‘It is to be regretted,’ Lord Ravensworth murmured and his eyes deepened to caramel as if he too remembered the kiss they had shared.
Daisy straightened her shoulders as the air crackled between the two men. ‘If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I will need to return to Nella.’
‘The girl who nearly caused you to be dismissed?’ Lord Ravensworth raised an eyebrow and his lips twisted into an ironic smile. ‘Yes, I can see why you might need to see her.’
Daisy inclined her head, keeping her annoyed expression from view. The man was truly insupportable. He had not wished to see her, despite Lord Edward’s polite fable. He probably would have been quite content to see her dismissed without a good reference. It irked that her heart had leapt at the chance.
‘Thanks to Lord Edward, Mrs Blandish is now aware of the precise circumstances.’
‘You are now the heroine of the hour, instead of merely being an evil influence on her daughter,’ Lord Ravensworth observed.
‘You do have a way with words, Lord Ravensworth, but, yes.’
‘Speaking my mind is one of the privileges of my rank, Miss Milton.’
‘I suspect you would speak it even if you had been born a pauper.’
‘You are definitely a bad influence, Miss Milton, for I cannot tell a lie with you in earshot. Guilty as charged.’ A dimple flashed in his cheek, transforming his face, making it heart-stoppingly handsome. ‘But now that you have arrived bearing…gifts, I have a job offer to make.’
‘I am already in employment,’ Daisy replied carefully as her mouth grew dry. A notorious rake offering honest employment? He must assume that she was completely naïve. She knew the sort of offers rakes made. It was why she took pains with her dress—to show that she was a governess, first, last and foremost.
‘The doctor informs me that I will need a nurse for a few months while I recuperate. I can think of no one better,’ Lord Ravensworth said and his voice became like heavy silk sliding over her skin. ‘You know of my faults and your conversation is more amusing than most. Should you wish the position, it is yours. I will pay half as much again as your present employer.’
‘Lord Ravensworth!’ Daisy stared at him in astonishment. If she went to work for him, she might as well forget about ever being a governess in England again. She could well imagine how the interviews would go if he gave her a reference. The slight tutting and then the news the post had been filled. ‘You are unmarried!’
‘Double what Mrs Blandish is paying you. You drive a hard bargain.’ His eyes were molten gold with flecks of amber, eyes that Daisy knew she’d dream about for months to come, eyes that silently urged her to say—yes. ‘It should be more than sufficient to make you swallow your principles about being employed by an unmarried man.’
‘Without my principles, I am nothing.’ Daisy clasped her hands in front of her and concentrated on breathing rather than on his velvet voice. ‘I am a governess, not a nurse. There is a great deal of difference. Therefore, I must refuse, Lord Ravensworth, and urge you to seek a suitable person for your needs.’
His eyes widened with surprise. Daisy wondered if any woman had ever told Lord Ravensworth no before.
‘Surely you cannot enjoy looking after children,’ he said. ‘Schoolrooms are worse than prisons. You are alone most of the time without friends or companions beyond ungrateful wretches who do not want you to be there in the first place.’
The retort died on her lips. Had her loathing of her current job shown that clearly on the journey to the hotel? Normally she enjoyed teaching her pupils, if they were receptive. Nella was a challenge, but one which she was determined to conquer.
‘I would have hardly become a governess if I hated children.’
‘You love reading poetry over and over again until the very lines that fired your blood becomes as dull as ditch water.’
‘Poetry is far from dull. With the greatest respect, Lord Ravensworth, you are a philistine.’
‘Did I say poetry is dull?’ A tiny smile played on his features. ‘Merely the repetition. And children by their very nature are philistines. Deny that if you will. I therefore am like a child in need of instruction.’
Daisy gritted her teeth and longed to wipe the smug expression from his face. ‘And this is leading where?’
‘I thought you would have relished the opportunity to reform me. And turn me into someone who is not a philistine.’
‘You, Lord Ravensworth, would be my worst nightmare.’
Lord Ravensworth stopped, one finger in the air as he searched for a quick riposte and appeared to reject several without speaking.
