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Compromising Miss Milton

Page 6

by Michelle Styles


  ‘For what? You did tell her that I needed aid. That a man was seriously injured?’

  ‘I told her that you were with a naked man and needed someone to assist you in your endeavour.’

  ‘You did what!’ Daisy was unable to stop her mouth from falling open. A great black hole opened up inside her. She had little doubt that Nella had injected a bit of colour into the tale. But to twist the story in that particular fashion! She could well imagine what Mrs Blandish would have thought. Hopefully Mrs Blandish would recollect that her references were of the highest order and that she had never been involved with impropriety in her life. Her fists clenched, but she resisted the temptation to shake Nella. ‘Lord Ravensworth was clothed.’

  ‘I had to say something to get their attention. They were outside the hotel, on the terrace overlooking the riverbank. Susan was complaining about Lord Edward’s absence and Mama was busy gossiping with Mrs Gough, the vicar’s wife, and another lady. I tried and tried. No one noticed. I simply had to do something dramatic.’ Nella played with the tie of her pinafore. ‘I thought they would understand, but then Susan started screaming and demanding smelling salts. Mama had the severest look on her face and Mrs Gough, well, she puffed herself up like a wet hen. The squawking was frightful.’

  Daisy’s lungs collapsed against her chest. The scene and its outcome were simply too dreadful to contemplate and all too vivid in her imaginings. Nella had to be exaggerating…again. Daisy gazed up at the crack in the ceiling, regaining some semblance of composure. ‘You can see why it is important to tell the truth, Nella. A man’s life depended on the truth.’

  ‘But I did tell the truth.’ Nella gave a mournful sniff. ‘And Mama always says that a man without a jacket, waistcoat and cravat is undressed. You agreed. I remembered that. And undressed is another way of saying naked. So I wasn’t lying despite what you say.’

  Daisy twisted the black stuff of her gown around her fingers. Governesses never engaged in shouting matches with their students. Governesses always maintained rigid self-control. ‘I said might as well be undressed and we were speaking about formal dress at a ball.’

  ‘Oh.’ Nella’s eyes grew round. ‘I do beg your pardon.’

  Daisy walked over to where the basin of water stood and splashed water on her wrists, restoring some equilibrium. How much damage had Nella done with her embellishment? ‘Lord Ravensworth, third Viscount Ravensworth, is the grandson of Lord Charles Ravensworth, the second Viscount Ravensworth.’

  ‘But why was he—?’ Nella stopped, raised herself up on her tiptoes and rocked back and forth. ‘I have heard of Viscount Ravensworth. He is worth a tremendous fortune and unmarried. I am certain he was mentioned in the scandal sheets recently. His name appears quite regularly. He goes to all the best parties. Women keep throwing themselves at him or something.’

  ‘How do you know this, Nella?’

  ‘I know where Mama keeps her secret store of newspapers, which she reads when she thinks no one is looking. One must be up to date on all of society’s news.’

  ‘Never mind who Lord Ravensworth is.’ Daisy wished she could sit down with a tisane to drink and a cold cloth over her eyes. Less than a minute with Nella and everything was beginning to spin out of control again. Her worst fear was confirmed. Lord Ravensworth was a notorious rake of the highest order.

  ‘I would like to meet a man who has made courtesans swoon.’

  ‘You have caused a bit of mischief, young lady.’ Daisy cleared her throat and gave Nella what she hoped was a suitably quelling look. ‘Hopefully you will have learnt a lesson. Luckily, the situation was resolved and I did not delay at the riverbank, waiting for help that never came. And ladies should not worry about what courtesans do.’

  Nella gave a slight nod before sniffing loudly and scrubbing her eyes. ‘Mama wants to see you as soon as you appear. You know I did love you as a governess, Miss Milton. You have been much better than my seven other governesses. Even better than Mademoiselle Le Claire.’

  Daisy closed her eyes and leant back against the wall. Nella’s word echoed round and round in her brain like some ghostly chant. Ice stabbed at her heart. She had done nothing wrong, but Nella’s quick tongue had put her position in danger. Her position and her reputation.

