No Regrets

by Mari Carr

  Rubbing his temples, he tried to ward off the onset of a headache. He hadn’t suffered any black days since the night Vee had come into his study, yet he didn’t fool himself into believing those episodes were behind him.

  Since he had revealed his suspicions regarding her previous occupation, Vee embraced her life at Waterplace as a woman who’d received a new lease on life. She was constantly in motion. When she wasn’t teaching Chelsea in the schoolroom, she was in the kitchen with Mrs. Cooke learning the secrets of the elderly lady’s delicious recipes. As it turned out, Vee was a marvelous cook, and she’d begun preparing one dinner a week, often experimenting and creating some of the most delectable things he’d ever tasted.

  She asked Mrs. Henry to teach her how to sew and had begun to make a new dress for Chelsea. She’d taken an active role in decorating the newly renovated rooms and he couldn’t enter a room in the house without noticing many of her special touches. She had an eye for color and material and most of the rooms were considerably brighter and breezier after she’d been there.

  The only room Ben insisted he be allowed to decorate was his own study. He shuddered to think of the bright yellows or vivid pinks she would attempt to talk him into adorning the furniture with. Instead, he settled for darker colors, covering the walls with a deep burgundy, while re-covering the chairs and chaise lounge with crushed velvet of forest green. He’d had his favorite Oriental rug placed in the center of the room. Although Vee bemoaned the fact that his choice of deep colors with the walnut furniture left the room too dark, he was pleased with the finished result and felt the room was quite cozy.

  Leaning back in his leather chair, Ben propped his boots up on his desk and surveyed the study again. It may have taken some time, but the move from London to Dover had clearly been the best decision of his life. Glancing down at his desk, he picked up the message he’d received from his friend Alex McCormick that morning.

  The Earl of Wilshire and his bride had returned from America, and the McCormicks were hosting a small dinner party to celebrate their return. Alex apologized for not calling sooner as they now lived so close, but his daughter had been colicky and, as new parents, he and his wife were exhausted. He also mentioned in his missive that he’d heard about Ben’s ward and governess through the servants’ line and encouraged him to bring both of them as well.

  It was to be an informal affair with only family and close friends, yet Ben was torn between whether or not to attend. It had been nearly a year since he’d seen his friends and, until June when Vee arrived, the months preceding had been the darkest of his life. In addition, he was uncertain how he could explain Vee’s presence in his life to Jack and Alex. Both men knew him as well, if not better than his own twin brother, and it would be difficult to keep the questions surrounding her identity a secret, not to mention his undeniable attraction to her. His friends would call him out if they suspected any impropriety between him and the governess.

  One glance at him with Vee would reveal his true feelings. Somewhere along the line, Ben had quite foolishly fallen in love with her. He’d given up the notion of denying it to himself. He loved her. He, Lord Benjamin Sinclair, son of the Duke of Pelsham, had fallen head over heels in love with a clumsy, cheerful ex-courtesan with amnesia.

  The realization almost made him laugh until reality crashed around him, and he realized there was absolutely no way he could pursue the relationship. Despite the fact her past was a secret, the minute word leaked out that he was courting his governess, the ton’s elite would turn over every stone in an attempt to ferret out his angel’s true identity. He would rather die than see her unpleasant past spread through the gossip mill. It would also leave her open to all kinds of unsavory comments and possibly even propositions. He refused to see her belittled after all she’d done to break free of that life.

  Secondly, titled gentlemen with any honor at all simply did not seduce an employee and despite her refusal to accept pay, for all intents and purposes, she was his employee.

  And lastly, he wasn’t foolish enough to think any woman, even a former prostitute, could truly love a man such as him. In all his time with her, he’d been careful never to mention his previous occupation with Bow Street, and after the night they’d met, he’d never mentioned the war again. How would she feel about working for a killer, a man well-versed in snuffing out the lives of others, a man who couldn’t face thunderstorms without succumbing to fits of insanity?

  Vee was the epitome of all that was good and kind. Yesterday morning, he’d watched her spend twenty minutes trying to capture a small spider that had made its way into the dining room rather than step on it, so that she could set it free in the back garden.

  For that reason, he refused to drag her into his own brutal nightmares. During the last couple of months, he’d nearly succeeded several times in extinguishing the light that shone inside her. How much longer could her sunny nature survive in his presence? She deserved better than him. She deserved a man whose soul was his own, not confined to Hell for all of eternity.

  Ben considered his response to the invitation, when a knock at the door interrupted him.

  “Do you have a minute?” Vee’s soft voice said from the doorway.

  “For you? More than a minute.”

  “It’s about Chelsea.” Vee came into the study and closed the door. “Oh, how I wish you’d let me at least replace those curtains,” she muttered, complaining again about the lack of natural light in the room.

  “I like the curtains.” This conversation was very familiar to them both.

  “Sunlight is good for you.”

  “Who says?”

  “Everyone,” she said with a smirk.

  “Well, then, everyone you know is wrong. Everyone I know thinks candlelight is good for you.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “Just as you made up the sunlight fact?”

  “Forget it, if you are bound and determined to wallow in this dungeon of a room, far be it from me to stop you.”

