Forever Yours (The Forever Series #1)

by Cheryl Holt

  Did Faith have a friend visiting? In all the time Camilla had known Alex’s half-sister, she’d never had a guest. Who could it be?

  “You there!” she snapped.

  The woman halted and pushed away from the stairs. She came over and peeked into the parlor.

  “Yes? May I help you?”

  “Who are you and what are you doing at Wallace Cottage?”

  “I work and live here,” the woman said. “Who are you and what are you doing in our parlor and drinking Miss Wallace’s wine?”

  “You work here?” Camilla scoffed. “In what capacity?”

  “I am governess to Mary and Millie Wallace.”

  Camilla shook her head in derision. “I doubt it.”

  “It’s true. I’m their governess. Why would I lie?”

  Camilla’s irate gaze roamed down her torso. She was lithe and shapely, and to Camilla’s disgust, very, very beautiful.

  When Alex had mentioned he’d hired a governess, that he’d gone behind Camilla’s back and chosen the servant without her input, it had never occurred to her that he would behave so recklessly.

  Any sane person knew you didn’t hire a young, pretty governess. It was just asking for trouble. Every footman would be sneaking away from his duties to flirt and chat. Every bachelor in the neighborhood would start stopping by which would irritate all the single ladies—and their mothers.

  And that didn’t begin to include the male guests at the manor who were bored in the country and looking for entertainment. Nothing tantalized a lazy, indolent gentleman more than an innocent female who was off-limits and unavailable.

  What had Alex been thinking? He hadn’t been, that was the problem, but wasn’t it her own fault?

  After the prior governess had fled, he’d told her to find another one, but she hadn’t been especially interested so she’d delayed forever. He’d grown tired of her procrastination and had proceeded on his own.

  This is who he’d picked? This gorgeous, poised girl? She would remain over Camilla’s dead body!

  “What is your name?” Camilla demanded.

  “Miss Barrington. What is yours?”

  Camilla rose, delighted to discover that Miss Barrington was very petite, and Camilla towered over her. Camilla was tall and statuesque, and she liked to use her greater size to intimidate the housemaids. It always kept them in line.

  “I am Camilla Robertson.”

  “Oh.”

  Miss Barrington scowled, then her impertinent gaze slithered down Camilla, just as Camilla’s had slithered down her. Her expression was so impudent that Camilla considered slapping her.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Robertson,” the little witch had the audacity to say, “but I shouldn’t have to meet with you.”

  Camilla gasped with offense. “What do you mean? And might I suggest you be very, very careful in how you answer that question?”

  “I’m a respectable gentlewoman, and while I agreed to work for Mr. Wallace, I never agreed that I would interact with you or that you would have any authority over me. I really can’t abide it.”

  She flashed a regal glower, as if Camilla had been dismissed, then she spun to depart. Camilla had never been more shocked or incensed.

  “Hold it right there!” she raged.

  Miss Barrington turned around. “What is it? Please be brief. I’m not feeling well, and I need to lie down.”

  “In the middle of the afternoon? You should be busy at your post. What kind of sluggard are you? If this is how much effort you plan to exert on Mr. Wallace’s behalf, you’d better think again.”

  “I’ll talk to him about my schedule,” Miss Barrington said. “I’ll ask his opinion.”

  “You cheeky, defiant harridan! How dare you sass me!”

  “I’m not sassing you, Miss Robertson. I simply believe you to be very immoral and disreputable so you and I won’t have any dealings at all.”

  Camilla’s temper soared to a fevered pitch, and she’d never been so livid. “I can see you don’t understand who is in charge here.”

  “I see very well,” the bold shrew replied.

  “No, you don’t so you won’t be able to continue as our governess. I don’t tolerate insolence.”

  “Then I’m quite sure you won’t like me.”

  “I’m quite sure I won’t either,” Camilla concurred. “I’ll pay you a month’s wages as severance, but you’ll leave in the morning for London. I’ll have a carriage stop by at nine to take you into the village. I’m certain you can manage to get yourself onto the mail coach with no difficulty?”

  Miss Barrington cocked her head as if Camilla had spoken in a foreign language she didn’t comprehend. “Are you firing me, Miss Robertson?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Miss Barrington chuckled. “I’m not employed by you.”

  “You presume I can’t throw you out on the road?”

  “As with your concerns over my schedule and level of effort, I’ll discuss it with Mr. Wallace.”

  Camilla stomped across the floor, and she was furious to realize that Miss Barrington wasn’t cowed. She shook a finger in Miss Barrington’s face.

  “You listen to me and listen good…”

  Before she could finish her thought, Faith popped up in the foyer. From her angry frown, it was clear she’d heard their quarrel.

  “Camilla,” Faith fumed, “what are you doing?”

  “I am conferring with the new governess.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re being a complete idiot which exhausts me. Alex hired her, and he wouldn’t like knowing you’re pestering her.”

  “I don’t answer to you, Faith. This is none of your business.”

  “We’re fine on our own, and we hardly need you barging in. You have guests over at the manner. Aren’t you busy?”

