An Untamed Governess For The Rogue (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Olivia Bennet

  He smiled despite himself, feeling his breath catch as she smoothed the cloth across his chest to wipe away the remaining streaks. He loved the sensation that her gentle touch brought him, though he hated the sadness in her eyes. Even in her happiest moments, he still saw that glimmer of grief, as though she were haunted by something that would not abandon her.

  “My brother hates me for that,” Luke said. “He thinks me reckless and silly.”

  “I would be inclined to agree.” She chuckled quietly. “But I do not believe Lord Harpington hates you. It is merely the natural conflict of brothers. I have seen it many a time. But there is love beneath that, I am certain of it. If you were to peel away the layers, you would see that he cares for you, as all your family does. Never forget how important they are, for you will never know their true value until you lose them.”

  He heard the agony in her voice. “Have you lost those dear to you, Miss Dowels?”

  Her breath hitched in a stifled sob. “Many times over, My Lord.”

  “Your father?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  “And your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you lose them?” He had always thought that term to be foolish—one did not “lose” a person. It was not as though they could be retrieved. Death was a permanent vacancy, forever gaping in a shattered heart. But he did not know how else he might phrase it, without sounding coarse.

  “I would prefer not to say,” she said, soaking the blood-drenched cloth in the bowl of water. It turned the clear liquid pink, the ripples distorting her reflection as she stared down into the turbulent surface.

  “As is your right. Although, I hope that, one day, you may confide in me.” He had known she had secrets, but he had never expected them to be so sad. It was partially the reason he did not care to push the matter. And, in truth, he did not know if he would ever be able to uncover the details that caused her such discomfort, but that would be entirely at her discretion.

  “Perhaps, My Lord.”

  “So, you are alone in this world?” His heart broke, to think of the grief she must be suffering through.

  “I suppose I am,” she replied.

  “Not anymore, Miss Dowels.” Luke covered her hand with his, pressing it against his heart. “Do you care for me?”

  “Please… do not put me in such a position,” she whispered.

  “Does that mean that you do?”

  Her teeth grazed her lower lip, sending a quiver of excitement through Luke’s battered body. “Must you really ask that? Is it not already obvious?”

  “I would like to hear you say it,” he replied. Please say that you do.

  She looked up. “I care for you, My Lord. Likely more than I ought to.” A knock at the door distracted them from their private reverie. Miss Dowels jumped backward, as though she had been stung. As Luke covered himself with the bedclothes, she hurried to the far side of the room, taking her ointments with her.

  With her back to the door, she made a show of toiling away, pounding some herbs, using a mortar and pestle. But Luke did not miss the single tear that rolled down her cheek, filling his heart with bittersweet joy. He did not wish to see her cry, but if those tears meant what he hoped they meant, then perhaps he could make this one exception.

  Just then, Doctor Partridge walked in, with the Duke and Duchess following after him. I fell… I must tell them that I fell and hurt myself on a sharp branch. The wound looked less obvious, now that it had been cleared of blood, but he did not know if he would be able to make a believable excuse for its appearance. Even his mother was not so oblivious as to ignore a clear hole made by a pistol ball.

  “I ought to take rooms at the Rowfex Estate, for all the visitations I am making,” Doctor Partridge declared.

  Luke smiled. “Apologies, Doctor. I promise you this will be the last time.” I promise you the same, Miss Dowels.

  “Well then, let us see what damage has been inflicted, shall we?” Doctor Partridge set down his medicine bag and began to examine Luke. All the while, his parents looked on with perplexed expressions.

  “Yes, I suppose we must,” Luke replied, wishing fervently that he could have done more to capture the highwayman. But that satisfaction would come, in due time. He was certain of that. There was nothing upon this earth that would stop him now. Even if it was the last thing he did, he would return Miss Dowel’s necklace to her. And maybe, just maybe, it would prove him worthy of her affections.

  For he did not care where she had come from, or what her station might be. All he knew was that he adored her, and those feelings only continued to grow, with every moment he spent in her presence.

  * * *

  Within a week of the incident, with Luke recovering well from his injury, there was a headline in the newspaper. The Rowfex household had been in chaos after the incident, hailing Lord Luke as both a fool and a hero for stepping into the conflict. The Duchess was particularly fraught, for it seemed as though Luke’s propensity towards injury created a constant source of worry for her.

  The lie about falling from his horse and hitting a sharp branch had hoodwinked the Duchess, however, though the truth weighed heavy on Teresa. It distressed her all the more, knowing that Luke had only acted because of a promise he had made to her. No matter how dearly she wished to have her necklace returned, she did not want that to come at the price of Luke’s life. He needed to be careful, and she prayed he would heed her warning in his future endeavors to catch these men.

  Teresa saw the headline first, as she was waiting for the children to come downstairs. They were to go for a brisk walk. She happened to see it, as the paper was laid out for the Duke to read that morning: Terror on the Roads. Is Nowhere Safe?

