by Laura Martin
‘Go away,’ a flat voice called out as he pushed open the door.
The nursery was tidy, eerily so, and the two girls sitting side by side on the window seat were both looking out the steamy windows at the rain.
‘Girls, this is Miss Salinger, your new governess.’
Theodosia began to turn round, interest on her face, but a quick tug on the arm from her sister stopped the movement. Matthew felt a bubble of irritation welling up. He knew the girls were grieving, knew it would take them a long time to feel anything approaching happiness again, but rudeness was still unacceptable.
‘Girls,’ he chided. ‘Come and greet your new governess.’
Slowly both girls got to their feet, Priscilla flashing him a dark look before tossing her blonde hair back over her shoulders and looking defiantly at the mud-spattered governess.
‘Good afternoon,’ Miss Salinger said. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you both, Lady Priscilla, Lady Theodosia.’
‘Did you walk here?’ Priscilla asked haughtily. ‘In this rain?’
‘Only from the end of the drive,’ Miss Salinger said, her calm demeanour making Matthew want to step back out of the room and hand things over to her immediately.
‘That was foolish.’
‘It was necessary,’ the governess said with a shrug. ‘And a little mud never hurt anyone.’
Priscilla wrinkled up her nose, but Matthew caught her younger sister trying to stifle a smile.
‘I look forward to getting to know you girls,’ Miss Salinger said. ‘Tomorrow we can decide what you would like to learn.’
‘We can choose?’ Theodosia stepped forward with shining eyes. ‘I want to learn archery—all the bravest fighters can shoot a bow.’
‘I’m not sure archery is quite what Miss Salinger meant.’
Theodosia pouted, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the governess wink at the little girl. Matthew felt himself relax. He might not be able to manage his two nieces, but it seemed that Miss Salinger was more than up to the job. It would allow him to recede into the background, to spend the next few weeks sorting out the house and the estate. Then, when the girls had settled with Miss Salinger he would be able to escape back to India, back to the life where he belonged.
Chapter Two
Selina pulled the comb through her hair with a satisfied sigh. Her initial welcome at Manresa House might have left much to be desired, but when she’d been shown to her room the housekeeper had already set the maids to filling up a large bathtub with steaming water ready for Selina to wash the mud from her skin and hair before dinner.
Quickly she pinned back the still-damp locks and checked her appearance in the small mirror. She looked pale, tired from the travelling, and the face that stared back at her was thinner than the one she imagined, the one she remembered.
Pulling herself from the melancholic thoughts of how her life used to be, she stood, smoothed down her dress and headed downstairs for dinner. Tonight she would be dining with Lord Westcroft, a chance to discuss the girls’ education and find out a little more about them. Every other night no doubt she would take her meals in the nursery with the children.
Selina had learned to walk quietly this past year, always conscious that she was in someone else’s house, never wanting to draw attention to herself. As she made her way to the drawing room she paused just outside the door. Lord Westcroft was already there, standing at one of the large mahogany tables, bent over something that was laid out on it. She watched him for a moment, taking in his absolute concentration, the small frown between his eyebrows as he traced a finger over the paper.
Suddenly he looked up, his eyes coming to meet hers immediately. Selina felt the heat begin to rise in her cheeks at having been caught staring, but forced a smile on to her face. She saw his eyes flicker over her and brought a hand up instinctively to her throat, a gesture of protection she’d become used to needing this past year. Not all her employers had kept the distance they should have.
‘Miss Salinger,’ he said, his expression unreadable.
‘Good evening,’ Selina said, dipping into a low curtsy. She walked into the room, catching sight of the document he’d been so engrossed in. It was a large and well-drawn map, with different colours denoting different continents and looped, ornate writing depicting the oceans. Open next to it on the table was a smaller, tattered book of maps and he seemed to be comparing the two. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing you.’
‘I have time for dinner,’ he said, his tone brisk. It was clear that he saw the next hour as a duty, a time to hand over responsibility for his wards, but then he would be keen to return to whatever work he saw as more important.
Selina adjusted her stance. Direct and to the point she could do. They both obviously wanted the same thing: to ensure the welfare of the two grieving little girls upstairs. If Lord Westcroft did not have time for small talk, then she would use the time over dinner to find out as much about her charges as possible and perhaps a little about the man responsible for them.
‘Shall we?’ He offered her his arm.
Selina hesitated, unused to being shown such respect. In her last position as governess to the son of Lord and Lady Gilchrist she had been treated as a servant, always pushed into the shadows, never spoken to directly.
Carefully she placed her hand on his forearm and let him lead her into the dining room. It was grand, but decaying like the rest of the house, a gloomy room barely lit by the candles dotted around the edges. Selina felt herself stiffen as Lord Westcroft’s arm brushed against her as he drew out her chair, but a quick glance at his face showed her the action wasn’t deliberate.
As soon as they’d sat down a footman appeared carrying two plates, setting them down carefully so as not to spill the thin soup that lay inside.