  “I supervise the twins upbringing and education,” Camilla seethed, “and it is a task your half-brother specifically delegated to me. I am checking on their welfare by assessing their teacher. You will not order me about.”

  “Well, this is my home, and as I’ve explained over and over, you’re not welcome in it.”

  Faith went to the front door and yanked it open, indicating she expected Camilla to slink out as if she were a bad dog being shooed outside. Camilla never let anyone boss her, and she might have stayed to underscore that point, but Faith wasn’t worth the bother. And despite what Faith imagined, the house wasn’t hers.

  It was Alex’s, and Camilla would address the issue of the governess’s departure with him.

  She pushed by Miss Barrington, pausing to say, “Nine o’clock tomorrow, Miss Barrington. Don’t make me come back.”

  “I’ll take it up with Mr. Wallace,” she snottily retorted.

  “I don’t think you will, and if you suppose you can convince him to countermand my edict, you have no idea what sort of bog you’ve fallen into. You’ll be gone like that!”

  Camilla snapped her fingers, and Faith rolled her eyes.

  “Go away, Camilla,” Faith said. “We don’t want you here.”

  “The twins are my responsibility.”

  “No, they’re not,” Faith insisted. “Miss Barrington is watching them now so your dubious services are no longer required.”

  “You’ve insulted me for the last time,” Camilla warned.

  “I’m certain that’s not true,” Faith sarcastically said. “I’m betting I’ll insult you on thousands of occasions in the future.”

  “I intend to speak to Alex about your behavior. You better prepare yourself.”

  “I’m not a child, Camilla,” Faith huffed, “and Alex would never treat me like one so we both know it’s an idle threat. He’s incredibly happy with Miss Barrington, and he won’t heed any complaints about her.”

  The way Faith emphasized the words incredibly happy sent a frisson of fear down Camilla’s spine. What was happening? Why had Alex hired the pretty, tedious girl? Faith seemed to fee
l he would protect her from Camilla, that he would side with Miss Barrington against her.

  But if that’s what Faith assumed, she was in for a rude awakening. Camilla and Alex were tight as a drum, and no one could come between them. He sought her advice, cherished her loyalty, and had put her above every other person in his life. Faith and the paltry new governess were so far down on the list of what mattered to him that he couldn’t even see them.

  She stormed out. Her carriage was still in the drive, but the driver had been waiting so long he’d climbed down and was loafing in the shade. When she emerged, he leapt up and hurried over to assist her, but she was too aggrieved to let him. She clambered in on her own.

  He scampered up to the box, and she glared out to find Faith standing on the stoop.

  “Evil witch,” Faith muttered loud enough for Camilla to hear.

  Then she slammed the door. The carriage lurched away, and Camilla pretended not to have noticed her spinning the key in the lock.

  * * * *

  “Is Miss Barrington all right?” Mary asked.

  “She’s fine. Her tummy was just upset.”

  “You’re sure that’s all it is?”

  “I’m sure.”

  As the twins had been strolling down the beach, Abigail had jumped up and left. Her rapid exit from the picnic had brought them running. They looked terrified and alarmed.

  “Help me pick up everything,” he told them. “We’ll carry it back to the house for her.”

  Typically, they were very obedient, but for once they didn’t move. They stared at the path as if they wanted to race after her to check on her condition.

  “Girls,” he said, “come on. Help me clean up. We’ll finish our picnic tomorrow. Miss Barrington will be good as new, and she’ll be able to join us.” They hesitated, and he said again, “Come on.”

  He grabbed the blanket, and it spurred them to pitch in. They loaded all the food and plates into the basket, then they started off.

  “Do you like Miss Barrington?” He didn’t need to ask. Their devotion was clear in their expressions.

  “We like her very much, Mr. Wallace,” Millie said.

  “Maybe more than very much? Maybe a lot?”

  They didn’t reply. They were always shy around him, and it was his own fault. He rarely spent time with them. Every second in their company reminded him of the tragedy with their mother.

  They weren’t to blame for the debacle, but apparently he was very petty. He looked at them and saw Hayden Henley’s blond hair and blue eyes which were disconcerting.

  He didn’t mean to be horrid to them, but his lack of attention had guaranteed that he was. They’d lived with their mother until they were six years old, and he’d hardly ever thought about them. Then, shortly after he’d returned from exile, Eugenia’s cousins had visited him and pleaded on their behalf.

  Eugenia had been wallowing in shameless circumstances, renting a squalid apartment where she would abandon them for days at a time as she traipsed off with various paramours or grew so inebriated from her opiates that she forgot to go home.

  Technically, he was considered by the law and the Church to be their father, and normally he wasn’t cruel or irresponsible. He’d brought them to Wallace Downs and deposited them in the cottage with Faith—even though she’d sputtered and complained about having to share her space with them.

  Wallace Cottage seemed to be the location where the Wallace men kept their dirty little secrets.

  He paid others to watch over them, but none of them had done a very good job. Abigail was the best by far—there was no comparison—and before he’d barged into their picnic, he’d lurked in the woods and had spied on her as she’d chatted with them.