  She could not afford to be without a reference. Not with a score of other women vying for each place. She had worked hard to achieve her success and the salary it commanded. She might not earn the same as a top-drawer finishing governess, but she did well enough to allow Felicity and Kammie some small measure of freedom. And after her stint with the Blandishes was complete, finally she would perhaps have enough in savings to open a proper school in the little village of Hinckley, one which could take a charity pupil or two. Felicity knew of a house that they could rent.

  Silently, Daisy counted up her current savings. Meagre, although it should see her through until she could secure another position, but the dream of being with Felicity and Kammie would have to be postponed yet again. Panicking never solved anything and there was a slim chance that Nella was wrong. Her cases had not greeted her at the door as Louisa Sibson’s had when her affair with Jonathon Ponsby-Smythe had been discovered. She might yet keep the job.

  Yes. Nella was up to her attention-seeking tricks. The tension eased out of Daisy’s neck and shoulders. She would be the mistress of the situation. Mrs Blandish would have to take action about Nella.

  Daisy grabbed a cloth, went over to the basin and wet it. ‘Scrub your face and stop feeling sorry for yourself, Nella. You were the one who was caught out.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Prunella Blandish, telling tales can get you in trouble. I trust you will remember this lesson and there will be no need to repeat it.’ Daisy shook out the folds of her gown. The mud splatters and rents made it impossible for her to wear the gown in public. She would have to take the time to change. And she would wear her grey gown and her Indian brooch, the one her brother had sent her just before he had died. It would set the right tone for a sober and responsible governess, one who could not possibly have shared a kiss with a rake of the first order.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To see your mother and inform her of the truth. You will have to write out a hundred lines for me.’

  Nella screwed up her nose and made a gagging sound.

  ‘In your best handwriting, Nella.’

  ‘And what do I have to write?’ Nella gave a winning smile. ‘How much I love my governess?’

  ‘Telling tales leads to mischief. It will give you something to do rather than sitting here, feeling sorry for yourself. Remember I am still your governess.’

  Nella’s lips curved upwards. ‘I will do that.’

  Daisy resisted the urge to smile back or show any sign of softening. Without discipline, Nella would not learn. And that was what she was here for—to be a governess and not to be anything else at all.

  Chapter Five

  At the drawing-room door, Daisy smoothed the skirt of her grey gown and kept her head high. The brooch at her throat and the light shawl over her shoulders completed the outfit. The absolute picture of a sober hardworking governess, rather than the bedraggled waif she had glimpsed in the mirror earlier, and definitely not someone whom a man would ever embrace.

  After entering the room in a dignified manner, Daisy made a brief curtsy to the assembled throng of women. Her curtsy was neither too deep nor perfunctory, but precisely at the correct height.

  Mrs Blandish was enthroned at the other end of the room, a silver teapot at her side. The remains of two cakes littered her plate and several crumbs had spilt down her ample bosom. Her glance turned ice cold as Daisy rose from the curtsy.

  Silently Daisy went over her savings once again. Whatever happened, she refused to crawl or beg. She would rather starve. If she could leave with dignity and a civil reference, another position would be relatively easy to secure. Five other families had been after her services. She had chosen the Blandishes because the
salary was more than the others.

  ‘Ah, Miss Milton, I see you have returned.’ Mrs Blandish’s purple turban twitched. She set her tea cup down with a distinct clank. The naturally high colour became higher still. ‘How good of you to come and find me. I trust my daughter gave you the correct message.’

  ‘She passed it along, Mrs Blandish.’ Daisy inclined her head. Calm, collected, professional were the words she lived by. Mrs Blandish for all her airs and graces was the granddaughter of a fishmonger. ‘Without embellishment, or so Nella informs me. I believe you were at pains to explain the situation to her.’

  ‘Good. My daughter seems sadly prone to exaggeration since she has come under your care. Not a day goes by without some sort of incident. Today’s little episode was the worst by some way.’

  Daisy’s neck muscles tightened, but she choked back a quick retort. Nothing would be solved by antagonising Mrs Blandish in front of the assembled crowd.

  ‘I am endeavouring to curb the tendency, Mrs Blandish. It would be helpful if she was not encouraged.’ Daisy kept her tones measured. Surely Mrs Blandish had to see the sheer nonsense of Nella’s allegation. ‘Her words are often the subject of much conjecture and gossip, rather than being treated as fantastical imaginings.’

