by Aston, Alexa
“Strategizing? Hoping to impress Wellesley when he arrives?” teased Gray.
“The future Duke of Wellington is an impressive man,” Reid said. “England is lucky to have someone of his caliber coming to lead us in Spain.” He withdrew a letter from his coat’s pocket. “This is from him, the man himself. Read it.”
Gray did and handed it back. “Wellesley makes several valid points.”
“He does. And we’ll be ready when he and his troops arrive.”
“When who arrives?” Burke breezed in, his hair mussed. He raked his fingers through it to tame the wild locks.
“Wellesley,” Reid said. “Where have you been?”
Burke grinned. “What if I told you scouting some of the enemy?”
“Bed sport with a foreign lass doesn’t count for scouting,” Gray observed dryly.
His friend’s grin widened. “You never know, Gray. I say it’s best to be prepared on all fronts.”
He pulled the parchment from his coat. “I just received this.” He handed it to Reid as Burke came around and leaned over his friend’s shoulder. The two men read it at the same time. When they finished, both gazed at him with astonished looks.
“Obviously, I must resign my commission and take up the responsibilities for the Grayson family estate and whatever children there are. Three at the last count, before we left for war.”
“At least the estate will pay you,” Burke pointed out. “You’ll be the Earl of Crampton in all but the title itself. Let that stick in Stinkin’ Seymour’s dead craw.”
“I hate to abandon the two of you,” Gray admitted. “Not to mention my men. I know what honor tells me I must do but returning to England and this situation is the last thing I would choose.”
“Duty to family should always come first,” Reid said firmly. “I would be gone from here the next day if I received word that my father had passed. These children need you, Gray. They’ve lost both parents in a very short amount of time. They will be hurting. They will look to you for comfort and continuity.”
“What if I can’t give it to them?” he challenged. “The oldest—the new earl—already favors Seymour so much. I fear it will be hard to look upon him and feel anything but enmity.”
“He’s not Stinkin’ Seymour, Gray,” Burke said. “No other bastard is and thank goodness for that. He’s a little boy who needs to be taught how to be a good man.” Burke placed his hand on Gray’s shoulder. “I can think of no finer man to do so. Other than Reid, of course. We all know he’s ten times the man we mortal men are.”
The three laughed and then Gray said, “I will put in my papers today and leave in the morning for the coast. I’d prefer to participate in the upcoming battle but I suppose I can’t afford to be killed now.”
Burke chuckled. “That’s the only thing good about being a third son. No duty or responsibilities to others. No need to wed. Don’t worry, Gray. I’ll fight for the both of us.”
He nodded and exited the tent. Gray would be leaving the only life he’d known and the only family he had for the unknown.
*
Gray galloped along the road on the rented horse and turned west, heading down the long drive that led to Gray Manor. It had taken him a week to reach Kent. He would send a letter to Mr. Bonham tomorrow, informing the solicitor of his arrival in England. He only hoped the man would come soon. He didn’t know how comfortable he’d be staying at the estate.
He planned to ride the entire land tomorrow and take in the state of things in order to be better informed for when he met with Bonham. It would also to be prudent to meet with Masters, the Grayson butler. Servants knew everything that occurred in large houses and none more so than a butler or housekeeper. He didn’t know who the current housekeeper might be but he had a deep trust in Masters and knew the retainer would be able to help Gray understand the situation.
Riding around the house, he went directly to the stables and was met by a groom he didn’t recognize. Since he’d been gone from Gray Manor over a decade, that didn’t surprise him.
“Can I help ye, sir?”
“I’m Major Grayson.” He swung from the saddle.
The groom’s eyes lit up. “Ah, yes, Major Grayson. Mr. Masters said ye’d be coming home. I’m Sable, the assistant head groom. May I take yer horse?”
“Yes, please.” He handed the reins over. “I rented the mount in Dover and will need to see it returned.” He mentioned the place where he’d gotten the horse.