Daisy inclined her head. ‘The point is mine, Lord Ravensworth.’
‘Wonderful.’ Lord Edward’s voice rang out. ‘Miss Milton has you there, Ravensworth. A rapier-sharp wit indeed. You neglected to mention that facet of your rescuer. I see she is a jewel that I overlooked. Perhaps I can persuade her to come to London.’
‘Miss Milton has many talents, but I doubt she would make best use of them in London,’ Lord Ravensworth remarked, regarding her with an unfathomable expression.
‘They should be put to better use,’ Lord Edward said, clearing his throat. ‘The younger Miss Blandish is an acquired taste.’
‘You saved my life this morning, Miss Milton. I take that into consideration. You have had a busy day and are no doubt fatigued,’ Lord Ravensworth pronounced, waving his hand. ‘The position will remain open until you have time to properly consider my offer and its consequences for your future.’
‘Is my life in danger?’ Daisy shook her head. Arrogance, pure arrogance. As if she was some sort of empty-headed female who jumped simply because he said to in a low seductive voice. Become a nurse indeed! It was one step away from being his mistress. A warm tingle went down her spine. Was that what he intended? A sudden vision of his limbs entwined with hers entered her head, refusing to leave. Her cheeks flamed. How would Felicity and Kammie cope if she became a fallen woman?
‘Your life is in danger of being kept in aspic.’ Lord Ravensworth’s honeyed voice curled around her insides, enticed her to do his bidding. ‘I can free you from that, Miss Milton.’
‘We must agree to differ, then.’ Daisy clung to her sanity with her fingernails. Something deep inside her wanted to say, yes, yes, and to grab life with both hands, but she knew it was madness. She had responsibilities, but she was beholden to no man. Felicity’s dreadful marriage had shown her what men could be like. ‘I am no prisoner in the schoolroom.’
‘Your name is connected with my rescue, Miss Milton.’
‘I fear your fall has affected your brain, Lord Ravensworth. Lord Edward explained the situation to the Blandishes and all is well.’ She drew a deep breath and regained control of her thoughts. ‘I regret that I must refuse your kind offer and you must look elsewhere for a nurse.’
Lord Ravensworth’s brow darkened and his eyes shot fire, but Daisy found it impossible to stare anywhere except at his mouth. The memory of it on hers assaulted her, made her lips ache. ‘And the offer remains open.’
‘I will keep that under consideration.’ Daisy lifted her parasol. Her life was going to return to normal. She knew her goals and she would keep to them. Lord Ravensworth would not distract her. She belonged to no man. Never would. And yet a pang shot through her. These would be the last words she spoke to him. ‘Good day to both you gentlemen.’
‘Miss Milton, I look forward to making Mrs Blandish’s acquaintance.’ He paused and his whole being radiated mischief. ‘And that of her very charming daughter.’
Chapter Six
‘Why did you bring Miss Milton here, Heritage?’ Adam stood in the centre of his sitting room at Shaw’s. The interview had gone badly. But Miss Milton had not seen the last of him. Refuse his job offer, indeed! He’d attend to that.
The necklace was the difficulty. All it would have taken was a slight flick of his wrist to remove it from the basket when they had parted, but he had forgotten. He had been too int
ent on trying not to kiss her again. And now Heritage had made the situation worse.
After their recent confrontation, he could hardly ask Miss Milton for her basket or explain what was in it. No doubt she would return the necklace when she found it. Miss Milton was that sort of person. However, the prospect filled him with no cheer. Whoever wanted it was prepared to kill for it, and the necklace needed to reappear at the time of his choosing and not before.
Adam rolled his shoulders, noting how they protested. There was something else that nagged him. Heritage was not known for being altruistic. Why had he gone in search of Miss Milton? And why bring her as if she was some sort of trophy? He hated that his mind was proving sluggish.
Adam’s fingers probed the lump on his head. This was all about the mistakes he had made and one day his mistakes would kill him.
‘I never asked to see her,’ Adam continued. ‘You have complicated matters.’
‘You very nearly ruined a governess without even kissing her.’ Heritage gave a braying laugh. ‘It was a close-run thing. A few more moments and her cases would have been piled at the door. And prickly Miss Milton would have been gone for good.’