  ‘Fantastical imaginings. Hmm, you do have a point.’ Mrs Blandish took an overly dainty sip from her tea cup. ‘I wish to reach the end of this coil.’

  ‘Coil? Which particular coil of Nella’s are you referring to?’ The back of Daisy’s neck prickled. Silently she offered up a prayer that Mrs Blandish had seen through Nella’s stratagem and had decided to do nothing.

  ‘Are you or are you not permitting my daughter to consort with men of unsavoury reputations? Have you thought what it could do to Miss Blandish’s chances with Lord Edward, if the news gets out that my governess allows my youngest daughter to consort with unknown men? She permits her to wander about the countryside on her own. Goodness knows what sort of ruffians might lurk in the undergrowth.’

  Daisy’s hand clutched the brooch for an instant and drew strength from it. She had survived these sorts of interviews before. She needed to keep her temper and answer the accusations in a calm manner. It was one of the reasons why she had taken the time and trouble to change and redo her hair. Image mattered. She clung to the thought that she had done nothing wrong and that logic would rule the day. She was an experienced governess rather than a novice.

  ‘I sent Nella to get help. I understand that she was not believed. This was unfortunate. A gentleman’s life was in danger.’

  Miss Blandish made a little moue with her mouth. ‘She blurted out some foolish tale about you being in an embrace with a naked man. Mama wished to save your blushes, but you have forced my hand. I refuse to stand by and see Mama abused in such a fashion.’

  The rest of the company gave a tittering laugh. Daisy stood, keeping her face blank and her back ramrod straight. ‘My blushes, Mrs Blandish?’

  ‘We took you on and paid your high wage, Miss Milton, given that your references were of an excellent quality.’ Mrs Blandish gave a tight cough. ‘It simply does not seem to me that this is how well-bred ladies act. I count on you, Miss Milton, to shield my daughter from life’s unpleasantries. One day, Nella will have to take her place in society.’

  Daisy counted to ten, and then ten again. She forced her shoulders down and her head up. ‘Will you allow me to tell my side of the story?’

  Mrs Blandish held up her finger. ‘Was the man without clothes?’

  ‘The gentleman in question was without his jacket and waistcoat. He retained his shirt and trousers.’

  ‘Indeed, and how did you come to discover this person of unknown origin?’

  The sheer awfulness of having to stand there with Mrs Blandish’s gaze becoming more and more narrow swept over Daisy. She was innocent. She had saved Lord Ravensworth’s life. But this woman, the granddaughter of a fishmonger, dared to judge and reprimand her without listening to the full facts. And there was little she could say in her defence without jeopardising her position. They must never discover that Lord Ravensworth had brushed his lips against hers.

  ‘If you will allow me to explain…in private.’

  ‘You do leave me with little choice, Miss Milton.’ Mrs Blandish’s turban quivered so violently that it threatened to slip off her head.

  Daisy’s stomach clenched. She had misread the situation. She would be dismissed without a reference. Silently she offered up a prayer. ‘All I did was my duty, Mrs Blandish.’

  The door crashed open.

  ‘Forgive the intrusion, my dear ladies!’

  ‘Lord Edward, how good of you to join us.’ Mrs Blandish immediately became all smiles as Miss Blandish hurriedly bit her lips and pinched her pale cheeks. ‘I trust you have discovered your friend, and he has suffered no lasting injury.’

  ‘My friend has been found. He is resting at present.’ Lord Edward made a flourishing gesture. ‘It is a weight off my mind.’

  ‘Do please stop and have a cup of tea with us.’ Miss Blandish gave a rather unattractive snorting laugh, batted her lashes and began to simper. ‘You must have time, if your friend is otherwise occupied. We are all agog to hear what happened.’

  ‘Miss Milton, you may retire.’ Mrs Blandish waved her fan, signalling to the footman for another cup. ‘I will accede to your request to discuss the matter in private, after my guests depart.’

