The Impossible Governess

by Margaret Bennett

  *** Chapter 16 ***

  Upon receiving the summons from the snooty Denton, Georgeanne at first thought that Mrs. Kidd had somehow gotten word of Geoffrey's spanking, but then realized that was impossible. None of the children had left the schoolroom. Since Mrs. Kidd had never requested an interview with her before, she assumed it must concern the children's progress or welfare. A selfish woman and insensitive mother, Mrs. Kidd rarely visited the nursery or schoolroom. And on the one brief occasion when she had exerted herself, the ridiculous woman fawned over the little heir, petting his head and crooning to him while completely ignoring the girls, leaving them anxious and fretful.

  Still, as Mrs. Kidd had never shown any interest before in how the governess was getting along with her brood, Georgeanne did wonder over her employer's sudden interest.

  Thus, upon entering the drawing room, Georgeanne was totally unprepared for the sight of Lord Raynor's lean tall figure, unfurling from of an uncomfortable looking, black chair beside Mrs. Kidd. Her first impulse was to turn and run, except that her legs suddenly felt like jelly. She feared she'd only disgrace herself by falling flat on her face.

  Raynor realized what he had to say was not for the avid ears of Mrs. Kidd. He also noticed how the color had drained from Georgeanne's countenance and took heart from this, for such a reaction meant she was far from indifferent to him. Of course, he reminded himself, it could be because she had formed an abject aversion to him.

  "Is there some place where we may be private, madam?" Raynor asked politely, tearing his eyes away from his beloved.

  With obvious reluctance, Mrs. Kidd roused herself once more to ring for the butler, who answered the call immediately. After receiving his instructions, he held the door for the exalted guest and the governess, his disapproval conveyed by his rigidly straight posture.

  When Georgeanne made no effort to follow Denton out, Raynor took her by the elbow and turned her about to usher her from the room. Docilely, she trod behind the butler to the library.

  Filled with new books from floor to lofty ceiling, the used chamber was situated just across the hall, but even that short of a distance allowed Georgeanne time to gather her wits together. She could hardly credit that he had come. But when common sense exerted itself, she thought of poor little Marissa, who undoubtedly was feeling abandoned once more and, thus, had reverted back to being a miniature termagant. The situation must be pretty desperate for Lord Raynor to have persisted in tracking her down, she concluded, never once guessing that Mrs. Hawkins had aided him in the search.

  Once Denton had withdrawn and closed the door, Raynor still did not release her, but gently swung her about to face him. By now, she had herself well in hand and managed to squarely meet his eyes. What she saw in their blue depths, a tenderness mixed with anxiety, was enough to make her lower her own quickly in confusion.

  "Georgeanne," he began only to be immediately interrupted.

  "It is ‘Miss Forsythe’ to you, my lord," she corrected him with more assurance than she was feeling. She was determined to keep this interview on a proper level from the very start.

  "Miss Forsythe, you must come back."

  "I think not, Lord Raynor," she replied, bristling at his imperious command. "It would hardly be fair of me to desert Mrs. Kidd."

  "Yet, you deserted me," he stated baldly. When she tilted her chin up and gave him a defiant look, he quickly added, "Marissa needs you."

  The mention of the child's name caused an ache in her heart. She had truly missed the little girl and was unable to stop herself from asking, "How is she doing?"

  "Come back with me and find out." When she shook her head, he said, "We have tea together every day and are learning a lot about each other."

  "She really is a delightful child."

  He did not answer but seemed to be struggling with himself before he whispered softly, "I need you, too, Georgeanne."

  She kept her eyes on his cravat, seemingly fascinated by the intricate folds of the stark white linen, all the while holding her breath, waiting. But no declaration of undying love came, no romantic proposal of marriage. Georgeanne could bear it no longer.

  "You are a despicable cad," she said under her breath, then turned on her heel, headed for the door. She heard him call out to her, but ignored him. She had to put distance between the unfeeling lout and herself before she caved in to his wishes, and hurried up the stairs.

  When she reached the upper floor, she heard sounds of pandemonium coming from the schoolroom. Geoffrey was terrorizing the girls again, but Georgeanne was heedless of anything other than her own pain. She raced past the scarred door and on down the hall to her room, a small cubby hole under an eave of the house.

  Once inside with the door shut, she scanned the room and the sparse furnishings. Most of the space was taken up by a narrow iron post bed with a coarse wool coverlet. In one corner stood an old walnut bureau. There the roof line slanted down sharply, the cause of her hitting her head more than once on the ceiling rafters when she'd forgotten to stoop down. On the other wall was a washstand with an attached oval mirror and next to it a small window covered with a drab muslin drape. The room posed such a dramatic contrast to the spacious and comfortable one she occupied at Curzon Street. But this sort of thinking would lead her nowhere, she stoically reminded herself. She was here now.