‘But why did you think I should care about her future?’ Adam undid his stock with impatient fingers. Heritage made a good point. He had made a fundamental error when he had left Miss Milton. He had forgotten about her charge and, instead of protecting her, had very nearly doomed her. Heritage was correct. He should have insisted on having Miss Milton accompany him to the hotel; such a little thing with nearly such disastrous consequences for the woman.
‘You expressed a desire to make sure she was safe.’ Heritage gave a languid shrug. ‘You clutched at the doctor’s arm and demanded to know that the governess had been unharmed and unmolested.’
‘I have no memory of that.’
‘You have a lump the size of a goose egg on your head. Stands to reason.’
Adam frowned. ‘Did Miss Milton make any comment about my health on your return journey?’
‘She thinks you are overdoing it. She saw no reason for an escort either. She was at a loss as to why you should insist on one.’ Heritage widened his eyes and settled into a chair in Adam’s suite of rooms. He reached out and took an apple from the fruit basket that the innkeeper had provided.
‘If Miss Milton is going to make remarks about my health, then she softens. In time, she will accept my offer.’
‘Was it bona fide?’
‘What do you take me for? A cad? I never joke about job offers to governesses.’ Adam shrugged out of his frock coat. ‘Tell me about the Blandishes. After all, it was the daughter who alerted Miss Milton to me. Perhaps you should have brought the child as well. I am concerned about the child’s welfare.’
Heritage gave an involuntary shudder. ‘Ghastly upstarts, particularly the mother, but possessed of rather a large fortune in funds and coal. We shall have to see what transpires from that quarter. Getting a wife with her own fortune would go a long way towards convincing my great-uncle that I intend to settle down.’
Adam lowered his body gingerly down on to the sofa. His muscles groaned slightly, but eventually relaxed into the cushions. He stifled a yawn and prepared his mind for another recital of Heritage’s woes. Even in India, Heritage had been obsessed with Heritage. ‘Your great-uncle will understand the necessity of having the appropriate wife, one with accomplishments and who will be at ease in society.’
‘Oh, the elder Miss Blandish is presentable enough, if one likes that sort of thing. All blonde with too many teeth.’ A smug smile played on Heritage’s face. ‘She desires the cachet of an earl’s son. We both know what we are on about. There is little real feeling on either side. As long as she has a title, she will not ask too many questions.’
Adam listened with half an ear. He had little desire to hear of Heritage’s matrimonial pursuits. But the necessity of a wealthy bride did not surprise him; Heritage’s reputation was that of someone who enjoyed the high life without wishing to pay for it. ‘One does what one must.’
‘I wish I had paid more attention to the governess before now, though.’ Heritage twirled the apple core. ‘Never even thought to learn her name. She was simply Miss Nella’s governess.’
‘Why?’ Adam sat up, every nerve suddenly awake and his pain forgotten. Last year, Heritage had achieved a certain notoriety for seducing servant girls. Not that he thought Miss Milton would allow him the liberties, but…she ought to be protected from men like Heritage, and himself, if he was being truthful. Adam knew he’d be bad for her. Women like her deserved marriage to staid sensible men, not to be involved with rakes who had no intention of marrying. ‘Trust me on this—it is never good form to seduce the governess of your intended’s younger sister.’
‘Miss Milton’s brother was in India. Tom Milton, or I suppose Thomas Milton. You might remember him, a factor from the East India Company.’
All the air left Adam’s lungs as Heritage’s words slammed into him. Thomas Milton. Tom to his friends. Tom Milton, who was in the end twice the man Adam ever could have been and was far more worthy of Kamala’s love. He should have asked or at least suspected once Miss Milton had given her name. But it was a common enough name. Miss Daisy Milton was Tom Milton’s sister. And he owed Tom a debt that he could never repay.
‘I know the man you mean. He was at the hill station with me.’
