Mr. Gardiner and the Governess: A Regency Romance (Clairvoir Castle Romances Book 1)

by Sally Britton

  He had never met a woman like her. And he very much wanted to know more, know everything, about Alice.

  But she had a position to protect, and he would not do anything to alarm her.

  He needed to take things slow.

  With great reluctance, he began to clear away their picnic and turned the conversation back to flowers and bees.

  Alice floated back into the house, up the servants’ stairs, and to her room. Once there, she closed the door behind her and leaned heavily against it. Never in her life had someone paid such pointed attention to her. Not once in her memory had a man looked upon her as though she were more than a curiosity.

  Her family had hinted that she held attraction for the opposite sex, and they had even deemed her a danger to her own daughters due to that fact. But Alice had thought them wrong, or else mistaken in their assessment of her looks.

  For the first time, in Rupert Gardiner’s company, she had felt beautiful.

  Alice went to her desk as she removed her gloves, humming to herself, when she saw a slip of paper that had not been there before. Frowning, she lifted it and turned it over to reveal a note.

  The Duke and Duchess have decided to allow the children to perform this evening, with instruments and recitations. Before they take dinner with their guests, at five o’clock sharp. You are to prepare the duke’s children. - F.

  With less than two hours to prepare herself and her charges, Alice leaped into movement. She took off her peach dress and pulled on the dark blue gown still laying across her bed from when Lady Isabelle had discarded it. She did up the front buttons, grateful for the practical gown, but she had no time to fix her hair.

  She flew out of her room in search of the girls and Lord James. She had to ensure their appropriate dress for the evening and help them choose either a piece to play or a poem to recite that would gratify their parents’ guests.

  If only she’d had more notice. If only they had more time to prepare.

  Would a poor showing of the children mean a reprimand for her?

  She started with Lord James, certain he would be the most difficult of the three to prepare. She knocked upon his door in the children’s part of the hall, and it opened to reveal him and several of the other boys playing at soldiers on the floor of his room.

  “Lord James, you must dress for dinner this evening. There is—”

  “A performance,” he said, interrupting her. His wide grin kept her from feeling any offense. “Josephine told us. I’m to go last. Want to hear my recitation?”

  Alice raised her eyebrows and folded her hands before her. “You already have something prepared?”

  “Yes. I thought I could give Puck’s speech from the end of the play we read last week.”

  "From A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” Alice gaped at him. “Lord James, that would be perfect. I had nearly forgotten you memorized it.” Indeed, he had focused so much of his attention on frogs and catapults of late, his other activities had nearly eclipsed his interest in the mischievous Puck.

  What better way to end an evening of children’s displays than Puck’s monologue?

  “Did Lady Josephine inform your sisters, too?”

  The boy nodded. “They’re getting dressed right now.” He wrinkled his nose. “Why do girls take so long to get dressed?”

  Alice laughed as the last of her nerves dissipated. “It is a mystery, my lord. One you may never untangle. But do lay out your own suit of clothing, so I may check it over, please.”

  “Yes, Miss Sharpe.” He looked over his shoulder. “Come on, fellows. We had better turn ourselves out.” He flashed his grin at Alice. “We’ll be ready soon.” Then he closed the door.

  Alice stepped backward until she leaned against the wall. It seemed she owed Lady Josephine her gratitude. Then she straightened and went to the room shared by Lady Isabelle and Lady Rosalind. She would assist them however she could and ensure neither of them suffered from nerves over their upcoming performance.

  Chapter 14

  Billings did not ask any questions as he helped Rupert dress once more, this time for the children’s recital and the evening meal. But Rupert sensed his valet’s curiosity enough that it amused him to keep silent about his afternoon with Alice.

  Warmth spread through his chest even thinking her name. He had her friendship, which brought about a great deal of satisfaction, but he dearly wanted more.

  Thankfully, he had the entire summer to work upon gaining her affection. Despite their relatively brief acquaintance, he knew she was special. He could feel it in his heart and soul.

  As his valet put the last touch in place, a sapphire stickpin in Rupert’s cravat, he at last broke his silence with his sincere gratitude. “Thank you for your help, Billings. The basket you provided for my walk with Miss Sharpe was excellent.”

  The valet relaxed and stepped back, a smile briefly appearing upon his stoic face. “I am pleased I could be of assistance, sir.”

  Rupert took the conversation a step further. “I take it you approve of Miss Sharpe.”

  Billings appeared thoughtful as he answered. “I approve of anyone who esteems you and your work, sir.”

  With a nod, Rupert surveyed himself one last time in the mirror. “Thank you, Billings. That will do. I doubt I will need anything else this evening. You may spend your time as you will.”

  The valet nodded. “Very good, sir. Thank you.”

  Rupert left the room in high spirits. Word of the children’s performance had reached him, and he had a feeling he would catch another glimpse of Alice that evening because of it.

  He made his way to the music room, and when he entered saw that chairs were filled both with children and their parents alike. The doors to the next room over, a study, were open to allow for more seating. The duke and duchess had added local neighbors to the guest list for the evening.

