The Governess Who Stole My Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hanna Hamilton

  The younger gentlemen were clustered together in groups, whispering comments on the passing ladies. And the ladies hid their mouths behind a fan if they wanted to make a comment to a companion.

  Jessica and Susan made several circles of the room, nodding and acknowledging smiles, but, as of yet, not engaging in any conversations.

  The young men craned their necks, looking back at Susan after they passed by. Jessica took note, and said, “You have many admirers, Susan. If you see any gentleman you’d like to speak with let me know and I’ll make an introduction.”

  “Jessica, this is a totally pointless exercise. Once these young men find out who I really am, they’ll flee like a flock of chickens from a hawk.”

  Jessica laughed. “Yes, you’re probably right. But we’re here for a dalliance, not a romance. Just enjoy yourself and accept the admiration.”

  Susan sighed.

  As they were beginning their third circuit of the room Susan happened to look over at a tea table in the corner of the room. And sitting at that table was Aunt Clarissa and John Chamberlain.

  Chapter 6

  John looked up as Susan and Jessica approached their table.

  “Miss Susan?” He exclaimed, a fleeting range of emotions flashing across his face.

  “Your Grace… John. What a surprise to see you in Bath.”

  “And I could say the same,” he said standing.

  Susan made all the introductions.

  “Come, sit with us,” John said.

  “Yes, please do,” Aunt Clarissa added.

  They sat at the table and a waiter came over. “May I get you anything?” he asked.

  John turned to the ladies. “Tea? Sherry? Champagne?

  Jessica turned her chair so that she could be seen sitting with a Duke by the circling crowd on the floor. “I think a sherry sounds lovely.”

  “Miss Susan?” the Duke asked.

  “Tea for me, if you please.”

  “Thank you,” John said and the waiter left.

  “What brings you to Bath,” Susan asked.

  “After the incident at your sister’s wedding, Aunt Clarissa did not recover as quickly as we would have liked, so I suggested we come for the healing waters.”

  “Most sensible.” Susan turned to Aunt. “And are they helping?”

  “I believe they are, although I think a change of scenery is helping as much as the waters.”

  “And you, Miss Susan, are you skipping school?” he asked smiling slightly.

  “Not yet. We don’t start up for several weeks yet.”

  Susan studied John. She was puzzled, remembering his abrupt departure from the wedding dance. He seemed to give no indication that he was still angry, but he still looked a little troubled. However, he gave no indication of what it had been to so anger him that he had to leave the wedding.

  Jessica spoke up. “If the two of you are free this evening, I would like to invite you to dinner at my apartment. We have the most amazing cook and I promise it will be a treat.”

  John turned to his aunt. “How do you feel about that?”

  “Only if it’s an early evening. I can’t be out late like I used to.”

  “Dinner at six and you shall be home by eight if that suits you,” Jessica said.

  Aunt nodded.

  “Then six o’clock it shall be.”

  Susan remained mostly silent while Jessica and Aunt Clarissa carried on a conversation about the restaurants in Bath. Susan caught John glancing over at her on several different occasions. And when he noticed her catching his glance, he quickly looked away.

  Jessica and Susan drank their tea and sherry and chatted for a short while longer and then excused themselves.

  As they were heading for the exit, Jessica said. “What a handsome man. Much more interesting than the shallow lads traipsing around in circles in this room.”

  “I agree, he is. But he’s also an enigma.”

  “How so?”

  Susan explained his odd behavior at the wedding.

  “But it seems he holds no animosity toward you. He appeared to be the perfect gentleman—although darkly so.”

  “How do you mean?” Susan asked.

  “There is a brooding intensity behind his eyes. He looks like he could either break into song or slay a dragon, depending on his mood.”

  “Oh, Jessica, I adore you. You can always make me laugh.”

  “And it also seemed to me that he was scrutinizing you quite thoroughly, as well.”

