terrifying it was. Chest constricting, she moved toward him, until only an inch or so of space separated them. “I just...and it is so very silly, but I cannot bring myself to cleave to anyone but myself.”

  “Is being alone what you want, then?”

  “No.” She shook her head, yet deep within, yes, that was it. Being alone was far safer. “Your words are most kind, my lord, but we both know that nothing could work out with us. I am far too practical. You are an emotional being, prone to quick smiles and flirtatious words. We are ill-suited.”

  And there was his disease to think of. He mentioned it as being a wall between them. He worried for how it would affect his family’s reputation.

  She did not care about reputation when it came to epilepsy. What kept her away was the knowledge that seizures could kill a man. And Henrietta could never again subject herself to the pain of losing her loved ones.

  Just the thought of Dominic dying while in the thralls of a seizure rocketed her pulse. Could she subject herself to such pain? To add to that, he did not love her. Which was why what he had suggested would never happen.

  “The only other option is if I stay on as governess, but I’m afraid I have no interest in that.” She did her best not to flinch while speaking, to be careful and pragmatic.

  Dominic stepped closer, and now they were chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart. Fanciful, and yet her pulse drummed beneath her skin in an unfamiliar beat. He bent his head close to her hear, his lips grazing the lobe.

  “Are you afraid, Miss Gordon?”

  “Never.” The expected response, though indeed an ice-cold fear flowed like sludge through her veins. If anything ever happened to Dominic, she could not bear the thought. She loved him, she realized suddenly. She loved him so very much that the idea of losing him brought a real and physical pain to her insides.

  No, it was better to be far away from him. To cut ties now.

  “I am deeply terrified,” he whispered in a husky voice that sent prickles down the nape of her neck. Before she knew what he was about, he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her flush against him. “But I am willing to take a chance, I think. If you are.”

  And then his lips were whispering across her cheek, to greet her lips with a tenderness that soon
turned greedy, quick and moist, and she was returning the kiss. She could not stop herself, could not deny the love roaring through her in tumultuous waves that destroyed her inhibitions.

  She curled the fingers of her left hand in his hair, trying to remember not to drop the punch, but his kiss was rendering her fuzzy, incompetent. No doubt he had kissed many women this way. The thought put steel in her spine. She jerked away, her lips swollen and tingling, her anger ignited.

  “I shall not be swayed by your flirtations.” Without thinking, without knowing why and acting in a way she had never tolerated before, she tossed the punch in his face, pushed past him into the ballroom and walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Louise burst into Henrietta’s room the next morning. The door slammed against the wall, startling Henrietta. She turned from her bed, where she’d piled various medical texts in an attempt to decide which ones to leave, and which ones to take.

  “You’re leaving?” Louise’s pointer finger shook.

  Sighing, Henrietta set down the book she’d been flipping through. “Next week.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “But I told you I would be.” Henrietta stood next to the bed, unsure. She’d spent a restless night, hardly able to sleep. Her stomach was sore, as if someone had punched her, and her chest hurt, though as far as she could ascertain, her heart rhythms were normal. She’d tried praying, but all she could utter were pleas for wisdom. Now she did not know whether to go to Louise and hug her, or perhaps just talk. Explain the situation in a rational way. Yes, certainly that would smooth things over. One could not argue with logic.

  “It is the practical thing to do,” she said in a calm, unaffected voice of which she was quite proud.

  “No, it’s not fair.” Louise stomped her foot. “I told them our plan wouldn’t work and they didn’t listen.” She burst into tears.

  “Them? Plan?”

  “You two are supposed to fall passionately in love and marry posthaste.”

  Oh, this would not do at all. Henrietta rushed forward to hug the girl, but she turned and ran out of the rooms. She stared after her, that dreadful ache to her chest returning. Of course a twelve-year-old could not understand. It was unfair to expect her to.