*****
Finn watched Ruby as Miranda collected Cordelia and they left the Music Room. He sauntered over to her, and grew even more alarmed when she didn’t acknowledge his presence. He passed his hand in front of her eyes, and she finally snapped to attention.
“I…I was lost in thought. I…I am sorry, Your Grace,” she said, standing up. She looked up at him. “I…now that the children are gone…I wanted to ask you if you were in jest about the hot chocolate and biscuits being served to guests…or…”
“I wasn’t jesting, Miss Massey. I never jest in relation to talking about the ghosts that roam this house. Most of them are harmless, some will even help. They have been known to set the table for company before. The footmen and butler have walked into the Dining Room and found their jobs completed.”
She gasped. “Surely, surely you are not serious?”
“As I said, Miss Massey, I never jest when it comes to the ghosts in this house,” he said somberly.
“And the ghost that scared the maid the other night?” she asked.
He sighed heavily, turned his back to her, and settled his eyes on the harp. He needed to redirect her attention. “Did you wake to find hot chocolate and biscuits waiting for you this morning, Miss Massey?” Oh, how he wished he could call her Ruby. The name was always on the tip of his tongue.
“I…” she stammered. He didn’t need to turn to look at her to know that her cheeks were a flaming red. “I did.” Her voice was so low, it was almost a whisper.
He smiled. He didn’t think she would have any problem with hearing scratching noises at her door anymore. The ghosts that he had always known and loved had obviously accepted her. They wouldn’t allow her to be frightened anymore, not if they could help it.
“These things happen at Penryn House. I warned you on your first night for a reason. Some cannot handle it. Others find the courage because of the generous wages I pay.”
“Mrs. Teague doesn’t believe in ghosts,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Mrs. Teague is a foolish old woman,” he said dismissively. “I can’t understand how she can reside under this roof, and not believe in the ruddy things. This house—this house is special. The things that happen here—well, you need to be strong to deal with some of them. Did you have a peaceful night last night?”
Silence met him. He turned around to see that she had quietly slipped from the room. She had run from him! He didn’t know whether to be offended or impressed. She certainly was fleet of foot—almost like a fairy.
He groaned when Miranda and Cordelia returned. “Where did Miss Massey go?” Miranda asked.
“I do not know,” he said. “Why don’t you and Cordelia go back up to the nursery, and play there for a little while? We can do the puzzle later,” he said.
“Yes, Uncle,” Miranda said, in her obedient way. She took Cordelia’s hand, and they left the Music Room.
He would have to make it quite clear to Ruby that while she might be quite adept at slipping out during a conversation, it wasn’t polite.
Ruby waited until the two little ladies had walked down all of the steps, and then, while they were on their way to the Music Room, she raced out of her hiding spot and dashed up the steps. Completely out of breath by the time she reached her bedchamber, she took a moment to compose herself. Her thoughts were wild. And she didn’t trust herself to make a sensible decision, so she sat on her bed. She wanted to flee in terror, and yet, she didn’t want to have any regrets. She knew one thing though—she couldn’t trust herself around the Duke.
She had almost called him Phineas back there, even though he looked more like a Finn. She couldn’t continue like this. She could not. They had known each other for a scant few days so why did she bloody well feel as if she had come home? Why did she feel like she was right where she belonged, whenever he came into the room?
It was sheer madness—that is what it was.
“You have to stop running away, Miss Massey. It isn’t polite,” his husky voice gave her a start, and she let out a little gasp. She hadn’t shut her bedchamber door, and he stood silhouetted in the doorway.
“It is what I do best, sir,” she said crisply.
He sighed, “I highly doubt that, Miss Massey.”
She looked away from him. His handsome visage was etched in her memory. His beautiful eyes were at risk of captivating her again. “This isn’t to be borne, Your Grace. This might be your house, but you are about to step into my bedchamber, and that is not befitting a proper gentleman such as yourself.”
“And who said I was a proper gentleman?” he asked, with a roguish grin. Her heart almost flew out of her chest at his brilliant smile. Drat it, he could out charm any of the men she had known back in Wiltshire. Charm was a bloody perfected art form for him. She bet that he could get any proper woman to risk a terrible fall with that twinkle in his eyes, and that rakish grin of his. He was both charming and clever, and that was a damnably dangerous combination.
“You are a duke,” she said breathlessly.
“And you think that automatically makes me a gentlemen? I hate to say it, my dear, but I know a lot of proper bastards who were born into the Peerage, and therefore should be considered gentlemen, even though they assuredly are not.”
“Even if you do not think you are a gentlemen, I was raised to be a lady.”
“I know,” he said, his voice deepening even more. The sultry look in his eyes made her look away. He shouldn’t be here in her bedchamber, and she shouldn’t be sitting on her bed while he looked at her. She jumped up, as if she had been burnt.
“Why are you here, Ruby?” he asked softly. He stepped into the bedchamber and shut the door behind him. She was ruined. He had just ruined her. If anyone else knew he was here, her reputation would be damaged beyond repair. Damnation. And yet, she wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of him being in her room with the door closed.