“I’d be happy to take care of that, Major,” said the groom. “I’m familiar with it since I grew up in Dover.”
“Thank you, Sable.”
Gray returned to the house, entering from the rear and cutting through the kitchens. No servants were in sight, which surprised him because the family dinner hour had yet to begin. Then he realized there was no family that would gather in the dining room with Seymour and his wife dead. Children would be fed in the schoolroom and put to bed. He paused and heard lively conversation coming from the servants’ dining hall, along with the clink of forks against plates. Mrs. Rook, if she were still the family cook, must have moved up the time the servants ate. Not wanting to interrupt one of the few times they had a moment to themselves, Gray decided to head for the library. He wanted a good brandy and to sit for a moment and collect his thoughts before making his presence known.
He’d almost reached the library when a footman came into sight, a startled look on his face.
“It’s all right,” Gray said. “I’m Major Grayson. I’m expected.”
Entering the library, he went straight to the crystal decanters and poured himself a drink. He sensed the footman’s presence and turned around.
“You can let Mr. Masters know I’m here once the servants have finished their evening meal.”
“Mr. Masters has been ill, sir. I’m Smith. I’ve been filling in for him.”
“I see,” he said, concern filling him. “It isn’t anything too serious, I hope.”
“Mr. Masters caught a nasty cold and then broke his arm. He’s been laid up for two weeks. The doctor said he’ll be fine. He’s on the mend.”
“I would like to see him first thing tomorrow,” Gray said. “Would you send the housekeeper in once she’s finished dinner?”
The footman shuffled uncomfortably. “We don’t currently have a housekeeper. Mrs. Penney left a few weeks ago. Miss Nott is handling things now. Seeing to the running of the household and all.”
“Why isn’t there a housekeeper?” Gray demanded, worried with Masters down how the household was even functioning.
“She left,” Smith said. “Abruptly. With Mr. March.”
Frustrated, he asked, “And who is Mr. March?”
“The estate’s manager. They left together. I’m mean together, if you understand. Mr. March found a new position in Cornwall and Mrs. Penney went with him straightaway.” Smith drew a deep breath. “It’s all right, though. Miss Nott is in charge of the estate.”
Exasperated, he demanded, “Who the bloody hell is Miss Nott?”
“I am,” a voice in the doorway said.
Gray turned and saw the most stunning woman he’d ever seen walking toward him.
“It’s fine, Smith. I’ll take it from here.”
The footman looked at her in relief and hurried from the room.
Miss Nott—whoever she might be—came close to Gray. He was two inches over six feet and she appeared about a foot less in height. She had a trim figure, with a good bosom and small waist, though the brown dress with cream cuffs looked hopelessly out of fashion. Dark brown hair was drawn away from the delicate bone structure of her face and fastened in some knot at the nape of her neck. She had high cheekbones and full, pink lips that were the most kissable he’d ever seen.
But it was her vibrant green eyes that stopped him in his tracks. They were vivid, bright as emeralds, and assessing him with a keen intelligence. He feared she would somehow find him lacking. The eyes stirred a memory somewhere deep within h
im, as if he’d met this woman before, but he couldn’t think of any circumstances when that might have occurred.
Who could she be? With her regal bearing, she might be a duchess for all Gray knew. Was she some relative he hadn’t known about, perhaps a cousin to his deceased sister-in-law who’d stepped in for a time to help out. Or—God forbid—Seymour’s mistress who’d been set up somewhere in the house and now had taken it over upon her lover’s death.
Finding his voice, he said, “I’ll ask again. Who exactly are you, Miss Nott?”
Chapter Five
Charlotte’s heart beat rapidly as she studied the tall army officer. This was the man who’d been the boy she’d been acquainted with two decades ago. He was a few inches over six feet, with extremely broad shoulders and a narrow waist, accented by the uniform he wore. His dark hair gleamed with chestnut highlights and she knew it would be a deep, burnished red outdoors. High cheekbones that could cut glass gave way to a strong, steady jaw.
