The Rags-to-Riches Governess--A Cinderella Regency Romance

by Janice Preston

  Leah bit back a smile and judged it better to ignore Spartacus’s antisocial behaviour for Beatrice’s sake.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Burnham. And would you arrange for water to be heated for a bath for Miss Fothergill, please?’ Leah smiled at Beatrice. ‘A bath will warm you up, and we can eat a proper breakfast afterwards with Aurelia and Mrs Butterby, if you are still hungry.’

  As soon as the door closed behind the housekeeper, Leah handed one of the cups to Beatrice, who wrapped her hands around it and sipped, her eyes closed. Leah took advantage of the moment to study her sister. She looked thinner than she remembered from their meeting in Bristol eight weeks ago, and some of her bloom had faded.

  ‘I presume by your early arrival you travelled up on the mail coach, Beatrice? You must be exhausted. I...’ Leah hesitated to pry, but she could not resist saying, ‘I am surprised your brother allowed you to travel all this way unescorted.’

  Beatrice slumped in her chair, closing her eyes as she rubbed the middle of her forehead, effectively shielding her expression from Leah.

  ‘He did not know. I—I had to run away, you see. Percy...he’s my brother...he found the will and he insisted he would bring me to London himself. Well, him and his wife, Fenella, and her b-brother...but, oh, Leah... I could not bear them to taint my new life, and so I had to leave when I got the chance but, the whole way, I was so scared he would catch me and spoil everything.’

  She hung her head and heaved in a shuddering breath, and Leah recalled Beatrice’s agitation when she had mentioned her brother after their first meeting in Bristol. She couldn’t wait to hear the whole story of what had happened, but she curbed her curiosity.

  ‘At least you are here now, and you are safe from him, Beatrice.’

  Beatrice shook her head despondently. ‘You do not know my brother. He will not give up so easily.’ Then she fell silent, catching her lower lip between her teeth before releasing it and straightening in the chair. ‘He is not my brother, though, is he? I ought not to feel guilty for running away. And I have another family now. He can no longer tell me what to do.’ She turned a pair of huge blue eyes—so like Aurelia’s but trusting rather than wary—to Leah. ‘Can he?’

  Leah squeezed Beatrice’s hand. ‘No, Beatrice. He cannot. You are a wealthy young lady now, and we—Aurelia and I—are your family.’

  Beatrice set her cup down, picked up a plate and took a roll. She bit into it and chewed, her forehead creased in thought. Then she swallowed and sighed. ‘But he knows this address, Leah. He will follow me here, I know it.’

  ‘Let him come, then. You need never be alone with him—I, or Aurelia, will be with you.’

  Beatrice smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘There is no need to thank me. We are sisters. We will all look after one another. And, look...even Spartacus has made himself at home.’

  She pointed at the cat—the biggest she had ever seen—who was crouching over the dish and wolfing down food as though he hadn’t seen a feed in a fortnight.

  ‘All will be well,’ she added, and her heart leapt as she recalled Dolph saying the exact same words to her last night, and as she remembered he would be here at eleven o’clock.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  While Beatrice bathed, Leah returned to her bedchamber to wash and dress. Faith told her Aurelia and Mrs Butterby were both awake and would see her in the morning parlour for breakfast. When a knock sounded at Leah’s door, it was Maria, Beatrice’s maid, with Beatrice herself, her hair still damp and smelling of lemons, and dressed in an ill-fitting yellow-sprigged muslin gown and a threadbare shawl draped around her shoulders.

  Leah frowned. ‘Are you warm enough dressed so scantily, Beatrice?’

  Beatrice turned pink. ‘I did not bring many gowns with me. Only what I could carry.’

  ‘Faith? Fetch my paisley shawl, will you, please?’ Leah smiled at Beatrice. ‘I could not forgive myself if you catch a chill with that damp hair. Please oblige me by borrowing one of my shawls—the weather is hardly warm enough for such lightweight clothing.’

  Beatrice hung her head. ‘I am sorry. I didn’t think. My sister-in-law likes big fires at Pilcombe Grange, and it is often stifling indoors.’