‘I should tell you a little about Priscilla and Theodosia’s background,’ Lord Westcroft said as he lifted his spoon. It was straight to the point and Selina felt a little ripple of irritation. The man could not be more eager to be rid of her. Quickly she suppressed it, reminding herself this was what she wanted, a courteous but formal relationship with her employer.
‘Please.’
‘I do not profess to know the girls well,’ he said stiffly. ‘Their mother died two years ago. Their father, my late brother, died nine months ago. I was in India at the time and the journey back to England took several months, so I have only been in residence with the children for just shy of nine weeks.’
Long enough to get to know two children if he had wanted to.
‘They have been through a lot,’ Selina said, thinking of the defiant little girls, one in particular, sharp and suspicious. It was only to be expected after losing both parents in such a short time.
‘Indeed. They are grieving, but they need boundaries. I’m afraid before I arrived back in England they were looked after by an elderly female relative who let them run wild. They have not coped well now that they are expected to behave like young ladies rather than animals.’
‘Children,’ Selina corrected quietly.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Well, they’re children, not young ladies. They will become young ladies all too soon, but at the moment they are children.’
Lord Westcroft looked at her long and hard for half a minute before giving a dismissive wave of his hand.
‘Even children have to have certain levels of expected behaviour.’
Selina inclined her head. It was true, children thrived when there were boundaries, routines. As long as those boundaries and routines were accompanied by love and praise and positivity.
‘How would you like me to address them? Should I use their title all the time, or just their names?’
‘They’re children. I think their names will suffice,’ he said with a little nod of his head. ‘You will instruct the children in mathematics, history and music.’
&nbs
p; She waited, but no more was forthcoming.
‘How about art? And literature? The natural world?’
Lord Westcroft looked at her with a steely expression on his face. ‘I do not care how you occupy the girls for the entire day, as long as they come out of it with a decent basic education.’
‘An education for what?’ Selina asked mildly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, what I teach them depends on what you hope their futures will look like. If you merely wish the girls to catch the eye of the most eligible gentlemen in the district, then they will need to focus on music, dancing and managing household accounts. If you wish them to have a different future, then the other subjects will become more important.’
Silence stretched out between them and Selina knew she had gone too far. It was only her first day and she risked being thrown out, sent back to London in disgrace. She’d just wanted to provoke the steely Lord Westcroft, to probe into the hard façade. To get him to see that the little girls upstairs weren’t the inconvenience he so obviously thought they were, that they were living, breathing humans with dreams and ambitions of their own.
‘Let’s start with mathematics, history and music,’ he said eventually. ‘Once they have mastered those subjects they can be free to pursue other areas of interest.’ It was a measured reply, calm and diplomatic, and Selina felt a flicker of respect for the man in front of her. He’d risen to her challenge and deflected it.
The next course was brought in by the footman, succulent slices of chicken with an assortment of vegetables.
‘I shall see the girls every Sunday afternoon in my study for a report on their progress.’
‘Once a week?’
‘Yes. On a Sunday.’
‘Surely you will want to see them more than that? To interact with them, to get to know them.’
‘They are children, Miss Salinger. And they have you.’
‘But I’m just a governess, someone paid to look after them. You’re family.’
Lord Westcroft put down his fork, letting the silence stretch out between them.
‘Before the letter arrived notifying me of my brother’s death I had no idea Priscilla and Theodosia existed,’ he said quietly. ‘They do not know me. We might be relatives by blood, but we have no shared experiences, nothing to bond us.’
‘But—’ Selina started, but Lord Westcroft held up an authoritative hand to stop her.
‘I will see them once a week on a Sunday, to ensure they are learning what they should and their welfare is being taken care of. The rest of the time they are in your hands, Miss Salinger.’
His tone was so stony, his words so final that Selina didn’t try to object again. She wondered at the rift that must have torn this family apart to have resulted in Lord Westcroft not even being told of his nieces’ existence.
‘I shall do as you wish, Lord Westcroft,’ Selina said quietly. That and so much more.
* * *
Silently Matthew padded across the hallway. On his feet he was wearing only his socks, having long ago divested himself of his shoes in a bid to get more comfortable. The house was quiet, eerily so, with just the occasional creaking of the wooden windows to add to the effect. Outside somewhere an owl hooted, a dark shadow streaming past the window as it flew through the night.
Matthew felt unsettled. He’d felt unsettled for the past nine weeks. It was being back here, at Manresa House, the one place he’d vowed never to return to. Every room had a memory he would rather forget, every nook and cranny threatened to transport him back to a time when he was a vulnerable young lad. If he had his wish, he would have the building knocked to the ground, destroying the stone it was made from and the memories it held inside.
‘It’s only a building,’ he reminded himself, muttering under his breath. He couldn’t destroy the house, no matter how much he wanted to. It was a place of familiarity for Priscilla and Theodosia, a place filled with memories for his two nieces. Hopefully happier memories than his own. He wouldn’t take their home from them as well as everything else.