  He found the duke’s three youngest children with his gaze; they sat in the front row of chairs with their parents and eldest sister. But where, then, would Alice sit? It took him a moment to find her, seated beside three other women dressed in dark clothing. He recognized the governess, Miss Felton, sitting with her customary scowl in place. Alice, sitting beside her in a gown of deep blue, appeared all the lovelier with her contrasting expression of anticipation.

  She caught sight of him at nearly the same moment, and he had the pleasure of watching her smile before she offered the smallest of waves. Rupert inclined his head toward her, then found a seat among the guests.

  If only they had met before she became a governess. Then there would be little to keep him from seeking her out among company.

  Lady Josephine stood after the room had filled, apparently taking on the role of hostess for the evening. She thanked everyone for coming and introduced the first several children who would perform. Rupert sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. His gaze kept drifting to Alice, but every time, he found her watching the children with rapt attention.

  Some of the performances were quite good. The only uncomfortable portion of the evening occurred when one of the baron’s sons attempted to play a complicated piece on the violin.

  Dying cats sounded more musical than the screech of the boy’s bow across the strings. Yet the audience applauded enthusiastically at his attempts.

  When Lady Rosalind and Lady Isabelle played a duet of some complexity, Rupert covertly watched as Alice beamed with true pleasure at their talent.

  Then Lord James stood and began his monolog.

  “If we shadows have offended,

  Think but this, and all is mended,

  That you have but slumber’d here

  While these visions did appear.

  And this weak and idle theme,

  No more yielding but a dream,

  Gentles, do not reprehend:

  if you pardon, we will mend:

  And, as I am an honest Puck,

  If we have unearned luck

  Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,

&nb
sp; We will make amends ere long;

  Else the Puck a liar call;

  So, good night unto you all.

  Give me your hands, if we be friends,

  And Robin shall restore amends.”

  No child could have done Puck as much justice as Lord James, keeping mischief in his eyes the entire recitation, then looking to his ducal father with bright and hopeful eyes.

  The duke applauded with the rest of the company assembled, then stood while still clapping his hands for the performance of all the children. The room followed suit, as all the young performers beamed at one another.

  As the applause died away, His Grace turned to address the company.

  In the quiet just before the duke spoke, a sudden, loud croak filled the silent air.

  Everyone somehow became quieter still, but Rupert had to cover his mouth to avoid a laugh. The duke’s gaze immediately fell to his son beside him, both his eyebrows raised. Rupert glanced at Alice—but rather than appear amused, her face was pale as milk.

  “James,” the duke said, his deep voice rolling over the company. “I think you had better release your prisoner before you make your way to bed.”

  The little boy squirmed and put a hand over his chest pocket, doubtless checking the movement of the frog. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Then the duke chuckled and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. The whole room seemed to release a long-held breath. “My Puck. You did well tonight. As did all the children. Thank you, my young gentlemen and ladies both. You have done your parents great credit this evening. Good night to you all. May the nursery be filled with your peaceful slumber amid pleasant dreams.”

  That pronouncement gave the audience leave to mingle with the children, offering compliments and good nights.

  As people rose from their chairs, Rupert hurried to where the governesses stood, quietly waiting for the moment to take their charges in hand once more.

  Rupert bowed to Alice the moment he drew near enough. “Miss Sharpe, I must say that your students performed beautifully.”

  She blushed and offered him her curtsy. “Thank you, Mr. Gardiner. It was a joy to watch them. As I have only been with the family a fortnight, I cannot take any credit.”

  “But some of the blame for that frog,” Miss Felton muttered to the other governesses, loud enough for Rupert and Alice to hear. The other educators covered their mouths and snickered.

  Alice’s cheeks pinked.

  Rupert’s ire rose, along with a wicked desire to make the ladies uncomfortable as they had done to Alice. “Lord James has shown a great interest in animals this summer. Why, only last month, he had a tame rat he brought about everywhere with him.”

  Miss Felton’s bushy eyebrows rose. “A rat?”

  “Yes. I understand he left it in the last governess’s chambers when she proved unpleasant.” He smiled, likely a little too innocently. “His little pets are usually the means of his childish revenge. He has been trying to catch spiders, too. I think he has some wish to see what would happen if he released them amid company such as this.”

  Miss Felton and the other governesses appeared rather horrified.

  “I have half a mind to help him,” Rupert added.

  “Mr. Gardiner,” Alice said suddenly, stepping forward. “Perhaps you might assist Lord James in returning his frog outdoors, while I help the other children—our guests—to the nursery? He does admire you so.”

  Rupert raised his eyebrows at her, noting the somewhat anxious smile she wore. “Very well. After that, I will see him safely returned to the children’s wing.”

  “Thank you, sir.” As she stepped around him, between the other governesses and he, she lightly touched his hand and he caught one corner of her mouth creeping upward in a smile.

  Rather than watch her go, he searched out Lord James. The duke was speaking to his son in a quiet, stern voice.

  “—after the incident with the other frogs, I thought you knew better than to bring more of the creatures indoors.”

  “But this isn’t a frog, Papa,” the boy said quietly, expression earnest. “It is a toad.”