  “But remember, Jessica, he’s a Duke and I’m but a school mistress. He was just being polite to a local.”

  “But certainly, he must consider you more than just that? After all, his brother was to marry you.”

  “His brother… yes. The second son with no inheritance.”

  After leaving the pump room, they left the building and went to the street where Jessica hailed a cab.

  “I must alert cook that we’re having guests.”

  “Isn’t it a bit late? It doesn’t give her a lot of time to prepare for two more guests, does it?”

  Jessica waved her hand in the air as the cab headed toward The Circus. “She always prepares for more than expected. Folks are always staying for dinner at the last moment.”

  Susan laughed. “My mother would have a cow if we sprang unexpected guests on her.”

  “Ah, my dear, but this is Bath. One always expects the unexpected.”

  John had been polite and reserved all through dinner. However, he kept studying Susan and smiling when she looked up at him.

  Aunt Clarissa was in a cheery mood and helped carry the dinner conversation through to the end.

  As there were no other gentlemen in attendance to have port and cigars with, all four retired to the sitting room for coffee and cognac.

  As they were heading toward the sitting room, Susan placed her hand on John’s arm, stopping him as the two ladies walked on ahead.

  “John, I wanted to let you know I met your brother in London.”

  He seemed startled. “Did you have an appointment with him?”

  “Oh, no. It was a chance meeting.”

  “Was it awkward for you?”

  “Somewhat, but I recovered.”

  “I’ve not had a word from him since he absconded with my money before your wedding.”

  “Yes, I asked him if he’d paid you back, but he indicated that he hadn’t.

  “And that’s true. How did he seem?”

  Susan thought about that. “He was with a young lady from Bath. We were at the theater. We couldn’t speak too openly, but he seemed a little harried to me. When I asked him how he was making a living he said import-export with some friends. It sounded suspicious to me.”

  John hung his head. “I feel bad for him. I really do. I wish he would contact me. I should like to reconcile. And you have no idea how to reach him?”

  “I’m sorry. I was not inclined to see him again.”

  “Of course,” John said nothing for a moment then he looked over to Susan and put his hand on her arm. “Thank you for letting me know. And thank you for not telling me this in front of Aunt Clarissa.”

  “I thought it should be just between us.”

  As John let go of her arm, Susan once again felt that charge of energy surge between them. She wondered if he felt it like she did. But he gave no indication that he did. Then he led the way into the sitting room.

  It was nearly eight o’clock when John stood and extended his hand to his aunt.

  “I know you don’t want a late night. Are you ready to leave?” he asked her.

  She smiled, stood, and before accepting his arm turned to Susan.

  “My dear, when you return to Ash would you do me the favor of calling on me one afternoon? I’ve something I’d like to discuss with you. Any time would be fine. I rarely go out.”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  Thank you for coming, Your Grace,” Jessica said, slightly bowing her head. “It’s been a great pleasure
entertaining you and your lovely aunt.”

  The Duke nodded and escorted his aunt away.

  The next morning was the mud day. A long relaxing soak in a tub of mud was exactly what Susan wanted. She lay back in the warm ooze and closed her eyes and was having a restful nap before she knew it. And after the mud, there was a long soothing massage and a cool down in a private cubicle where she nearly fell asleep again.

  Susan was to meet Jessica in the lobby of the bathhouse. As she came out of the dressing room she saw Jessica chatting with a young man who tipped his hat as she approached.

  “Good morning, Miss Wilton. Your cousin was just telling me about your dinner last evening with the Duke of Lennox. She tells me you are an intimate of his circle.”

  “Susan this is the Viscount Silvester Damler from Northumberland. He is visiting Bath with his mother,” Jessica said.

  The Viscount was thin, pale, and reedy. He looked like he might blow away in a stiff breeze.

  “Susan Wilton,” she said, bowing her head. “I’m hardly an intimate of the Duke’s. I teach grammar school in a small village in Kent.”

