An Untamed Governess For The Rogue (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Olivia Bennet

  Perhaps there is another way. If she could speak with Stuart herself, then maybe she could gain some information that Luke could use. Something less dangerous than going after this Sphinx. Driven by her strong belief that her role was to serve the family in any and all ways that she could, she decided to act on that belief. She did not want the Rowfex family to be brought to ruin by the highwaymen’s continued presence in the area, nor did she want Luke to risk his life to stop it.

  With the clock striking seven o’clock, and the children already in bed, Teresa slipped stealthily down the stairs and headed out into the bitter evening. A faint drizzle of rain drifted down from the dark sky, a frosty wind nipping at her cheeks as she rushed along. Drawing the collar of her cloak tighter around her face, to hide her features and keep out the cold, she made her way towards the stables.

  You must keep your wits about you, Teresa. It is late, and it is dark, and this is no place for a young woman. She repeated the words as she found her way to the outbuilding a few minutes later.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the guards on duty. They turned to her in confusion.

  “Yes, Miss?” one replied.

  “I was wondering if I might have a moment with the prisoner. Lord Luke sent me to see if I could garner any further information.”

  “His Lordship sent you?” the second guard frowned.

  She nodded. “He thought the prisoner might respond better to a more feminine approach.”

  The first guard shrugged. “Well, I don’t suppose it’s our place to argue. We’ll be right out here if he gets agitated. Call for help if you need it.”

  “Thank you.” Teresa took a deep breath as the guards opened the door and let her in. She knew this was a dangerous risk to take, but she needed to be bold for Luke’s sake. And before he could take his life into his own hands.

  What she did not know, as she entered the gloom, was that Luke had already taken those treacherous steps. Even now, he was many miles away, already determined to pursue the information that Stuart had given him. And he was about to walk right into the mouth of the Sphinx’s den.

  * * *

  Luke pulled his horse to a halt on the banks of the River Irwell, where the borough of Salford and the city of Manchester became divided, the former stretching away beside the murky water. He did not know where to begin, nor whom he was actually looking for, and fear crept across his skin as he urged his horse along the embankment.

  “Excuse me,” he said, upon encountering the first semi-friendly face. A young boy with grubby cheeks and a threadbare cap looked up at him with wide, worldly eyes.

  “Aye, Sir?” he replied.

  “Might you have heard of a fellow called the Sphinx?”

  The boy smiled. “And what if I have?”

  “Might you point me in the right direction of this man?”

  “I could… but it’d cost you, Sir.”

  He frowned, taking a coin from his pocket and holding it at a safe distance. “You may have this if you tell me where I can find the Sphinx.”

  “Hand it to me, then I’ll tell you,” the boy shot back.

  Luke chuckled. “I was not born yesterday, young man. You will have the coin when you tell me where I can find the Sphinx, and not a moment sooner.” Necessity had sharpened his ability to defend and protect himself. It had been an early lesson in life, with Edmund to contend with. Indeed, Edmund would certainly have fallen for this trickery, but Luke would never have allowed a vagrant child to trick him out of a coin.

  “Then maybe I won’t say a word,” the boy muttered.

  “You will, boy, or you will be short a coin. And if you think to fool me, I will send men after you. My guard is a short distance away, watching from the shadows. If you attempt to deceive me, he will see to it that you are punished.” The lie leapt effortlessly from his tongue.

  Immediately, the boy’s manner changed. Fear morphed his features into a mask of obedience, his eyes peering behind Luke into the shadows of the riverbank. “You’ll find him at this hour at Number Fifteen, Mariner’s Way. Head down the bank and take the first-right. Follow that path until you see the Red Lion Inn. Turn left there, and you’ll be on Mariner’s Way.”

  He smiled. “Thank you.”

  “And… my coin?”

  Luke placed it in the boy’s palm, his eyes narrowing. “Remember what I said, boy. If you have deceived me, you will come to regret it.”

  “I ain’t telling no lies, Sir. You’ll find the Sphinx there.”

  “Very well.” Luke pressed on, feeling proud that he had managed to navigate the locals. Salford was so eerie and strange to him, a dense fog rolling across the settlement. Indeed, he vowed never to return here, if he could help it.

  Following the boy’s directions, he hurried his horse through the crowded evening streets of Salford. Ignoring the remarks of furtive bystanders and the grasping hands of drunken revelers, he kept his head down and his course steady.

  Mariner’s Way was a gloomy street, the two parallel rows of houses almost too-close together. Many did not have any numbers upon the door, making counting difficult. However, as he reached the halfway point, he turned and saw a black-painted door with ‘15’ carved roughly into the wood. It had partially splintered, some shreds sticking up from the knife-carved numbers. Luke shuddered, fear spiking through his heart as he turned towards the door.

  I should have allowed Edmund to join me. The two brothers had something of a disagreement about what to do with Stuart’s information. Edmund had been eager to wait until they could find out more about this mysterious Sphinx, but Luke was not prone to patience. In truth, he feared that this Sphinx may discover that he had become a target, and would shrink away into obscurity until it was safe to re-emerge.

