An Untamed Governess For The Rogue (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Olivia Bennet

  “Lidderdale?” Luke gasped.

  “Yes, Darling. Lidderdale,” The Duchess replied.

  “But Lidderdale Castle is barely twenty miles from here.” Luke turned to Teresa, her stomach plummeting like a stone.

  The Duchess frowned. “Is it? I had quite forgotten. Anyway, Lord Fontaine was duly dismissed from his household, and has not been seen in polite society since. The last I heard of him, he had joined the military and had ventured to Spain. Good riddance, I should say. May a cannon do what Lady Broxbourne’s father could not.”

  “Mother!” Lord Harpington exclaimed.

  “What? I am only speaking the truth. Such a heinous crime deserves a capital punishment, as far as I am concerned,” she replied with a shrug. Suddenly, her eyes fell upon the book that was spread out across the table. “Where did you get that?”

  “I took it from Father’s study,” Lord Harpington explained.

  “Well, you should not have done, not without asking my permission first.” She looked suddenly nervous, as though there were something in those pages that she did not want anyone to see. Indeed, a second later, she lunged forwards and swiped the book from the table, slamming it closed. A puff of dust rose up, making her wrinkle her nose.

  “It is just a book, Mother.” Luke gave an anxious chuckle.

  “And it is my book, Luke. You should not have taken it. It is not yours to do with as you please.” She hugged the book tighter to her chest, her behavior only increasing Teresa’s curiosity. What could be written in those pages that she wished to keep to herself? A terrible family history, perhaps? A buried secret from her lineage, or that of her marital family? Whatever it was, Teresa sensed none of them would ever see that book again.

  But at least we have what we need. This Lord Fontaine sounded like precisely the individual they were looking for, regardless of the Duchess’ musings that he had joined the military. Surely, that would be the perfect masquerade for someone who wanted to disappear? It would certainly give Lord Fontaine the excuse he needed to stay hidden. If people thought he was out of the country, he would have no trouble running covert operations from a dingy hovel in Salford.

  * * *

  Louisa clamped the book to her chest as she hurried from the drawing room, her breathing ragged. She barely made it up the stairs before she had to pause, her knees trembling. For as long as she had been in this house, she had ensured that this book remained under lock and key, so how had her sons happened upon it? She did not know, and it terrified her.

  How much did they read? She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to force her panic down. They had not shown any change upon their faces and had looked at her as they had always done. So, perhaps, they had not read too far into the book. The thought brought her some relief, though she realized she had likely piqued their curiosity by behaving in so strange a manner.

  Slowly, she opened the book and turned to the page that had been thumbed more times than she cared to admit. With tears in her eyes, she looked over the words, each one reopening a long-closed scar in her mind. Unable to bear it, she slammed the book shut again and wrapped her arms around the leather bindings, pulling it close to her heart.

  It does not matter now. She would not allow them to find this book again. They would never get to see what lay within its yellowed pages. No, those ghosts had been buried much too deep to be resurrected now. And, truly, she planned to take those secrets to her grave.

  Chapter 22

  “That was peculiar, was it not?” Luke glanced between his brother and Teresa.

  Edmund nodded. “Very peculiar indeed. I have never seen her act in such a way.”

  “What inspired such fear?” Teresa said.

  “That is the most peculiar part,” Luke replied. “I cannot think of anything that could make her behave like that. It was as though the book took on a life of its own, compelling her to snatch it away from us.”

  “But why?” Teresa pressed.

  “That is not for us to know, I suspect,” Edmund said. “And we do not have the time to deliberate over it. We must pursue this Lord Fontaine as quickly as we are able. You insisted that the Sphinx respond to you by Monday, correct?” He looked to Luke, who nodded.

  “Yes, that is correct.”

  “Then we have but three days to remedy this,” Edmund muttered. “I do not imagine that the Sphinx is a patient gentleman, and if you do not respond immediately, you may rest assured that he will come for us and claim whatever he believes to be his due. So, we must work swiftly.”

  “What do you suggest?” Luke had ideas of his own, but his feelings towards Edmund had softened somewhat. He wanted to let Edmund take the lead. After all, Edmund was always eager to prove himself to their father, and Luke reasoned this might be the perfect opportunity for his brother to display his prowess.

  “We should ride to Lidderdale Castle immediately,” Edmund replied. “If anyone knows where Lord Fontaine may be, it will be his family. Even if they dismissed him, he is still their kin. They may be reluctant to aid us, but we must not leave without some sort of answer as to his whereabouts.”

  Luke nodded. “An excellent plan.”