  This seemed to set the Viscount back for a moment and he gathered himself together by brushing the two sides of his thin moustache with a gloved finger.

  “I see. And it has been such a great pleasure meeting the both of you.” He clicked his heels, turned, and scooted out of the lobby like a rabbit being chased by a dog.

  “Oh, Susan, you scared him away with your tales of rural education.”

  “Really Jessica, I’m quite bored with all this nonsense. Can we please go back to London now? I’m afraid I’ll never be any good at all of these social shenanigans.”

  Jessica sighed and examined her cousin. “Yes, my dear, if you like, but I had such high hopes of you finding some shining cavalier to sweep you off your feet.”

  “Oh, Jessica, I don’t believe I’ve seen a single cavalier—shining or otherwise during my entire trip. I think I’ll do much better with my handsome sailor from Ash.”

  Jessica tilted her head and said, “Ooo, a handsome sailor? You’ve not told me about him. You’ve been holding out on me. Now you must tell me absolutely everything.”

  After returning to London from Bath, Susan stayed a few days longer. They attended a few museums during the day and went to a concert one evening and a presentation of ballet the next. They ate at several restaurants and had luncheon at home but the flavor had gone out of the adventure for Susan. She longed for home.

  One afternoon at tea, before Sir Allister Beaumont made his appearance, Susan put her hand on the tea table and said, “My dearest Cousin, Jessica…”

  “Oh, my, this sounds like the introduction to a good-bye speech,” her cousin said.

  Susan lowered her eyes. “Yes, Jessica, I’m afraid it is.”

  “I’ve seen how restless you’ve been since we returned from Bath. I was expecting you might want to leave. Did you have a dreadful time?”

  “Oh, not at all. And you have been the perfect hostess. It’s just… I’m afraid, I have a small appetite, and London is too much of a feast for a quiet country girl like me.”

  Jessica smiled and nodded. “I understand. And when you become hungry once again, please just drop me a note and you’re always welcome to visit again.”

  Susan smiled sweetly. “Yes, my dear cousin, I shall.”

  Susan was so relieved to be home in Ash, and in her own bed. She woke up the morning after she arrived back from London and luxuriated in the softness of her own sheets, lying awake for several moments before stretching and thinking of actually getting out of the bed.

  She went to her window where the dawn had progressed to the actual sunrise. She opened the casement windows and inhaled the fresh morning air. How invigorating after the haze of the London mornings. She heard the cock crowing again and watched as the chickens pecked at the earth around the barn.

  Yes, she was home.

  “Mamma,” she called out, as she entered the kitchen. “How can I help?”

  Katherine was sitting at the Wilton’s kitchen table with a huge basket of ripe plums in front of her.

  “What are we to do with all of these?” Susan asked.

  “Bumper crop. I hate to see them go to waste. Could we make some jam or chutney?”

  “Let me see if we have enough crocks to put these up. Louisa used to help with jamming, but she’s no longer with us.” Susan suddenly burst out laughing. “That didn’t come out right. It sounds as though she’s passed on.”

  “I’ll help. We’ve been making jams all week. I’m used to it by now,” Katherine said.

  So they stood up from the table, rolled up their sleeves, and set to work, seeding and cutting up the plums, and putting them into a large jam pot.”

  “Oh, Mamma will love this. She’s very partial to plum jam.”

  The jam was simmering on the stovetop when Susan asked. “Have you heard from your brother? Has he shipped out already?”

  “We had a very short note saying he was sailing on the high tide Tuesday last. He said he was short of time and was unable to write a letter to you, but asked me to give you his regards. You were still in London when the letter came or I would have told you sooner. And how was your trip, by the way?”

  “It was lovely seeing Jessica, but the pace of Bath and London tired me.”

  “You went to Bath as well?” Katherine exclaimed.

  “We did.” Susan sighed. “But I didn’t enjoy it except for one day when we wallowed in mud like a couple of piggies.”