  ‘As you wish…’ Daisy made the barest of curtsies. Her mind raced. She would pack everything and leave instructions with the butler for her trunk to be sent on once she had secured lodgings. It was the only sensible course of action. Silently she cursed her decision to become a governess with the Blandishes. Six years of hard work gone because she had saved a man’s life. ‘I will go and see if Nella has finished her lines.’

  ‘You set Nella’s lines? How clever of you.’ Miss Blandish clapped her hands. She fluttered her lashes at Lord Edward. ‘My sister does need discipline. You know what she is like, Lord Edward. Always telling the most outlandish stories about me.’

  Daisy fought against the temptation to make a cutting remark. Such a thing was beneath her.

  ‘Forgive me, ma’am, but I believe your governess is the lady I am searching for. She cannot leave yet.’ Lord Edward turned towards Daisy. His swept-back blonde hair gave him the appearance of the consummate gentleman, but there was something hungry in his eyes, something that remind her of the searchers on the riverbank. Daisy blinked and the look was gone. ‘Tales of your heroism have reached my ears and I have come to offer my heartfelt appreciation. If our new queen possesses one-tenth of Miss Milton’s bravery, I predict we are on the brink of a truly momentous age.’

  Daisy stared at Lord Edward. There could be no doubting who his friend was. Between Lord Ravensworth and Nella, soon she would not have a shred of her reputation left. What had Lord Ravensworth told his friend?

  ‘Her heroism? Her bravery?’ Miss Blandish squeaked; her tiny mouth opened and closed like a cod’s.

  ‘Pray tell, Lord Edward, what has my governess done that is deserving of such praise?’

  ‘She rescued my dear friend, Adam Ravensworth, the third Viscount Ravensworth.’

  ‘Mama, a viscount, a proper eligible viscount, here in Gilsland,’ Miss Blandish said in a hoarse whisper.

  ‘But what happened? Why did he go missing?’ Mrs Blandish gestured with her fan. ‘I had no idea Viscount Ravensworth was in Gilsland Spa. He has yet to register at the circulating library.’

  ‘He had been attacked and escaped by diving into the River Irthing. He was more dead than alive when your governess found him.’ Lord Edward gave his head a slow shake. ‘Whatever is this country coming to when people are attacked in their own carriages?’

  The gathered throng let out gasps of astonishment and murmurs of condemnation against the thieves as the tale continued. Finally, following Lord Edward’s recounting of the tale, they broke out in a round of applause. One or two of the l
adies sighed.

  ‘I salute you, Miss Milton.’ He captured her hand and raised it to his cold lips. Daisy fought the urge to snatch it away.

  ‘You should have said something, Miss Milton,’ Mrs Blandish said. ‘I had no idea that you were rescuing a friend of Lord Edward’s and a viscount at that. It puts the matter into an entirely different complexion. How very resourceful of you.’

  ‘Nella was sent with a message, but unfortunately her vivid imagination embroidered the details. Hopefully soon she will learn to keep her embroidery to her needlework.’

  ‘Embroider. Needlework. That is very good, Miss Milton. Lord Ravensworth never said that you had a wit.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Milton is such a clever governess,’ Miss Blandish said, fluttering her lashes.

  Daisy kept her voice even and her face bland as her insides churned. Now that Lord Edward had proclaimed her a heroine, her position in the household was secure. ‘How is Lord Ravensworth?’

  ‘His usual charming self.’ Lord Edward gave a languid wave, but his eyes narrowed. ‘How did you come to find him, Miss Milton?’

  Miss Blandish tapped Lord Edward on the arm with her fan. ‘It was my sister who found him. Nella said that quite clearly. Miss Milton, it was too bad of you not to tell Nella the man in question was a friend of Lord Edward’s and a viscount in his own right. If I had realised that, I would have endeavoured to run all the way there myself and assist you in the rescue.’

  ‘How noble of you, my dear Miss Blandish,’ Lord Edward said. ‘Perhaps I might be permitted to take you on a stroll tomorrow morning and we can discuss it in greater detail.’

  Miss Blandish hid her face behind her fan and gave her simpering assent.

  ‘I have never believed that the worthiness of being rescued was dependent on one’s forebears.’ Daisy squared her shoulders and kept her gaze on the bookcase. The particular pair deserved each other.

 

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