“I am here because I didn’t want to stay one minute longer in the Music Room,” she said softly, deliberately avoiding his gaze.
“I wasn’t referring to that. They could have used women like you back when we were fighting Napoleon. Your ability to lurk and listen without being detected would have been valued greatly. I wanted to know why you came to Cornwall in the first place. Why did you leave your old life behind? I thought it was because you had been forced out, that you had been put out into the cold, but that isn’t the case is it, Ruby?”
She shook her head.
“Were you running from someone, Ruby?” It seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of hearing her name roll over his tongue, and while she liked hearing him call her by her Christian name, she had to stop it. His familiarity with her had to be halted because she wasn’t his equal. She was his employee, and right now, the lines were becoming so blurred, that she might be tempted to ruin herself just to spend more time with him.
“I think…I think you should call me Miss Massey, Your Grace.”
“I like Ruby much better,” he said softly.
“Well, I do not,” she said crisply. “I prefer Miss Massey.”
“Do you, really?” he asked, taking a step away from the door. She dashed over to the other side of the room to stand by the window. She had to put as much distance between them as was possible.
“Please, sir. You are going to ruin my reputation.”
“I am?” he asked innocently.
“You might not have much regard for it, Your Grace, but I do. I have lived most of my life protecting it. And…and, I didn’t run from one man…” she stopped short, and clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Ah,” he said, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Now I understand. You have run from a man. I hope I have nothing to worry about…I pray he wasn’t a serious contender for your heart. Tell me true—was he a lecherous blackguard?”
She groaned, and turned away from him. “Aye,” she said, staring out the window. “He was the worst.” She turned back to face him, just as she felt him come up behind her. “Please
, Your Grace, you shouldn’t be here.”
“I probably shouldn’t. But I wouldn’t worry about it, Ruby—I like to live dangerously.”
“You think this is living dangerously? I disagree, sir. We being found together in my bedchamber wouldn’t taint your honour. Men are allowed such liberties. Women, like me, anyway, are not. You will turn me into a fallen woman, and I…I cannot risk that.”
“Oh, but I expect you would enjoy it. I would make sure of it.”
She bristled indignantly. “You are a duke—I am a governess. Our worlds…our worlds are separate. I can’t ever be a part of your world again.”
“So…you entertained dukes back in your former life, did you?” he asked softly, his eyes twinkling merrily.
“You are making fun of me,” she said, walking toward him, as anger rolled through her.
“I…I suppose I am. If I had known it would make you dazzle this much, I confess I would have done it sooner. I rather like seeing you all riled up.”
“You, sir, are a blackguard.”
“I thought I was a duke,” he said cheekily.
“Cleverness won’t get you anywhere with me, Your Grace.”
“I rather hoped it would,” he sighed mournfully. “Tell me more about the other dukes who gave you their attention.”
“You still don’t believe me, do you?” she asked softly. Dismay shone in her eyes. He felt wretched.
“I never said I didn’t believe you,” he countered.
“I had two dukes who had their eyes on me…one was an older Scottish gentleman, and the other was much younger, British, and penniless.”
“Penniless? Poor devil. I know what it takes to run an Estate like this, and one can’t do it on dried up coffers.”
“Indeed, they cannot. He was on the hunt for a maiden with great fortune. I am not an heiress, therefore, he could not consider me as a suitable match.”
“Ah…well, your uncle is not a member of the peerage, so I expect you wouldn’t be, even though…we sometimes run in the same circles.”
“Oh, so you think my uncle is beneath you, do you?” she laughed. “He could easily afford to run this drafty old place,” she said, sticking her nose haughtily into the air.
“Is he now? Why, he must be from an old family—or did he make his own way in the world?”
“He is a country squire, cousin to the Earl of…” she caught herself before she damned herself.
“Oh, pray don’t stop, Ruby, dear. Tell me more. To what old family does he belong? Let me guess, he has an Estate that is the talk of Sussex. I suppose people come from miles away to be entertained at his balls, and other social soirees. He is probably the talk of the ton because they think he shouldn’t be as wealthy as he is…as he is not a Peer of the Realm…”
She wanted to slap him. He was acting like a pugnacious cretin. He was acting like a spoiled brat. She wanted to rail against him. But she felt too tired to give him a good fight. Instead, she let out a heavy sigh. He would trick her into giving him what he sought eventually. So, there was only one thing left for her to do. She might as well tell him exactly who her uncle was. That way, she would divulge the information on her own terms. If he wanted to write to her uncle, he could do so…she no longer cared.
“He…my Uncle Thomas, is a Somersby.”
Surprise lit his gaze. He looked quite astonished, and a little paler than he did before. He clumsily stepped backward.
“I…I beg your pardon, Miss Massey. I think I have quite overstayed my welcome. Pray forgive me, pray forgive me. I have been a churl. I have been a blackguard. I have been a rapscallion, and I do hope you can forgive me someday.” He bowed to her, and then, turned around, strode to the door, and left it as quietly as he came.