  Katherine hooted with laughter. “Mud?”

  “Yes, it was a delicious experience.”

  “Why ever would one wallow in mud? And this is something one pays for?” Katherine laughed.

  “Oh, it was wonderful. It’s excellent for the skin and it makes one feel like being six years old again at the swimming hole.”

  Katherine sighed. “I’ll never understand the ways of Londoners. I’m just too much of a country girl.”

  “Yes. Me too,” Susan said, as she began spooning jam into the crocks.

  “What a wonderful aroma,” Mamma said as she came into the kitchen. “I could smell it even from outside. What are you two doing?”

  “Katherine brought us a basket of plums so we’re making jam,” Susan said, as she wiped the rim of a crock and sealed it.

  “How’s married life for Louisa, Mrs. Wilton? Have you heard from her?” Katherine asked.

  Mother sat down at the table and poured herself a cup of tea from the still warm pot under the cozy.

  “I have… almost every day. Their house is just down the road, you know, and she manages to come by often with questions about this and that. She’s still setting up house and needs any number of household items that we have extras of. Evidently, our Mr. Tunbull was not much of a householder. Typical bachelor, I should image. He just needed a lady’s hand to sort him out.”

  “And I’m certain she’s just the one to do it,” Susan said laughing.

  “When do you start teaching?” Katherine asked.

  “Week after next.”

  “Are you excited to go back?”

  “I am. My London adventure gave me a greater appreciation for what I have here.”

  “But she didn’t meet any suitable young gentlemen in London, she tells me.” Mamma sighed. “I don’t know what’s to become of her. I really don’t.”

  “Mamma, please. Let it go. There is more to life than just marriage.”

  “Susan Wilton! Let me not hear you say such blasphemy in this house again. We don’t say such things in this family.”

  Chapter 7

  Teaching was to commence tomorrow. Susan had promised Aunt Clarissa she would call on her and this afternoon seemed the perfect time. Once she began teaching she would get caught up in school activities and it would be more difficult to take the time for a visit.

  “Papa, might I use the trap this afternoon?” She asked as he was mucking out the barn.


  “Don’t see why not. Watcha got going on?” he asked.

  “I promised to pay a visit to the Duke’s aunt. She asked to see me.”

  Her father nodded. “Back by supper?”

  “Oh, yes. Much before that, I expect.”

  “Keep an eye on the left wheel. S’been scraping and rattling a bit. Need to get at it but never seem to have the time.”

  “Have Jacob take a look at it. He’s good with repairs.”

  “I’ve got him tending to the pump in the three sheep field.”

  “Thanks, Papa.”

  Susan couldn’t imagine what Aunt Clarissa wanted to see her about. They had never conversed more than a few times—and then mostly just pleasantries and chit chat. And she couldn’t help but wonder if she would run into the Duke. It even crossed her mind that he could somehow be responsible for this invitation. Might he have asked his aunt to invite her for some reason? She would just have to wait and see.

  After lunch, she dressed nicely in one of her Sunday dresses and, after hitching up the horse to the trap, set out for Haverford House.

  It was a lovely drive. A few of the trees were starting to turn autumn colors. There was a grove of trees up the hill above the mill that was particularly attractive.

  She crossed the bridge by the pub and was soon starting up the drive to Haverford House. She had only been to Haverford House a couple of time when she and Simon were engaged.

  It was a handsome seventeenth century structure of brick and stone. It was not heavily ornamented on the outside, but the inside was impressively grand without being ostentatious. There were many fine landscapes and family portraits of past Dukes and Duchesses—their children and even their horses and dogs.

  Susan had not written ahead, as Aunt Clarissa had said to stop by at any time. But she considered that she might be napping and if so, was prepared to wait.

  She drove the trap up the drive and to the imposing front entrance. She tied the horse and walked to the door and knocked, using the large lion-faced knocker.