  The duke appeared momentarily surprised, then he covered a grin with his hand. “Regardless, your animal needs to be outside where it belongs, James. They are not meant to live indoors any more than you are meant to live in a pond.”

  “Your Grace, Lord James.” Rupert bowed to them both. “I wonder if I might assist in returning the creature to its home. I should enjoy a little fresh air before dinner.”

  The duke turned to Rupert with a welcoming smile. “Ah, Gardiner. I am certain my son would appreciate your company.”

  Lord James nodded. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Gardiner.”

  “Before you go on your errand of mercy,” the duke said, placing a hand on Rupert’s shoulder. “You must tell me. Has Miss Sharpe proven an apt colorist? I meant to ask you last evening if you could bring me a sample of her work.”

  “As I have said before, Your Grace, she has a true talent. I am most grateful she has taken the time to help.” Rupert gestured to Lord James. “I know she has used her personal hours to accomplish much, rather than allow her work as a governess to suffer. Tell me, Lord James, what do you think of Miss Sharpe as your governess?”

  If he could do Alice a good turn, Rupert meant to do so. She deserved praise, and to be noticed, for her dedication to the duke’s children.

  Lord James did not disappoint him. “Miss Sharpe is the best governess we’ve had. She isn’t dull at all, and she likes teaching us about things. She is letting me construct a trebuchet, but only after I can memorize King Henry’s speech.”

  The duke appeared interested. “‘Once more into the breech’?”

  His son nodded. “That one. We’re learning about the history of England. Miss Sharpe says Shakespeare didn’t get all the facts right, so we’re reading the play and history books at the same time. She lets me read Henry’s parts.”

  “An intelligent approach to keep a boy’s interest.” The duke ruffled his son’s hair. “It sounds as though you will be well prepared when it is time to go away to school.”

  Lord James grinned. “Yes, Papa.”

  “Off with you, now. Most of your friends have gone. Return the frog—pardon me. The toad.” The duke shared an amused smile with Rupert. “I will see you at dinner shortly, Gardiner.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Rupert bowed, then put his hand on Lord James’s back and guided the boy out of the room.

  “I’m sorry about the toad, Mr. Gardiner.” Lord James put his hand over his coat again. “I didn’t think he’d make such a loud noise.”

  Rupert chuckled. “It is evening, Lord James. Your toad is calling to his fellows, or to his lady.”

  The boy wrinkled his nose. “To his lady? Animals don’t court, Mr. Gardiner.”

  “Who here is the naturalist?” Rupert led them down the stairs. “I assure you, they have their own forms of courtship. Some animals have even more complicated relationships than people.”

  After they released the toad in the kitchen gardens, where Rupert hoped it would prove useful, they went back up to the children’s wing. They arrived to find the corridor empty except for Alice, patiently waiting for her last pupil’s return. She offered the boy a warm smile that Rupert hoped extended to him, too.

  “Lord James. Do you need anything before bed?”

  “No, thank you.” He bowed to her. “Good night, Miss Sharpe.” Then he offered Rupert the same words of departure before slipping into his room.

  Alice looked up at Rupert, her eyes shining with good humor. “That was quite an evening, wasn’t it?” she asked, her voice low in the empty corridor.

  “I enjoyed myself immensely.” He could not help but stare at her, admiring everything from the blonde ringlet curled around her earlobe to a freckle on one cheek.

  How had it happened that he, a man unconcerned with female beauty, could become an admirer of a woman with such speed? It was only natural, he supposed, that wh
en a man found a woman of such talent and intelligence that he must find all aspects of her lovely and becoming.

  She blushed beneath his gaze and took a single step back. “I must turn in as well. I have lessons to plan for tomorrow, and I should like to spend at least an hour on your sketches.”

  “I trust the flowers I sent found you well. I look forward to seeing your work again,” he said. “If you think you have the time—”

  “I do. The duke’s guests leave after the ball in three days.”

  “The ball.” He released a weary sigh. “I had forgotten about it again.” Rupert ran a hand across his forehead and tried not to groan. “I detest balls. Making inane conversation with near strangers. Feigning interest in gowns and gossip.”

  She giggled at him. “I always enjoyed the dancing, though.”

  His hand fell away, and he caught the wistfulness of her smile. “I wish you could come.” The words escaped before he could think them over.

  Her expression grew more solemn, though her smile did not entirely vanish. “Governesses do not go to balls. But I have faith that you will do your best to make the time enjoyable for the other ladies present.”

  He did groan then, in an attempt to be comical and lighten the suddenly heavy air around them. “Must I, Alice? It does not seem fair, when I will spend the entire evening wishing I was studying wasps.”

  “You could always pretend the ladies are insects,” she said, her playful smile returning. “You might spend the evening cataloging them and their behavior, all in the name of science.”

  Rupert chuckled and reached for her hand, quite without meaning to. “You might have something there.” He closed his fingers around hers. “I told Lord James that toads have courtship rituals. Perhaps I will imagine all the ladies as toads.”

  “That would be excessively wicked of you.” Alice looked down at their joined hands, not pulling away, but not offering any encouragement either. “You could at least think them something more pleasant. Rabbits, perhaps. Or hedgehogs.”