Silently he opened the door to the library, feeling the tension seep out of him as he always did when he entered this vault of a room. It had been his own special place as a child, with neither his parents nor his older brother caring to peruse the thousands of books housed on the shelves, his sanctuary. He stepped inside, feeling the smile form on his lips as his eyes danced across the familiar titles on the heavy leather spines. Sleep might be difficult to come by, but at least he would not grow bored.
Matthew reached out and slipped a book from the shelves, gripping it tightly just as he heard a quiet cough from directly behind him. For a second his heart squeezed in his chest, every muscle in his body clenched and primed for action. It took another second for the rational part of his brain to calm his instincts and stop him from spinning round and lashing out. Here he was safe. It was highly unlikely he was about to be pounced upon by a man-eating tiger or attacked by a deadly snake.
Slowly he turned, fixing his expression into a mild frown.
‘Please forgive me, Lord Westcroft,’ Miss Salinger said, her cheeks flushing. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought everyone else in the house asleep and hoped you wouldn’t mind me borrowing a book to read.’
Of course it was the governess. She’d been in residence for a grand total of seven hours and already she was becoming a thorn in his side.
Unfair, he silently chastised himself.
‘Do you often walk around strange houses in the dead of night without a candle?’ he asked, his voice low.
‘N-no,’ she stuttered.
He felt a perverse pleasure at her discomfort and allowed himself to watch as her lips searched for her next words. They were full lips, rosy even in the darkness, lips no doubt many men had fantasised about over the years.
‘I was taught never to bring a lit flame into a library,’ she said.
‘Who taught you that, Miss Salinger?’ It was a rule he observed himself, but he doubted his new governess grew up in a household grand enough to have a library.
‘My father.’
When she did not elaborate he nodded slowly. ‘Sensible man. Did he have any views on the best time of day to visit a library?’
‘There is sufficient moonlight to see by,’ Miss Salinger said, raising her chin a notch.
As she spoke the moon emerged from behind the thick clouds and shone in through the windows. As well as illuminating the books it reflected off the white of Miss Salinger’s nightgown that peeked out from under the loosely tied dressing gown.
Matthew couldn’t help but look. He was a man. A flawed man. A man who would never take advantage of a woman in his employ, but who couldn’t entirely avert his eyes when the moonlight made the cotton of a woman’s nightgown appear almost sheer over her body. He could only see a sliver of nightgown, but it was enough.
He swallowed. Blinked. She was an attractive young woman, tall with a body full of soft curves. This evening her hair was loose, dark locks cascading over her shoulders, framing a pretty face.
‘Indeed there is,’ he murmured.
She shifted slightly, making the nightgown ripple against her skin, hinting at the curves underneath.
Matthew closed his eyes, counted to five. He had been too long without a woman.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ As he spoke he moved to one side so he wouldn’t be looking directly at her.
‘Not yet. I was just browsing your titles. It really is a fine library.’
He murmured agreement, his eyes seeking out her lips again as she spoke. They were remarkably pink. Remarkably kissable.
As soon as the thought sprang into his mind he dismissed it firmly. Miss Salinger was far too important to even consider a dalliance. He couldn’t risk anything that might scare her off. Nine weeks he’d waited for
a governess, nine weeks of emotional torture as the two little girls upstairs withdrew further into themselves.
‘Perhaps I can help you find something,’ he suggested, deciding his best course of action would be to hurry Miss Salinger on her way back to her bedroom. Far out of his line of sight. ‘What were you hoping to find?’
‘A classic, perhaps. The Iliad or the Odyssey.’
A woman of fine taste in literature. Not that he should be surprised that a governess was well read.
‘Here...’ he reached up to the shelves a little to his left and plucked two books from their places ‘...the Iliad and the Odyssey. You can decide later which you wish to read first.’
‘Thank you,’ Miss Salinger said with a smile. Her fingers brushed his as he handed the books over, soft skin against his callused hands, and he had to fight the urge to pull away quickly, pretending instead not to notice the contact.
‘Goodnight, Miss Salinger,’ he said, stepping back so she could make her way to the door. As she walked away he found his eyes trailing her, noting the sway of her body beneath the shapeless, sensible dressing gown.
‘Give me strength,’ he murmured to himself.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Sleep well.’
With a final smile thrown in his direction she was gone, leaving him to his decidedly unchivalrous thoughts.
Chapter Three
‘A little rain never hurt anyone,’ Selina said, her tone calm but firm as she ushered the two young girls from the nursery, gripping their coats tightly in one hand.
‘It killed everyone who wasn’t on Noah’s Ark,’ Priscilla said, flashing her a dark look.
‘I hardly think we can compare this light drizzle to a biblical flood.’
Four hours, that was how long they’d been cooped up in the schoolroom, Selina trying her very hardest to follow Lord Westcroft’s instructions and teach the girls mathematics and history. It had been a disaster. For months they had been allowed to run free, to live their days without structure or discipline. She had been foolish to think she could instil it back in them in one day.