  Taking a shaky breath, he knocked on the door and waited. This is for the benefit of my family. I must do this if I am to free them from tyranny and return Teresa’s necklace to her. My family rely on this being a success, as much as I do.

  The door creaked open, revealing an elderly woman. “Yes?” she said sharply.

  “I am here to see the Sphinx,” Luke replied, feeling slightly foolish. After all, he did not know this person’s true name.

  “Is he expecting you?”

  Luke shook his head. “No, but I must speak with him.”

  “And who are you?”

  “Mr. Frederick Booth,” he replied, his second lie that evening tripping easily off his tongue. “I am nobody, really, but I am here to resolve a great injustice.”

  “Let him in,” a voice echoed from beyond the elderly woman. It was deep and masculine, with a subtle rasp that spoke of a pipe-smoker.

  “Very well,” the woman sighed. “In you go.” A hint of ‘don’t say I didn’t warn you’ lingered in her tone, which increased the pulse of fear in Luke’s veins. His heart was already pounding like a runaway horse, his throat dry and tight.

  Steeling himself, for the sake of his family and Teresa, he walked through the open doorway. A narrow corridor led through to a low-ceilinged, stone kitchen, with a smattering of hay spread across the cold flagstones. A fire burned in the hearth on the far side, where a single man sat, perched on the edge of a milking stool. He was not what Luke had expected.

  “Mr. Booth, was it?” he rasped, turning to Luke. He was a plump fellow in his late-thirties, with a mane of curly auburn hair, and piercing green eyes. His cheeks were ruddy, and freckles dotted the pale complexion of his face. Indeed, he looked rather jolly, which took Luke by complete surprise. He had been expecting fire and brimstone, and the Devil himself.

  “Yes, Sir,” he replied anxiously.

  “Take a seat.” He gestured to the stool beside him, which stood a little bit too close to his seat. Shaking off his discomfort, Luke crossed the kitchen and sat down on the uncomfortable stool. His eyes did not leave Luke, who gazed into the fire, conscious of him watching.

  “Are you the Sphinx?” Luke asked, clearing his throat.

  He chuckled. “
Call me the gatekeeper.” His accent was mildly Irish in origin, adding to the jolly image of him. Luke was finding it hard to reconcile the idea of a fellow who could ruin so many lives with the man who sat before him. And yet, it seemed as though he was not talking to the organ grinder. Instead, he had been saddled with the monkey.

  “Do you know the Sphinx?” Luke said.

  “Let’s start with somethin’ else first,” the man replied. “How ‘bout ye tell me yer real name, then we can get down to business?”

  “I told you my name.”

  “Aye, and I’m the King of England.”

  Luke pursed his lips in frustration. “Very well… my name is Lord Luke Morton.”

  “Of the Rowfex Estate?” The man smirked, his mouth missing so many teeth Luke had lost count.

  “Yes.”

  “So that’s why yer here, then?”

  “Listen here, are you the Sphinx or not?” he replied tersely. He wanted to be sure that this was the fellow he needed.

  “And what brings a high-and-mighty sort like you to my door? It’s not often I have visitors such as yourself. It’s usually vengeful wives and disgruntled blackguards who lost money in a bet. You’ve even got all your teeth, which is new for me,” he teased.

  Luke smiled coldly. “Are you the Sphinx or not?”

  “I told ye, think o’ me as the gatekeeper. Ye tell me what ye be wantin’ and I’ll see to it that the Sphinx hears yer complaint.”

  Luke balled his hands into fists. “I want the Sphinx to remove his men from the land near my estate. And I would like him to return a precious item that was taken from a… friend of mine. It is a necklace and must be given back, as it was stolen.”

  “From a lover of yours?”

  He grimaced. “No, nothing of that sort. She is a friend, that is all.”

  “That’s what they all say,” he mocked, laughing huskily. “Who is she?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Who does the necklace belong to? I’ll see if it’s worth the Sphinx’s time to be handin’ such an item back.”

  Luke kept his gaze fixed on the licking flames, for fear of lashing out. “I would prefer not to tell you the identity of the one whom it belongs to. As for the highwaymen, you may tell your Sphinx that I wish them to be removed. Let him send me the terms, and I will meet them.”

  The man smirked. “I doubt you’d be able to afford it. Keeping the peace don’t come cheap, Sir.”

  “Nevertheless, you will pass my message on.” He took out a few more coins and pressed them onto the nearby table. “That will be your fee for doing so.”

  “Well, this is a very unexpected delight,” the man purred. “This golden boy shows his true colors at last. Money is the way te any fella’s heart. But ye already knew that, didn’t ye?”

  “Can you help or not?” Luke was growing tired of this man’s arrogance.

  “Certainly, I can. However, my services come at a steeper price than that,” he replied.

  “Name it,” Luke said, turning.

  He chuckled. “There’s a tempting offer, Lord Luke.”