  ‘And do not keep apologising.’ Leah tucked her arm through her half-sister’s. ‘My comment was not a criticism but concern for your comfort. You will soon have a new wardrobe, and then your clothes will be suitable for London and for this house, and you will forget all about that brother of yours. Now, come. Aurelia is impatient to see you again, and Mrs Butterby is longing to be introduced.’

  Later, as the four women sat at the table in the morning parlour, breaking their fast, Leah had to bite her tongue on more than one occasion as Aurelia and Mrs Butterby questioned Beatrice. Really! She might as well not have wasted her time in trying to reassure Beatrice and ease her fears because, by the time they rose from the table, her sister was as anxious as ever. Mrs Butterby, talking non-stop as she tried to prepare poor Beatrice for her new life in the bosom of the haut ton, walked ahead with Beatrice to the drawing room while Leah and Aurelia followed behind.

  ‘That brother!’ Aurelia shook her head. ‘I should like to meet him. I would soon send him packing, I can tell you.’

  ‘I do not doubt it. But, Aurelia... I do think it will help reduce Beatrice’s anxiety if we avoid talking about her brother too often.’

  Aurelia stopped and frowned. ‘What do you mean? I am trying to give her some backbone—she needs to stand up for herself.’

  ‘I know. But her confidence needs building up first, and if we keep reminding her of her brother, it will take her much longer to accept she is safe from him.’

  ‘You mean if I keep reminding her of him. But I want to know what he did to her to make her so...so...meek. I cannot wait for him to call here.’ Aurelia’s dainty hands balled into fists. ‘How dare he turn a beautiful woman into this...this...blancmange?’

  ‘Come...’ Leah linked her arm through Aurelia’s and continued towards the drawing room. ‘You and I are not going to quarrel over this, are we? It is far too soon for Beatrice to cope with all these questions, let alone Mrs Butterby’s warnings of disasters waiting to befall the unwary newcomer to Society. The poor thing must be exhausted.’

  ‘You are right.’ Aurelia shook her head. ‘I do not admit this lightly, but even if Beatrice did not fear her brother, I would distrust him. I find it hard to trust the gentlemen of this world.’

  ‘I had noticed,’ said Leah, dryly. ‘But at least now Beatrice is here we can finally discuss whether or not we publicly admit to our relationship.’

  ‘You know my opinion on that. I think we should announce it and be damned.’

  ‘As do I, but I can also understand why Mrs Butterby advises caution.’

  ‘Caution?’ Mrs Butterby queried from where she and Beatrice sat on the sofa. ‘About what did I advise caution?’

  ‘Whether or not to openly acknowledge the three of us are half-sisters,’ said Leah. She sat on a vacant chair—Spartacus, busy grooming himself, having commandeered the seat closest to the fire—and smiled at Beatrice. ‘We agreed to wait until your arrival, as the decision will affect you too.’

  Beatrice straightened, frowning. ‘Why should we not admit to our relationship?’ Her gaze darted between the other three women. ‘I am proud to have you as sisters and I care not who knows it.’

  Aurelia—standing next to Leah’s chair—nudged her. ‘There. Beatrice agrees with me.’

  ‘But...you do not understand, Beatrice,’ said Mrs Butterby. ‘By openly admitting you are the offspring of the late Lord Tregowan, you are exposing your mothers’ morals to the censure of Society.’

  ‘Speculation is already rife,’ said Leah.

  ‘Ah, but speculation is merely that. Once you acknowledge the truth, there will be no going back. And there will be suitors, and families,
who will not even consider an alliance if there is a hint of a taint in your bloodlines.’

  ‘If I am not good enough for a man to marry based upon my own merit, then he is not good enough for me to consider,’ said Aurelia.

  ‘And I, too, am proud to call you both my sisters,’ said Leah. ‘So I agree we should acknowledge our relationship, for, as Aurelia pointed out, to keep it secret would mean a lifetime of lies, and surely there can be nothing worse than starting out married life upon a lie.’

  And I shall start with telling Dolph the truth. Her pulse quickened at the thought he would soon be there.