  After having cried herself to sleep every night since arriving at the Kidds, she didn't think she would ever shed another tear. But they welled up and spilled over despite her efforts to dash them away with the backs of her hands.

  Why had he come? Seeing his handsome face had only served to reopen her wounds. Heaven knew how much she had missed Marissa, and, oh, how her heart ached for that selfish beast. What did he expect of her, anyway? That she would gladly fall into his open arms, grateful for a second chance. Well, he had a thing or two to learn. She had pride.

  "Heaven help me," she cried out in desperation. She was desperately in love with the man.

  She had slept with her pride for one whole lonely week and knew, where Lord Raynor was concerned, she was dangerously close to throwing everything over and accepting his offer, just for the consolation of being near him.

  These self destructive thoughts were interrupted as a commotion erupted out in the hall with doors being methodically opened and closed. Next, she heard Mrs. Ripley's whiny voice.

  "Here now, who are you? Geoffrey boy, get behind me. I don't like the looks of this one with those bushy eyebrows of his."

  That could describe only one man. Immediately Georgeanne checked her tears while frantically darting her eyes about for a place to hide. But there was none, not even a wardrobe, only several pegs on the wall behind the door for her clothes.

  When Lord Raynor swung the door wide, he was rewarded for his diligent search with Georgeanne's tear stained face, standing forlornly in the middle of a ridiculously tiny room, its size no bigger than one of his closets.

  "Here, Missy!" Mrs. Ripley poked her head from around Raynor. "What's the meaning of this? You can't be entertaining no gent in your room, here and now."

  Raynor whipped about and directed one of his infamous scowls at the old nurse, making the woman clasp Baby Nancy closer to her bosom and draw back several steps, with the two older girls falling in behind her. He had paid scant attention to the stocky, dark haired boy standing next to her until he felt a sharp pain to his left shin. With murder in his cold blue eyes, he looked down on the tyke who had so brazenly raced over and kicked him.

  At first, the lad stood his ground, a devilish smile stretched across his round face. But under Raynor's unwavering glower, Geoffrey soon lost his nerve and backed up a step or two.

  "Beat it, brat," growled Raynor under his breath, fast losing patience with the whole crowd, especially since he could hear others hurriedly ascending the stairs.

  Stepping into Georgeanne's bedchamber, he kicked the door shut, leaned back against it and folded his arms across his chest.

  "You leave
me with no choice but this confrontation, Georgeanne," he said, ignoring the noise intruding upon them from the other side of the door.

  "You have no right to do this," she said. She looked close to panic. "You will get me fired!"

  "You have another position waiting, if that is all you want."

  Her green eyes were huge in her white face, giving them a haunted look.

  "I cannot go back," she whispered.

  "Why not?" he probed gently. "I know you love Marissa, and she loves you."

  "Yes," she admitted.

  "Am I the reason?"

  She turned her back to him and stepped up to the tiny window, pulling back the drape to look out over the rooftops and chimneys of other townhouses.

  "It is impossible for me to stay in the same house as you," she said by way of explanation.

  "Why?" asked Raynor, his voice slightly raised in anger.

  When she didn't answer, he said, "Then I will leave, or if you prefer, I will send Marissa and you to one of my estates."

  She hung her head before letting the drape drop back in place and said, "Marissa needs you, my lord."

  The noise in the hall was growing louder with Mrs. Ripley yelling to the butler above the ruckus, "Do something, you stuffy bloke!"

  "Georgeanne, look at me," he said. When she shook her head, he repeated the order with a desperate note in his voice.

  Turning to stare at him, she waited with baited breath for him to continue speaking. Instead, he reached out and gently drew her closer to him.

  "You must marry me, Georgeanne."

  She pulled back from him, hardly believing what she’d heard. There still remained the hurt of his earlier offer, and she hesitated to trust him completely with her already bruised heart. Besides, he had not yet said he loved her.

  "There you go again," she began in a soft, questioning tone, "being impervious, always giving commands." Searching his face, she saw that he was serious and added in a quizzing lilt, "For once in your life, could you ask for something?"

  "I did," he replied with a puzzled look, his dark brows drawn together.

  "Well, do it again," she snapped back. "And could you try to make it sound like a request this time...please?

  "Who would ever believe I would have this much trouble getting a female to accept my proposal?" he commented dryly. When Georgeanne smiled at his words, he gave her another long look. "Georgeanne, my dearest, please do me the great honor of becoming my lady wife? I promise to take good care of you for all the days of my life and make you happy."