  He knows I am the second son, or he would not have addressed me so… how does he know so much? Evidently, this Sphinx had chosen his victims carefully, ensuring he did his research before installing his men in the estate’s vicinity. It sent shivers of apprehension through Luke’s veins. What else did the Sphinx know? Did he know about Teresa?

  “I have more money with me. You may have all of it, if you will see that the message is clearly delivered. I am willing to offer any sum to have those wretches removed from my family’s lands, and to have that necklace returned.” Luke forced down his fears, refusing to let it show in his tone. This man would not have the satisfaction of watching him squirm.

  “I’ll take yer money, Lord Luke, but the Sphinx might be wantin’ more than that. I hear that lady, whom you’re so intent on protectin’, is so very pretty, with that precious heart upon her cheek,” he said, with a dark chuckle. “Perhaps, the Sphinx’ll be wantin’ a taste of what was stolen from him, before he gives your lands and that necklace back.”

  This cannot be good. Remember, keep your wits about you.

  “Nothing was stolen from the Sphinx,” Luke said coolly.

  “Aye, well that’s where yer wrong. You robbed him of his right to take what he wanted,” the man replied. “And he’ll be wantin’ that, if he’s te give the necklace back. I can’t say aught for the rest of it, as concerns yer lands, but he’ll be sendin’ ye his terms soon enough. He’s been waitin’ fer yer visit.”

  Luke gaped at the fellow. “What?”

  “He knew ye’d be comin’, Sir.” The man laughed. “Did ye think he wouldn’t know ye’d taken one o’ his men? The Sphinx knows all.”

  “Where is he?” Luke roared.

  “Temper, temper.” The man grinned, showing more of his decayed teeth. “Ye’ll hear from him right enough, as I’ve told ye. Patience, little Lord. Ye’ll get yer terms in the days to come. There, ye may come to some arrangement that is satisfying to everyone.”

  Luke tried not to shudder, but he was shaken to the core. “And that is all the satisfaction that I am to receive? A faint promise that this villain will correspond with me in due course?” In truth, he had absolutely no intention of being patient, but he knew he needed some time to come up with a plan. One that would keep Teresa out of harm’s way. How hard can that be? His stomach sank with dread.

  “A word of warning, Sir,” the man said. “The Sphinx don’t take kindly te arrogance, and he don’t take kindly te folks hollerin’ at his people. So calm yerself and leave before I decide not te pass yer message on. Ye’ll hear from the Sphinx when he’s good and ready.”

  Luke scraped back his stool and stood sharply. “If I do not hear from him by Monday of next week, I will send my men after you. They will steal you in the night, when you least expect it, and I will pry what I need out of you. I do not like to be tricked, and I never allow deception to go unpunished. You may tell your Sphinx that and urge him to be swift in his reply.”

  His words were eerily reminiscent of the ones he’d spoken to the vagrant boy on the side of the riverbank. A twist of guilt turned in his chest—how he wished he had not spoken so coldly to him, when he was simply a poor creature trying to earn a coin.

  The man smiled. “Very well, then I’ll tell the Sphinx what ye wish him te know. But don’t say I didn’t warn ye about losing yer temper. And don’t think that pretty little thing o’ yours is goin’ te be spared. The Sphinx don’t like losin’ out, and ye took somethin’ mighty precious from him.”

  Luke scowled. “Well then, you may tell him that he does not frighten me. We will come to an arrangement, like gentlemen, and I will not accept any terms that will cause suffering to any person. If it is money he desires, he may have it, but everything else is prohibited.”

  “Good luck with that, Sir.” The man cackled.

  “I will remember you. And, perhaps, I will ask that you be removed, into the bargain,” Luke said bitterly, his heart stabbing with concern. He was starting to wish he had not come here, for at least Teresa would have been kept out of danger. And the guards would have protected the roads, for as long as they could. But he had cast all of that aside for the sake of his own pride and determination.

  It might mean telling Teresa what has happened here. And it may mean I have to urge her to run. It would be a last resort, but it brought him some vain comfort to know that she would be protected, no matter what. Even if he had to let go of her to keep her safe. Perhaps I may even run with her.

  “Are you done?” The man leered.

  “Oh yes, I am quite done with you.”

  “Well then, it’s been entirely me pleasure. Or, at least, it will be.” His brown smile made Luke feel nauseous, though he did not plan on seeing this face again, not if he could help it.

  “I hope you suffer for your part in this,” Luke said, stalking towards the door. “And remember… next Monday.”


  The man nodded slowly. “I might forget, unless ye offer me more fer rememberin’?”

  Luke took out some more coins and left them on the side-table. “Will that suffice?”

  “Aye, that’ll do nicely.” He cackled, raspy with tobacco smoke.

  Without another word, Luke exited the kitchen and headed down the narrow corridor. Opening the door, he stepped out into the cold night air, dragging it into his lungs and letting it cool his hot cheeks. Fury and embarrassment mingled with victory, his chest heaving as latent panic coursed through his veins.