But it was his brilliant, blue eyes that gave her pause. They seemed to see right through her, down to the depths of her soul. His eyes also seemed haunted, as if he’d seen things he wished he could forget. She supposed the war had affected him greatly. He no longer looked like the boy she remembered, one who laughed easily. By the looks of him, this man hadn’t laughed in years.
“We received word from Mr. Bonham, the family solicitor, notifying us that you would be arriving soon.” She indicated a chair. “Won’t you have a seat, Captain?”
“It’s Major,” he said abruptly. “Major Grayson. And shouldn’t I be inviting you to sit?” He gazed at her steadily.
“I’m sorry if you believe I’ve overstepped my bounds,” she apologized as she slipped into a chair.
He took one to her left, filling it with his large frame, his knees sticking out and almost grazing hers. He repeated, “Who are you, Miss Nott?”
Charlotte folded her hands and placed them in her lap. “I was hired by the earl as a governess to Lady Harriet and Lady Jane, as well as doing some tutoring of Viscount Warren, Rodger, the new earl.”
“The boy’s not at school then?”
“No, he’s been much too ill to be away from home,” she revealed.
“His asthma?”
She noted the worried look on his face. “Yes. You know about it?”
“I was made aware of it the last time I was home. Five years ago,” he added just as she was about to ask. “He exhibited signs of it then. I felt sorry for the boy.”
“His poor heath hasn’t affected his mind. Far from it. He’s one of the brightest lads I’ve ever been around. You must prepare yourself, though, for when you see him, Major. His health is quite fragile. The boy may never reach his majority.”
Her words took him aback and she realized if Rodger died, this man would become the new earl.
He ran a hand through his hair, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, and then said, “The footman. Smith. He said something about you running the household. And he made a preposterous statement about you handling estate affairs, as well.”
“Because I am,” Charlotte said calmly.
“What?” he cried, disbelief written across his face.
“I arrived shortly after Mrs. Penney, the housekeeper, and Mr. March, the estate manager, vacated the premises. Without notice, I might add. They both abruptly quit and left for Cornwall, where Mr. March supposedly had gained a new position. Someone had to step in with the death of the earl and countess. It fell to me.”
He rested his large hands atop his thighs and leaned forward. “To you. The governess. Running an earl’s household and handling his entire estate.”
Charlotte smiled. “A governess worth her salt can do anything she puts her mind to, Major.”
“I don’t see how a governess would know a thing about guiding a large household. It has nothing to do with how to comport oneself or how to read or do sums.” His disdain for her was obvious.
She gazed at him a long moment, not wanting to explain how she’d run her father’s household before she was ousted by her own blood kin. Her story was hers and she would keep it private.
Instead, she said, “I applied the lessons I learned and honed while I served as companion to the Dowager Duchess of Exbury, whose household I managed while in her employ. I know when silver needs to be polished and the best method to use to make the pieces gleam. I scheduled regular airings of mattresses and the cleaning of rugs. I planned menus and ordered food for the larders. I know when to rotate sheets and towels and how often to replace them. There’s nothing I’ve left unattended during my time here, I can assure you, sir.”
He looked taken aback by her description of various household duties.
“I also learned about farming and husbandry,” she added, deciding to give him bare details. “I am knowledgeable enough regarding new techniques which I’ve read about in various tracts and would be happy to help you experiment with new breeding methods. I’ve also had time to meet with a majority of your tenants, as well as make observations regarding the books.” Charlotte concluded with, “I will be happy to get you up to speed on the workings of the estate, Major, since it will be your task to oversee it.”
Charlotte decided to keep quiet for now regarding her suspicions that Mr. March was bleeding funds from the estate. Major Grayson looked as if he already had enough to handle, based upon their conversation.
He shook his head. “You’re no ordinary, run of the mill governess,” he observed.