  “Ah, at last, the concession I’ve been waiting for. Now what is your concern about Chelsea?” He enjoyed their easy banter. He would swear the only illumination good for him in this room was the brightness that radiated from her whenever she was around.

  “I want you to continue her riding lessons.”

  “Has she made some indication that she wants to resume?”

  “No, of course not. She still locks herself away in this house. But it can’t continue.”

  “I agree.” He crossed to the chaise, gesturing for her to join him. “But short of dragging her kicking and screaming across the yard to the stable, I don’t know what we can do. You’ve tried a million different ways to lure her out into the summer sunshine and she’s rebuffed each one. I take it she refused your tea party.” He gestured toward the window where Vee’s fancy table remained empty.

  “Yes, she did, but we can’t give up.”

  “What did you have in mind?” He suspected she had an idea.

  “Mrs. Henry said you received a message this morning from the marquis of Dorset. She said you and he are very good friends from your school days.”

  “Ah,” Ben replied. “Mrs. Henry has been busy spreading stories about me again, I see.”

  “Don’t look so annoyed, Ben. The woman thinks you walk on water. Every comment out of her mouth is yet one more tribute to your greatness. If anyone should be annoyed, it’s me.”

  Ben laughed at Vee’s astute observation. He, too, had noticed his housekeeper’s rather unnerving doggedness on his flawless nature. It was disconcerting to be constantly praised with such devotion. Especially, he thought, when the adoration was truly misplaced.

  “Well, in this instance, Mrs. Henry is correct. I did receive a letter from my friend Alex. I believe I mentioned before that the McCormicks live fairly close by and recently became parents.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I remember you speaking about them. I was wondering if perhaps you could tell Chel
sea that you’ll be calling on your friend to meet his new daughter and that you wanted to take her with you. In fact, I’d like you to insist that she go.”

  “Insist?”

  “Yes,” she repeated more forcefully. “Insist. I’ve watched you and everyone else tiptoe around the child like she’s made of glass. I’ve even caught myself doing it. But I tell you Ben, it’s got to stop. The sooner we begin to treat Chelsea like a normal child, the sooner she will become normal. Children live up to just what adults expect of them and no more.”

  “Interesting hypothesis, but why the change now? As you said, you’ve also been treating her with kid gloves. What happened to change your mind?”

  “I was watching her this morning in the schoolroom when she didn’t know I was there. I’ve been trying for several days now to teach her how to write sentences. I told you last week how I hoped that by learning to form sentences, perhaps she could communicate through her writing since she won’t speak.”

  “I thought you said she was thus far failing to grasp the concept.”

  “That’s what I thought. Every time I attempted to get her to write a sentence she would simply hook together a bunch of words she’s learned. You know, dog cat run hot see. None of her sentences made sense. But I’ve been played for a fool.”

  “A fool?”

  “I was watching her this morning when she didn’t know I was there. She wrote a note to that little doll you gave her a couple of weeks ago. She adores that thing. Never goes anywhere without it.”

  Ben grinned, pleased that Chelsea was so enamored with a toy that he’d given her. “I still fail to see how you’ve been made a fool.”

  “She wrote ‘I love you’ on a tiny slip of paper and slipped it into the pocket of the doll’s apron. I waited until her back was turned and emptied the doll’s pockets. There were five little notes tucked in there. All of them containing perfectly formed sentences.”

  With this, she handed him a stack of small pieces of folded paper. In addition to the “I love you” note, the others said “You are mine,” “Sta with me,” and “I take care of you.” However, it was the last one that bothered Ben the most. “He will hert us.”

  “My God,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she said. “As you see, Chelsea is far brighter than we thought.”

  “And perhaps far more disturbed?” He pointed to the last message. “Who is ‘he,’ do you think? Me?”

  “Oh, no,” she replied. “Not you at all.”

  “How can you be so sure?” He wasn’t convinced. “After all, I seem to be the only ‘he’ she’s been frightened of since she moved here.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She shook her head at him as if she were addressing a child. “I haven’t said anything because I really don’t have any proof other than a feeling, but I think she is referring to Frank.”

  “My head groomsman?”

  “If you recall, she was quite terrified of him when he first arrived.”

  “Yes, that’s true, but she hasn’t laid eyes on the man since.”

  “That’s right. Because after his arrival, she stopped going outside.”

  “No,” Ben replied. “She went outside the very next day. You told me so yourself. I was in my office all day and Chelsea disappeared into the woods again. Clearly if she were petrified of Frank, she wouldn’t have gone out the very next day.”

  “That’s true, but he wasn’t here when she left the house. He didn’t show up until later in the morning. All I know is the riding lessons stopped when he moved into the stable. She adored her pony and your lessons up until that day.”

  “Perhaps the ‘he’ is someone from before she even arrived here.”

  “It’s not.” Vee didn’t mention how many times she’d caught Frank watching her on her morning walks. He’d never spoken to her, but she couldn’t help but feel threatened by his constant staring. It was almost as if he was stalking her, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Ben.