  ‘Well. If you are all determined...’ Mrs Butterby paused, heaved a sigh, shook her head, and then, unexpectedly, she smiled. ‘May I say... I applaud your courage and your integrity. And I am also slightly envious you have one another. I hope you continue to support each other, and that you become lifelong friends as well as sisters.’ Her voice faltered over the last few words, and she took out her handkerchief and blotted her eyes. ‘There! I have turned all maudlin! Beatrice, my dear, you must be exhausted... Why do you not go upstairs to rest now? And—’ She shot to her feet. ‘Leah! In all the furore of Beatrice’s arrival, I quite forgot! Lord Dolphinstone arrives shortly. Oh, my goodness.’

  ‘Lord Dolphinstone?’

  Leah blushed at Beatrice’s quizzical look. ‘I will tell you all about it later. Mrs Butterby is right... You do look exhausted. Go and get some rest.’

  Beatrice’s expression changed to one of anxiety. ‘Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly... What if Percy comes here?’

  ‘What if he does?’ Aurelia went to Beatrice and hauled her to her feet. ‘We are here to support you, and he no longer has any authority over you.’ She hugged her, hard. ‘You are safe, Beatrice. Come along, up the stairs with you. And perhaps you’d better take that monster with you.’

  She indicated Spartacus, and Beatrice, blushing, scooped him into her arms, saying, ‘Oh. Of course. I’m sorry.’

  Spartacus put his ears back and grumbled, but he made no attempt to escape. Aurelia glanced back at Leah as she shepherded Beatrice out of the room.

  ‘Be sure of what you want, Leah. Do not allow him to bamboozle you with sweet words that disguise an empty heart. You deserve to be happy and you need not answer him straight away if you are unsure. Trust your instincts... They will tell you if he is sincere.’

  ‘She is right,’ said Mrs Butterby when the others had gone. ‘If His Lordship has truly discovered deeper feelings for you, he will be prepared to prove it and he will wait for your answer. You need to be certain. Aurelia never ceases to surprise me. Here was I, thinking she is as hard as nails with not a romantic bone in her body, but she clearly does believe in love.’

  ‘For others, maybe,’ said Leah, ‘but I am not so sure she believes in it for herself. She appears to regard her marriage as a purely business transaction. I cannot see her ever surrendering her own heart to a man.’

  ‘Well. Time will tell.’

  ‘Thank you for supporting our decision, Mrs Butterby. It means a lot. I know you are eager for us all to make the best matches we can.’

  ‘I feel it is my duty to dear Sarah’s memory, but I would not see any one of you marry unwisely, my dear. I want you all to be happy in your marriages.’

  ‘As do I. Do you know, I always hoped that one day I would marry for love, just as my parents did.’ Leah frowned. ‘Or so I thought. It was a shock to discover their union was an arranged marriage. May I ask... I understand why my mother agreed to the marriage, but was my father’s incentive a purely mercenary one?’

  ‘Not entirely. All three of your fathers were paid handsomely, of course, but there was also promotion, in your father’s case. He was a curate, and Lord Tregowan arranged for him to take over the living at the church in the village where you grew up.’

  So Papa wed Mama as a means to an end? He used her—and she used him, to give her respectability. But they still fell in love.

  Her understanding of the complexities of relationships shifted, and hope bloomed in her heart. Hope for her and for Dolph.

  At that moment, Vardy entered the drawing room and bowed.

  ‘Lord Dolphinstone has arrived, ma’am, and requests an audience with Miss Thame.’

  Leah’s stomach lurched.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Mrs Butterby. ‘Please show him up. Leah, do you wish me to stay with you, or would you prefer privacy?’

  ‘I should prefer to speak to His Lordship in private, I believe. Thank you.’

  Mrs Butterby smiled and hurried out of the room.

  * * *

  Dolph followed the butler upstairs to the drawing room, his stomach tied in knots. Last night, when he was with Leah, he’d been convinced she would forgive him and accept his proposal. But various conversations and comments by others at the rout had rocked his confidence—his simplistic view that her admirers consisted solely of fortune hunters had been shattered as it became clear he was not the only man who admired her for both her appearance and her character. How had he been so blinkered as to believe no other men would see her appeal? He’d lain awake half the night fretting he’d left it too late to win her.