“No. I’m not,” she agreed. “Tomorrow, once you’ve rested, we can go over estate matters and you can see the profit turned. I have a few ideas on how to make things more profitable. It would behoove you to hire a new manager, however, as well as a housekeeper. While I haven’t minded stepping into these roles, there are only so many hours in a day. I don’t wish to neglect my charges. They are the true reason I’m at Gray Manor.”
She stood and he rose. “Shall I see a tray brought for you? And hot water sent to your rooms? I’m sure after living on the battlefields for so long that a hot bath would be something you might desire.”
Charlotte suddenly saw the man peeling away the layers of clothing he wore and sinking into a tub. She felt a blush rise on her cheeks and dug her fingernails into her palms, trying to distract herself from such wicked thoughts, ones that had never occurred to her before.
“Yes. A bath and meal would be much desired.”
“Knowing you were coming, I’ve had the earl’s suite of rooms prepared for you.”
Major Grayson frowned. “That’s unnecessary. Besides, shouldn’t my nephew take those rooms?”
“I have spoken with Lord Crampton regarding that and he wishes to remain where he is for now. I think he finds it comforting to have his own things about him and not reside in the chambers where his father did. We discussed it and with you gaining guardianship over the children, Lord Crampton thought those rooms would be more appropriate for you.”
“I see,” he said gruffly, and she wondered how close he’d been with his brother.
“I’m sure you know your way to your new rooms, sir. I’ll have a meal and hot water sent up to you directly.”
“Perhaps we can breakfast together tomorrow and you can begin filling me in on the state of affairs.”
“No, I’m afraid that’s not possible. I breakfast with the two young ladies each morning,” she explained. “It’s important that we keep to our routine.” Charlotte hesitated. “They are . . . high-spirited children and have needed a steady hand these past few weeks. Especially with the death of the parents.”
“How long have you been employed here, Miss Nott?” he asked suddenly.
She’d dreaded this question. “I came to work the day the earl and countess passed. I have been here close to three weeks.”
She knew the information startled him and he tried to compose his handsome features.
“I see. Well, plan to meet with me before you dine with my nieces. I hope you’re
not opposed to rising at such an early time.”
“Not at all, Major. I prefer an early start to my day.”
“Then meet me at six-thirty in the small breakfast room,” he ordered.
“Very well. I’ll see to your tray and bath now.”
Charlotte left the library, wondering if Major Grayson would keep her on.
Or not.
*
Gray finished the food that had been brought to him. The leg of mutton was seasoned perfectly. The fresh bread and round of cheese were a welcomed accompaniment. Food in the army had been tasteless. He’d tried whenever he had a chance to find some local who would sell him something—anything—so he wouldn’t constantly be thinking of filling his belly. Guilt flared within him, knowing he’d left his men behind to fend for themselves. He only hoped they would find a better commanding officer than he’d been. Though he’d had huge successes, it was the few failures that stood out in his mind.
And his nightmares.
Servants now came carrying a myriad of buckets. He’d almost hoped the beautiful Miss Nott might supervise them but she was nowhere in sight. The outspoken governess intrigued him. When he thought of a governess, he pictured a colorless little mouse, one who floated on the edges of a family’s life and never had much to say.
Miss Nott was far from that.
Once again, he thought of her tremendous beauty. The flawless skin. The perfectly-shaped oval of her face. The green eyes and full lips that dominated her face. The rich, shimmering hair that he would love to pull from its restraints. She’d only mentioned his nephew and the two girls, which led Gray to believe those were the only children.
“Your bath is ready, Major Grayson.”
He looked up and saw all but one servant gone.
“I’m Parker, sir. I’ll serve as your valet, as I did to Lord Crampton.”
“I don’t need a valet,” he grumbled. “I’m perfectly capable of bathing and dressing myself. You’ll have to find something else to do other than coddle me.”
Hurt filled the man’s eyes. “I see. Well, then I’ll leave you to it.” He turned and exited the room.