  She regarded him suspiciously for his tone sounded unnaturally sweet. But there was no doubt of the vulnerable plea in his eyes. "Oh, my lord, I do love you," she said with a catch in her voice and tears of joy welling up in her eyes. Then, flinging herself against his chest, she confessed, “I've been so miserable, wondering about you and--“

  Her words were ruthlessly cut off as his lordship cupped her chin in one hand and lifted her face to receive his passionate kiss. Both were lost in their own blissful world, aware of only each other. Their euphoria was shattered when Mrs. Kidd's strident voice demanded, "What's the meaning of this?"

  Guiltily Georgeanne sprang away from Raynor and turned to face the irate woman. Raynor, however, retained a firm hold on her with one arm locked securely about her waist.

  "The meaning, madam," he began before Georgeanne could gather her wits to reply, "is that you will need a new governess."

  "That, Lord Raynor, is obvious. I don't care a fig about your rank. And I tell you to your face, I'll never keep your doxy--“

  "Hold your tongue, woman, before I forget I'm a gentleman."

  His voice was deceptively low, but Georgeanne wasn't fooled by his tone. When she looked at Raynor, she actually felt pity for the imprudent dame, so wrathful was his expression.

  "You are addressing my fiancée, my future viscountess," he said, pulling Georgeanne closer to him and starting for the door.

  "Your fiancée!" exclaimed Mrs. Kidd, her mouth gaping open in surprise. She quickly recovered and crooned, "Well, why didn't you say so, my lord? Of course, this changes everything."

  But she was speaking to their backs, for Raynor was not about to have Georgeanne's delicate ears sullied with another vulgar word spoken by the obnoxious woman.

  Once in the coach, nestled comfortably in Raynor's strong arms, Georgeanne peeked up at her rescuer. "Do you truly love me?" she asked a little shyly, causing him to tighten his hold on her.

  "It would seem I have not done a very proper job of convincing you, my dear." With a wicked gleam in his blue eyes, he added, "I think it best to immediately rectify that error right away."

  So putting action to his words, Georgeanne found herself in a most satisfying embrace, one that completely convinced her of Raynor’s heart. A short time later upon reaching Curzon Street, Georgeanne, somewhat breathless and slightly disheveled, descended the steps of the carriage on the arm of her beloved. Ascending the steps, the door flew open and a grinning Marissa barreled down the steps and flung her arms around Georgeanne’s legs. “You kept your promise, Uncle Tony! You brought Georgie home!”

  With tears spilling down her cheeks, Georgeanne hugged the little girl and gazed up at Raynor. Smiling, he reached down and picked up Marissa and pulled Georgeanne to him. “Yes, Marissa, our Georgie is home at last.”

  Other novels available by Margaret Bennett:

  Deadly Lessons

  When one of Lindsey Mitchell’s high school students hides a gun used in the execution of a gang member in her home, she becomes a target of the car theft gang. Police detective Jack Owens, who is assigned to investigate the murder of one of Lindsey’s students, realizes the gang is after something they think she has. He tries to prevent Lindsey from becoming the gang’s next victim.

  Jackson’s Crew

  Jackson Thomas, a.k.a. Jacks, lives in the projects and knows the score. So he convinces his friends to form a crew that helps members to stay out of trouble. When Jacks’s new neighbor Gelo appears, the crew becomes involved keeping Peanut, the smallest of the crew members, from a bullying gangbanger, saving an old lady from a mugging, recovering stolen goods, and finally banishing a project drug dealer. Unusual elements permeate the action whenever Gelo is around, and Jacks wonders if Gelo isn’t some sort of guardian angel.

  The Hopeless Hoyden

  Emily, country bred miss, is a misfit in the haute ton of Regency. When she overhears two men plotting to kill Gabriel, the Viscount Lindemann, she flees for her life, running through the woods, and encounters the Viscount himself. Mistaking him for one of her pursers, she welds a large stick and nearly unmans him.

  Gabriel is forced to attend a house party arranged by his cousins, who are rusticating to avoid their creditors and possibly jail. Gabriel invites Emily to join the house party, which she does with the intent to discover the Viscount’s enemy. When Emily and Gabriel are found in a compromising situation, Gabriel is more than willing to accept an engagement with Emily. She, on the other hand, is mortified, feeling that her hoydenish ways have ensnared the Viscount. Unfortunately, the engagement puts Emily’s life in danger and Gabriel must find the proof he needs to banish his cousins.

  An Independent Lady

  Having never found someone she could love, Amelia is not bothered

  by the fact that society considers her on the shelf--twenty-five and unmarried. But her brother Edward is determined to find her a husband. Once again Amelia attends a house party Edward has arranged with eligible bachelors of the ton. This time an old suitor decides he wants her inheritance.

  The Earl of Wexley first encounters the fiery Amelia when he runs her carriage off the road and recognizes she is his perfect mate. Though he comes to her rescue as a suitor tries to force her in to marriage, Wexley learns this independent lady prefers to handle her own problems.

 

&n
bsp;