  Her heart sank like a stone. The Duchess will not be pleased to hear this. Already, the poor lady had been fretting because nobody had replied to her invitations to the anniversary ball, which was due to take place in under a week’s time.

  She scanned the first part of the story, which mentioned the two young ladies who had resided temporarily at the Rowfex Estate, Miss Harriet Wilks and Miss Juliana Wilks. The sisters had been on their way to visit a nearby residence when the highwaymen had stopped their carriage and sought to dishonor them. However, they had recovered quickly and insisted they be on their way back home as soon as possible, with an armed guard to accompany them—provided by Luke and Lord Harpington, at the behest of the Duke.

  There was no mention of Luke or his family by name, but Teresa understood the allusion as she read on: A noted family in the local area were generous enough to come to the aid of these young ladies, but one must ask oneself—was it too little, too late? Can there be any comfort, knowing such villains have overwhelmed the roads? It is clear that all those who travel must be vigilant, avoiding such areas wherever possible.

  One thing was for sure, the Rowfex family was in dire straits, if they hoped to maintain their favored position in polite society without ridicule. After all, who would want to risk life and limb, simply to attend a ball? No, if this continued, it would mean that the Rowfex family were placed into an involuntary state of isolation. That worried her. If Luke read of this, it would only strengthen his resolve to capture these wretches, and she knew that would not come without its dangers.

  She had attended on him, as before, but Teresa had noticed a slight change in the way the Duchess spoke with her about the matter. There was a wariness that had not been there before, as though she did not entirely like the situation, although she acknowledged Teresa’s sincere, selfless support for any family member. Have I been too obvious in my affections? Teresa had done her best to keep her growing emotions to herself, but Luke had been so insistent. She could not have lied to him.

  And yet, she knew she had to be cautious. Nothing could come of such a relationship, and she did not wish to bring scandal upon herself or this household. They had treated her with such kindness and generosity. No, she would rather have swallowed her feeling
s entirely than allowed them to ruin everything she had gained in coming here. I must be strong, she told herself sternly. I must not allow my fantasies to run away with me. For that was all they could ever be… fantasies.

  At that very moment, Luke appeared from the library. He looked pale and drawn, the injury causing him some trouble in the cold weather. Despite his pain, he managed a smile in her direction.

  “Miss Dowels, how nice to see you,” he said wearily.

  “How is your arm today, My Lord? I intended to attend on you this morning, but Her Grace asked me to let you sleep awhile longer.” That was not entirely true. She had gone to his door and peered in, finding him in a peaceful slumber, and had not wanted to disturb him. The Duchess had not said a word, but Teresa thought it would be better if she made up an excuse.

  “It plagues me, but it will improve—all thanks to your care,” he replied. “Are you quite well? You look as if you are somewhat distracted.”

  Teresa dropped her chin to her chest. “It is a sensitive matter.”

  He walked over, his eyes glimpsing the paper on the tabletop by the front door. He reached out and held the paper for a moment, glancing from left-to-right as he read the words before him. Teresa waited, holding her breath. From the expression on his face, she reasoned he had come to the same conclusion she had.

  “Mother will not be pleased to hear this,” he said, sighing. “But it means that my brother and I must bolster our endeavors and bring these wretches to justice.”

  “It may be too late for that, where the ball is concerned.”

  He shook his head. “Not if I have anything to do with it. I will not let this ruin my mother’s efforts. This will all be settled soon enough, and there will be nothing to fear. You will have your necklace returned, and my mother will have her ball. Even if she parades me in front of a crowd of eligible young ladies.” He cast her a strange look, full of longing.

  “And if you are wrong?” She ignored the latter part, her heart lurching with fruitless hope. She could never be one such lady. It would not be permitted.

  “I am not, Miss Dowels. I will work tirelessly until it is done.” His voice was tight with emotion. Although Teresa had escaped the brutality of those highwaymen, she knew it could not be easy for Luke to reconcile, with his part in it. Had he not arrived when he did, there was no telling what might have befallen her. And that would plague him relentlessly. It had already taken root in his heart. She could see it on his face, how keenly he wished to destroy those evil fellows.

  “But what will you do?” Her voice trembled. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, as he had done to her, in his bedchamber. But courage failed her. Instead, she held his gaze, biting her bottom lip with anxiety.

  “I will think of something. There must be someone in the local area who knows who these men are, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.” His eyes were steely, his voice rich with anger.

  She sighed. “I am sorry, My Lord. I am sorry that it has come to this.”

  “Why should you be?” His expression softened. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were the victim in this. And if it had not been you, it would have been another defenseless young lady. It will not stand.”