She couldn’t make much sense of his reaction. How could mentioning her uncle’s family name bring about such a startling change within the Duke? He had looked quite contrite. She thought for one brief moment that he might get down on his knee to beg her forgiveness, whilst kissing the back of her hand.
The Somersbys were an old respected family, but she hadn’t expected the Duke to recognize their name. She felt a swell of pride, and an immense sense of relief. If no one had seen the Duke come and go, her reputation might not be in tatters after all.
She just might be able to continue on here as Lady Miranda and Lady Cordelia’s governess, without the servants gossiping about her.
She sat down on her bed and sighed. Of course, the servants were everywhere in this house. Who was she kidding? They would already know about it, and it would be bandied about below downstairs, as the juiciest bit of gossip they had ever heard. She was a ruined woman.
She, Ruby Massey, had just fallen, and she had fallen hard—in love.
Chapter Eleven
Finn couldn’t believe it.
He felt like a bloody blackguard now. How could he have treated her so ill? He had to focus and collect his rambling thoughts. He suddenly felt as if he was all over the place.
He knew of Thomas Somersby, as they shared a mutual friend. He retreated to the Library, and went over to his mahogany Tantalus. The box housed decanters, and matching glasses. He took the stopper out of the decanter filled with whisky, and poured himself a glass. Sighing, he moved over to sprawl out in his leather chair, and looked at the table that sat next to the chair.
He would have to write to the man and tell him that Ruby was his governess. He would also have to control his desire around her—ruining her, and not marrying her was completely out of the question now.
Ruby had to have left for a reason. He couldn’t see her fleeing her uncle. The man might be a little larger than life, but he wasn’t a hard man to get along with. He was generous with his ample wealth, if at times, a little crude.
“Oh, Ruby, I was so close to claiming you,” he said, taking another sip of his whisky. Books started to fly off the shelves. “You needn’t get testy, Grandmother. I am all too aware that she is not a maiden I should ruin.”
The books stopped flying off the shelves. So, he had deducted correctly. It had been his grandmother that time. This old house had so many bloody ghosts, he had a hard time keeping them all in order.
As he saw it, there were two courses of action he could now execute. He could marry Ruby, and then send a missive to her family, or he could write them first. He rather liked the first option over the latter, as the first one would give him what he wanted so much quicker.
Ah, but there was a third option. He could leave her be, and keep away from her until she trusted him enough to divulge to him her true reasons for leaving her family behind and making an arduous journey to Cornwall, alone. Now that he reflected upon how sheltered her life had been, he wanted to chastise her for throwing caution to the wind, and putting herself into such jeopardy.
She had ridden on the Mail Coach! She had ridden, alone, unchaperoned—didn’t she have no reckoning of what sort of peril she could have found herself in?
He felt indignant about the whole thing, and while it hadn’t affected him before he knew who she was—it affected him now.
“Damnation,” he said, setting his glass aside, he stood up. He couldn’t stay away from Ruby no more than he could cease to breathe air. He had to go back to her, and tell her what a foolish little chit she was. He couldn’t leave things between them as they were now.
Striding to the library door, a footman opened it, and she stood on the threshold, gazing at him with her lovely green eyes. His stomach twisted, and his mind reeled. She always had this curious effect on him. She robbed him of breath and sanity.
He motioned for her to enter the Library, and then, he shut the doors so the footmen were standing outside.
“I want to throw myself upon your mercy,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
Now this was something he hadn’t expected to hear her say. “You do not need do that, Ruby,” he said softly.
“Yes, yes, I do,” she stammered, her cheeks flushed. “I can�
��t…you can’t…pray, don’t write to my uncle.”
He turned around, and retreated further into the Library. “Tell me why I shouldn’t.” He shouldn’t be stringing her along like this, but he couldn’t quite help himself. He wanted to know everything there was about her, and this seemed to be the only way to gain that information.
“My mother cannot know where I am.”
He regarded her steadily. “They might already know. If you left behind anything that could connect you to this place, they might be on their way as we speak.”
“No…I took everything with me. I didn’t leave anything behind that could allow them to figure out where I am. Besides, they won’t have noticed anything is amiss yet—well, probably.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I am supposed to be in London right now, hitting the shops, with one of my friends there.”
“And yet, here you are. The friend will notice that you haven’t arrived, Ruby.”
“Aye, Lady Knightwick will. But it will take them time to communicate with my uncle—and hopefully, they won’t ever be able to find me.”
“You have gone to an awful lot of trouble to lose yourself. Why?”
“My mother planned for me to marry a man I did not desire.” The look of agony that crossed her features, made anger stir within him.
“He wasn’t at all like me, the man you don’t desire, eh? And I suppose he wasn’t one of the dukes who had a fondness for you?”
She coloured up more at his words. “No. It wasn’t one of the dukes. My mother wouldn’t aim that far for me. She wanted to see me live in misery. The man…the man she wanted me to marry…was the Rector in our parish. He was…he was not the sort of man I ever thought I could leg-shackle myself to. He didn’t know how to bathe, and his manners were much to be desired—at least with me they were.”
His Bewitching Jewel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 7) Page 11