  She resembled them so much that they could be her own daughters, and the sight of them huddled together had rattled him. It had made him ponder all he’d lost, and it provided him with a view of what his life could have been like if he’d waited to wed, if he’d chosen a better bride.

  What would it be like to have a steady, faithful wife like Abigail Barrington? To have daughters like Mary and Millie, daughters who were polite, sweet-tempered, and easy to please?

  Ever since the moment he’d discovered Eugenia’s adultery, he’d sworn he would never marry again, that he would never have children. But for some reason, Abigail was stirring strange emotions he didn’t know how to quell.

  She had him wondering if he might be a different man from who he believed himself to be. Perhaps he’d like to be a husband after all. Perhaps it would be possible someday to have a wife and children and be content in that sort of domestic arrangement.

  He gazed down at them and chuckled. “You can admit that you like her a lot. I like her too. A lot.”

  They both nodded, and Mary said, “We like her. A lot.”

  Thrilled by the prospect, they all grinned.

  “Will she stay, Mr. Wallace?” Millie asked. “She promised she would, and we’ve been hoping it’s true.”

  The expectation on their faces was so powerful that it was almost painful to witness.

  “Yes, she’s staying. She’s staying forever.”

  He probably shouldn’t have used the word forever, but he was certain it was an interval they couldn’t fathom. They would understand him to mean for a really, really long time, and that’s precisely what he intended. For the foreseeable future, she would remain at Wallace Downs.

  “Let’s hurry,” he said. “We’ll check on her to ensure she’s lying down and taking care of herself.”

  “If she’s not,” Millie asked, “will you scold her for us?”

  “Definitely.”

  “And will you make her lie down?”

  “Yes. She has to obey me. I’ll be very firm with her.”

  Satisfied with his answer, they nodded again, then walked over to the path. In a trice, they were at the rear door of the cottage, and they blustered in, loaded down with blanket and basket. They proceeded to the front of the house and dropped everything in the foyer.

  Faith was in the parlor, but there was no sign of Abigail.

  “Have you seen Miss Barrington?” he asked.

  “She wasn’t feeling well,” Faith said. “She went upstairs to rest.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  He still couldn’t figure out what had happened to her. One minute, she’d been perfectly fine, and the next she’d been too sick to tarry. They’d all eaten the same food so he didn’t believe it had nauseated her. Yet something had obviously distressed her, and he wished he knew what it was.

  He stared down at the twins. “Is that better? She’s in bed, and we didn’t even have to send her to her room.”

  Faith flashed a look that made Alex uneasy, then she smiled at the girls. “Why don’t you head to the kitchen? Find out if Cook will prepare a snack for you.”

  “May we have cake?” Millie asked.

  “Yes,” Faith replied. “Tell him I said you can each have two slices.”

  They scampered off, then stopped to execute a delightful curtsy.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Wallace,” they said in unison.

  “Goodbye, girls.”

  “Will you come to our picnic tomorrow?” Millie asked. “We hope you will. With Miss Barrington, they’re ever so fun.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He waved them away. “Go get that cake.”

  His permission granted, they ran off.

  Faith grabbed his arm and led him outside into the yard where they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “Is Miss Barrington all right?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer his question, but responded with, “Why are you here?”

  “She invited me to their picnic.”

  “Really?” She oozed skepticism.

  “Yes, really.”

  “I don’t suppose your decision to attend is due to how pretty she is.”

  “She’s very pretty. I won’t d
eny it.”

  “You’ve never loafed with any of their other governesses.”

  “Why would I have?”

  “Why indeed?” she sneered. “Leave her alone, Alex. She’s too good for you.”

  “Of course she is.”

  “She’s terrific with the girls, and I like her. I want her to stay, and you have Camilla to keep you warm at night. She’s much more your style. Don’t be stupid about this.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He wasn’t about to discuss his absurd fixation, and he remembered how Price had hurried over to see Faith earlier that morning, how Alex was suddenly worrying about the actual state of their friendship. “Speaking of being stupid, what is going on with you and Price?”

  She scoffed. “Me and Price? Price Pendergast?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know who I mean. Why is he over here all the time?”

  “He’s over here because he’s welcome. He never annoys me, and he’s always cordial company.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “Yes, that’s it. What else could there be?”

  He studied her, wishing they were close enough that she’d confide in him, but their past made a deeper bond impossible.

  “Just be careful,” he said.

  “Why would you feel compelled to warn me about him?”

  “He’s handsome and charming, and he’s vastly experienced at seduction. I would hate to have him tempt you with his usual nonsense.”

  She snorted with derision. “As if he could.”

  “Are you assuming he’ll grow attached? Has he claimed he’d consider a permanent connection to you? Because if he has, you should be aware that—”

  She cut him off. “Oh, for pity’s sake. I don’t need a lecture from you about Price Pendergast. Listen. When Miss Barrington came back from the beach, Camilla was waiting for her in the parlor.”

  “Here? At the cottage?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “According to Camilla, she had to check on the new governess.”

  “I take it she wasn’t pleased.”