  Now he must not only confess the truth about Rebecca and his blame for her suicide, but he must also convince Leah that he truly loved her. Would she believe him—and forgive him—after he hurt her so badly with that clumsy proposal at the Court?

  The butler showed him into the drawing room. Leah’s expression gave away nothing of her feelings, no hint of what her answer might be, her lovely blue-green eyes guarded. He longed to fling himself at her feet and to beg her to forgive him and to accept his love and his heart, but he could not. First, he must tell her the truth.

  ‘Good morning, my lord.’

  Dolph drank in her willowy form, clad in a simple primrose and white striped gown. Her shining red hair was loosely pinned, and she glowed with health. How had he been so slow to realise how much love he held in his heart for this woman? Love that now filled every cell and permeated every thought. How could he bear to lose her now? He would move heaven and earth, mountains included, to make her happy. To keep her content. So much he wanted...needed...to say. He opened his mouth, tightly reining in all that emotion swirling through him.

  ‘Good morning, Leah. I believe you are aware why I have sought an interview with you this morning?’

  Dolph bowed, cringing at his own stiff formality. He sounded as though he were about to interview her for a job. But what else could he do but revert to the manners expected of a gentleman? He did not want to place too much pressure on her. He owed it to her to help her understand everything before he placed his heart and his future happiness in her hands.

  ‘There is something I need to tell you first, however...’

  He fell silent as Leah held up one hand.

  ‘May we sit first?’

  ‘Yes! Yes, of course.’

  Dolph gestured towards the sofa. Leah glided across the room and sat down. About to move to a nearby chair, he changed his mind and sat next to her. She—almost imperceptibly—inched away from him, plaiting her fingers in her lap. His heart sank as she shot him a sideways glance.

  ‘There is something I must tell you first,’ she said. ‘It might change your mind about your intentions.’

  He bit back his instinctive denial that anything could change his intentions. She was deadly serious and he owed her the respect to listen to what she had to say first.

  ‘Very well. I am listening.’

  He could not tear his gaze from her restless fingers as they fidgeted in her lap.

  ‘We spoke yesterday about my good fortune and about the third beneficiary of Lady Tregowan’s will.’

  ‘I recall.’

  ‘She arrived this morning. Miss Beatrice Fothergill—’

  ‘Fothergill? Any relation to Sir Percy
Fothergill?’

  ‘Yes. No.’ She sighed. ‘That is what I wish to explain. Aurelia, Beatrice and I have agreed to openly acknowledge the reason Lady Tregowan bequeathed us her entire estate.’ She captured his gaze. ‘You will be the first to know. We are sisters. Well, half-sisters, to be precise.’

  ‘Half-sisters? You mean... Lady Tregowan was your mother?’ How had that remained a secret in Somerset society, especially when Lady Tregowan had never given Tregowan a child?

  ‘No. Lord Tregowan fathered all three of us. He arranged marriages for our mothers before any of us were born. M-my papa was not my father. I am illegitimate.’

  He’d noticed that hitch in her voice before when she spoke of her father—the man who raised her. And now he understood.

  ‘And this is what you discovered at that meeting in Bristol?’

  ‘It is.’ The look she sent him was frank. ‘As you may imagine, it took time to take in all the implications.’

  ‘Indeed.’ No wonder she did not race off to London straight away, quite apart from the added complication of him arriving home the very same day. And no wonder she had appeared distracted.

  ‘If you think this changes my mind about you, Leah...about wanting you as my wife...you are mistaken.’

  ‘But... I am illegitimate.’

  ‘Not in the eyes of the law or Society. Your parents were married when you were born; your father raised you as his own child. No one knows.’

  ‘But they will know. We intend to acknowledge each other as sisters. Mrs Butterby has counselled us against it, but we are as one on it. It will cause a scandal.’

  ‘A scandal?’ Dolph laughed and shook his head. ‘At first, maybe, but it will not endure. Society will absorb the news, gossip about it for a while and then move on to the next juicy titbit.

  ‘Leah—’ he took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing them to her warm skin, breathing in her familiar fragrance of lavender-scented soap ‘—this sort of thing happens more often than you can ever know. The morality of many in the haut ton can be summed up by one phrase: don’t get caught.’