  First of all, she was probably imagining that he was trying to intimidate her and she didn’t want Ben to think she was paranoid. And second, and most frightening of all, she wondered if perhaps Frank had known her before she came here. What if he knew about her past? It would explain his leering looks, but she was determined to keep that part of her past buried.

  Ben said he didn’t mind about what she was before, but she loved Waterplace and had come to think of it as home. She adored Ben, Chelsea and the Henrys. They felt like a family and she couldn’t face the idea of losing them should the truth about her past surface.

  “I’ll admit I was a bit leery of hiring Frank after seeing Chelsea’s initial reaction to him, but the man has been nothing but an upstanding employee. His knowledge of horses is astounding. Besides only this morning, he expressed concern over her silence and offered to continue her riding lessons in hopes of cheering her up. Does this sound like a dangerous man?”

  “Well, no.” She’d hesitated bringing her concerns to Ben at all, wondering if perhaps she wanted Ben to get rid of Prescott, not because of his threat to Chelsea, but because of her uneasiness with him.

  “I didn’t say he threatened to hurt her. I just—”

  “What?”

  “Oh, never mind. I didn’t really come in here to argue about Frank Prescott.” Vee was beginning to feel foolish for her suspicions. She had no proof against the man other than her own troubled feelings. Ben was obviously impressed by the man’s ability and skill with horses. It was time to change the subject. “What I really wanted to discuss is the fact Chelsea knows how to write sentences, but won’t.”

  “Well, that’s not so surprising, is it?” he asked. “She knows how to speak as well and won’t. I told you when I first returned from the war the solicitor I sent to check on Chelsea and her mother insisted she was a vivacious little girl who talked incessantly during the visit.”

  “That’s true, but I hate being deceived. Even if she does understand the concept of writing complete sentences, why hide it? I’m not asking for her secrets.” She leaned back on the chaise, facing Ben. “All I asked for was ‘See Spot run.’”

  “See Spot run?”

  “Oh, forget it.” She felt her anger and frustration bubbling over. She’d been working with Chelsea for weeks and hadn’t made any progress. The child adamantly refused to talk and now she refused to write. How could she teach a child who fought her every step of the way?

  Besides, Ben dismissed her concerns about Prescott with no more than a pat on the head and a condescending “there, there.” His cavalier attitude toward her anxious feelings infuriated her, and she did something she never did, she lost her temper.

  “It’s obvious you don’t care if the girl ever speaks again. Maybe you think it’s only proper children should be seen and not heard. Maybe you’re fine with the current arrangement—both of us out of sight and out of mind while you go play with your horses!”

  “Now just a minute,” he retorted, shock written on his face at her outburst. “You know damn well that’s not true.”

  “Do I?” She stood, pointing her finger at him. “No, I don’t think I do. Now that I think about it, it’s exactly the truth. You’ve been saddled with an orphan and a whore. What better way to escape than to tie them together and send them to the schoolroom all day long!”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice was laced with fury as he rose as well, towering over her in a rage.

  “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about. I’m talking about you spending every minute of daylight outside with those bloody horses, rather than in here with your ward. I’m talking about you avoiding me like I’m some great annoyance!”

  “When have I ever complained about you or Chelsea living in this house?” His ire was now full-blown, matching hers. “When have I ever given you the idea that I didn’t want both of you around me every damn minute of every damn day? How dare you accuse me of such callous treatment!”

  Each word brought him closer unti
l her neck hurt in the attempt to look him in the eye. He spoke the truth. It wasn’t his fault she was proving to be such a bad governess. It wasn’t his fault her memories, no matter how nasty, had not returned to her and Prescott frightened her in a way she couldn’t put into words.

  However, it was his fault that he hadn’t made one overture toward kissing her since that night a month ago in his study when he’d turned her body into a simmering flame that never cooled. She hadn’t had a single decent night’s sleep since then. Not one night passed where she didn’t burn for his kiss, his touch.

  He’d been so resolute about turning her into a proper lady that he seemed to forget she very obviously was not one. She wanted him—badly.

  “Callous treatment?” Her voice trembled with anger. “I’ll tell you what’s callous. Keeping your distance from me as if I have the plague. Refusing to kiss any part of me other than my blasted hand. Allowing me to toss and turn in the bedroom next to yours night after night without coming to hold me. Callous treatment,” she continued hoarsely, tears coursing down her face, “is making me feel the way I feel right now.”

  Shocked, he stared into her eyes and she knew he saw the undisguised desire she’d been feeling since the first moment he’d kissed her.

  Abruptly, he reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “Oh, God, I’m sorry.” Embracing her, he held her so tightly she feared he’d break her. “Vee, I’m so sorry. I want you too, sweetheart. So much it hurts.”

  “Then why have you stayed away?” She pushed back slightly, her blue eyes filled with tears.

  “Because this can’t be.” He planted light kisses on her brow, her eyes, her cheeks.

  “Why?”

  “You deserve so much better than me, love.”

  She laughed scornfully at his words. “Didn’t you get that backwards?”

  “No, I didn’t.” He pulled away from her, desperately trying to put some distance between them. “Vee, I’m a broken man. You know that. You’ve seen it with your own eyes. I can’t give you what you need. What you deserve.”