  “What a terrible infliction for Her Grace, though. She will be very distressed when she reads of this. Already, she is worrying for her ball. And it is such a tragedy that a man has died because of those awful men. That poor coachman. I do not even know his name.” Teresa murmured. Nothing could alter the fact that a man had been murdered, and two young ladies had been assaulted on the road near the Rowfex Estate. She wished she could change it, somehow, but it was out of her hands. Indeed, it had never been in her hands.

  He looked at her strangely. “Do you wish you had not come here, Miss Dowels?”

  That caught her off-guard. “I… I cannot say, My Lord.”

  “Do you feel as if you no longer wish to be here?” Where are these questions coming from?

  “No… no, I still wish to remain here.” She lowered her gaze. He was looking at her so intently that she could hardly bear it. It reminded her of his attentions in the fresh air, after he had come down to the kitchens in a rather inebriated state. He had wanted to kiss her then. And now, she was the one who wanted to be kissed. If only to bring her some sense of peace, as though she truly belonged here.

  “I am glad to hear that, Miss Dowels. Gladder than you could possibly know.” He took a step closer and Teresa felt her throat constrict, the breath leaving her lungs.

  “You should go to Lord Harpington and speak with him about your intentions,” she murmured, her voice barely a squeak. She could not be near him a moment longer, lest she did something she would ultimately regret. They were too exposed here. Anyone could be watching them.

  He smiled, as though he knew what she was thinking. “I will do what I can to distract my mind from dark thoughts, allowing them to spur me on instead of making me wallow. For now, however, I think I must take to my chambers for a time. My shoulder has a sudden ache.”

  “I think that would be for the best, My Lord.”

  Solemnly, he turned around and retreated up the staircase, disappearing into the shadows of the house. Teresa watched him go, her heart and body aching for him. His anger and determination were palpable, as was his desperate frustration. In truth, she feared for his sanity.

  Do not lose yourself on my account, Luke… I am not worthy of such pains. All her life, she had helped those in her village, never afraid to stand up for those who could not stand up for themselves. The sufferings of the most needy would haunt her forever. But that was not the only thing that haunted her. She had learned to come to terms with the fact that she could not rescue everyone. I will not force those ghosts upon you. Tears stung her eyes. How could she ever expect the gift of love, when she had failed to help those in greatest need?

  Chapter 11

  Despite the ugly news that had been heralded across the newspapers, the RSVPs had filtered back to Louisa. To her delight, and surprise, a great many of them had confirmed their attendance. She had been so worried that she might have to cancel the anniversary ball, to celebrate her thirtieth year of marriage, but it seemed that fortune was starting to favor her. And Louisa knew how fickle a mistress fortune could be.

  And so, the evening of the ball arrived quicker than she could have expected, with all the preparations in place. Her sons had arranged to have an armed guard escort all the guests along the main road that led to the Rowfex Estate, and she found herself feeling tentatively happy as she made her way downstairs. She had donned her favorite gown and could not wait to begin the celebrations.

  And, perhaps, there will be a young lady or two, amongst the guests, whom my sons will take an interest in. She always kept that thought in the back of her mind, looking for every opportunity. However, the relationship between Miss Dowels and Luke had given her further cause to pursue a suitable match for her two eldest. She knew Miss Dowels was sensible enough to ignore Luke’s affections, but Luke had always been a headstrong individual. And she did not know if she could trust him not to stray towards unsavory temptation. Namely, the young governess.

  Had Miss Dowels been of appropriate station, she would not have minded such a union. Miss Dowels was pretty, with a sharp mind and a charming manner, considerate, loyal, and sympathetic but it was wholly perverse to imagine Luke seeking the hand of such a lowly creature. No matter how idealistic he might have been. No, a bride must be found, as soon as possible—for each of them. And tonight was the perfect night for such pursuits.

  * * *

  Mother works quickly, I must grant her that. Edmund lingered in the hallway, hoping to avoid the merriment that was taking place in the ballroom. He had spotted Luke lurking in the hallways, looking equally depressed about the entire debacle, as he was also expected to find suitable ladies to entertain that evening. “Potential wives” as their mother had put it.

  As ever, he felt self-conscious about the scar down the
side of his face and the distinct drag of his leg as he walked. Not that it matters… they will see only my wealth and prospects. It was the sole bridge that traversed his current state and his future. It should have felt secure, but it did not. The Duke had been having many private conversations with Luke recently, and it gave him cause for concern.

  The paranoia had been edging into his mind more and more of late. He supposed a rational explanation would be that the Duke had visited with Luke due to his injuries, but he could not shake the feeling that there was more to it. Then again, if his mother was trying to arrange a marriage, perhaps there was nothing to worry about. She would not endeavor to do so if there was something underhand going on.

  The arriving carriages had delivered a bevy of young ladies to the Manor, where they were paraded in front of the morose brothers. Their mother, meanwhile, had been waiting to greet them all on the steps. She had chosen a flowing gown of midnight-blue satin, a sapphire dangling from her elegant throat. She had been bustling about the house all day, to check that everything was as it ought to be.