Adam half-closed his eyes and Tom’s face rose in front of him. He had had the same determined chin and eyes as Miss Milton. Not a warning, his apparition on the riverbank, but a reminder of a past failure. Had fate given him a second chance? He rolled his eyes upwards. Would fate ever be that generous? He had spent seven years regretting his actions. He could clearly remember the maharajah’s sword at his throat, thinking it was his last moment on earth when Milton had appeared, dishevelled but resolute. Milton had dispatched the maharajah with several blows. Then calmly, as if they were at some club, Milton had bent and retrieved a small pouch of jewels from the maharajah’s belt, explaining that he differed with the maharajah’s notions of hospitality. Adam forced the door of his memory closed. ‘He was useful in a tight spot. I always considered that he should have been a soldier, rather than a bean counter.’
Heritage bit into another apple, greedily devouring it. ‘He died of brain fever, according to Miss Milton. Shortly after his wife died. Probably lost the will to live.’
Milton’s wife. Kamala. She could have been his, if he had not been foolish and arrogant. Adam winced. Even now the wound to his soul was not fully healed. He remembered how, with a bloodied hand and a steely gaze, Tom had plucked the necklace from Kamala and handed it to Adam. And Adam had known in a blaze of honesty what he had done. How he had sacrificed Kamala for false wealth. He should have grabbed her and run that first morning when the monkeys had chattered all about them. Or when she had confessed about the child she carried, his child. But the knowledge of Adam’s love for her had come all too late. By the time he had returned, Milton had saved her and had won her.
‘It was a waste of a life,’ Adam said quietly.
‘Ah, I remember now. I heard he’s the one who plucked a king’s ransom in uncut rubies from the maharajah’s corpse. I wonder whatever happened to them.’ Heritage closed his eyes. ‘I can remember those Indian fellows, the ones I had to guard, cursing his name and swearing vengeance from beyond the grave. The leader was the worse, a regular mad dog with his snarling about revenge and the need for blood.’
Adam closed his eyes and cursed. He had made another mistake. The basket was now very dangerous indeed if the wrong people discovered the connection. If it was the thuggee that were after him, then they would seek vengeance for what her brother had done. And would they believe that no governess could possess a fortune in jewels?
‘Have you ever seen a governess dripping in jewels?’
‘Certainly not working for the Blandishes.’ Heritage tapped his fingers together. ‘On second thoughts, the story was wrong. Milton mu
st have resigned for other reasons. Wasn’t his new wife a dancing girl? The authorities must have objected to him going native.’
‘Sometimes—it is the only explanation.’ Adam forced a short laugh and closed his eyes. This time, instead of Tom or Kamala’s ghostly features, he saw Miss Milton’s upturned face with her lips slightly parted after he had kissed her. He opened his eyes and stared directly at Heritage. ‘Hopefully you will keep silent. Miss Milton might be disturbed to learn from others that I knew her brother and neglected to mention the connection. Allow me to tell her in my own fashion.’
Heritage leant back and smiled. ‘You know me—silent as the grave on the subject. But did Milton have the stomach for the fight? I had always thought these factors were a bit lacking…’
Adam bit back the words that bubbled to the surface about Milton’s heroism and sacrifice. Those were for Miss Milton. He wanted to tell the story in his own way. It was perhaps wrong of him, but he wanted Miss Milton to think the best of him. ‘The man was Miss Milton’s brother.’
‘I never said he was a coward.’ Heritage tossed the apple core in the air, caught it with one hand. ‘Miss Milton would be quite pretty if she did not wear such hideous clothes and such fierce expressions.’
‘Never really noticed. We were busy discussing other things. Like getting me here alive.’ A piece of his mind nagged at him, but drowsiness made thinking difficult.
‘I say, wasn’t Milton the one to pull that woman off the pyre?’ Heritage’s words jerked Adam awake. ‘What was her name—Kam, Kammie something, Kamala? Wasn’t she a courtesan or something to you?’
‘Heritage, that was long ago and far away.’ Adam put a finality into his voice. Heritage was far too interested in the events at the hill station all those years ago. ‘The woman is dead.’
‘But I understood—’
‘It was a tale that was exaggerated many times over before it reached Bombay and Calcutta. Leave it in the past.’
Compromising Miss Milton Page 8