  “I will be joining you,” Teresa interjected. Luke opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped him. “If I remain here, whilst the two of you are absent, that will leave me open to danger. It would be safer for me if I were to stay at your sides. Mrs. Dolan can take temporary care of the children, and I am sure the Duchess will not have any qualms, given the predicament I am in.”

  “I would not be so sure of that,” Edmund murmured. “Then again, you make an excellent point. We have sworn to protect you, and if we abandon you here, then you will be open to any furtive attacks.”

  Luke gaped at his brother. “You cannot be serious?”

  “What choice do we have?”

  “And you think she will be safer out on the road?” Luke shot back.

  “She is still in the room.” Teresa held his gaze, a defiance glinting in her eyes. It left him in a rather tricky situation, for though he did not want to leave her behind, he did not like the idea of taking her with them. True, she was brave and bold and fearless, but that did not mean she would be safe, out in the open.

  Edmund smiled. “Actually, I do. The Sphinx will not be expecting us to pursue this path, and he certainly will not be expecting us to take Miss Dowels away from the house. No, he will expect us to barricade her in, so he cannot reach her.”

  “In the military, a moving target is always the hardest to hit,” Teresa said. “My father always told me that.”

  “Your father was a military gentleman,” Edmund reminded himself.

  She nodded. “He was.”

  “Did he see warfare in his time?” Luke was not sure he liked the admiration with which Edmund was gazing at Teresa. He certainly did not need a rival for his affections. Is this why he strove to drive me away from Teresa, so he might woo her himself? That seemed unlikely, but not impossible. After all, he had much less choice in whom he married.

  “He did, My Lord,” Teresa replied.

  “Did he return to your family afterwards? I know you said that your mother and father were no longer living, but you did not say what had befallen them.” Edmund’s tone was soft, irking Luke all the more.

  Teresa smiled sadly. “He did. It was not soldiers who killed him, in the end.”

  “Do you mind me asking what did?” Edmund continued.

  She will not tell you. Though he had pried somewhat, Teresa had never told Luke the story of her parents, and he was fairly certain she would not reveal her secrets to Edmund.

  “My father had recently returned from Spain. He was exhausted and unwell, but he refused to take to his bed. Instead, he spent those first days by the fire in the parlor, in the armchair. We used to teach many of the village children there, as we had many books, so they would come to our house whenever they were able.”

  Teresa explained, “Papa was in a great deal of pain, though he tried n
ot to show it. He would not eat. Finally, he admitted that he was sick, after a fever began, and took to his bed. Mama and I devoted all of our time to his care. A week later, the fever died, but it was replaced by red spots across his mouth, upon his tongue, and down his throat.”

  Luke and Edmund exchanged an alarmed glance.

  “Two days’ later, the lesions in his mouth festered, and began to spread all over his face. In two more days, his body was covered with them. The pustules covered his hands, even the palms; his legs and feet, even the soles, like hundreds of red beads.” Teresa paused for a moment. “Soon after, Mama became ill. Once she succumbed to the high fever, she was never herself again.”

  Looking up at the men, she implored them, “You must understand, both my parents were relatively young, both five-and-thirty. They did not look old. Mama and I were often mistaken for sisters rather than mother and daughter. Having Papa home finally, was what we had prayed for. That first day, we were so happy. Then, when they were both ill, I spent hours praying for them to get better, to be who they were a fortnight earlier. We had made so many plans. So many things to do together, once Papa returned home.”

  Teresa was silently crying now, the tears running down her cheeks. “There were so many things Mama still wanted to do. Places she wanted to go and see. Books she wanted to read. She had wanted a real couch, not a bench, and a rug to cover the cold floor, for so long. We had talked about it so many times—when I realized she would never get that couch or rug, I started crying and could not stop. I wept for days. It was so unfair! Why did it happen to Mama? She could not die! I would not let her! There was too much she still wanted to do!”

  “By the time she was covered in pustules, her breathing was tortured. I would watch her breathe in, then out. Then wait for the next breath. Each was a hard-fought battle. I was devastated by what the disease did to them. I kept hoping, and praying, for a full recovery but more and more came to realize they would never return to the happy, beautiful man and woman I had known my whole life.”

  Teresa continued, “I would sit with them for hours, providing what comfort I could, which was never enough. I nursed them round the clock, sleeping in snatches when I passed out from exhaustion. Cleaning them, giving them spoonfuls of water, doing anything I could to ease their suffering, constantly praying for them. My whole world was reduced to that one room.”

  Luke and Edmund listened, still as statues. Teresa said, “Finally, they were no longer people, the ones I had known all my life, with normal wants and desires and lives to live. They were reduced to the essence of their spirits. I reached out to those spirits and tried to support them. I prayed, I cried, I talked to them. I knew it was coming but I still was not prepared when they both died. It was on a Sunday. They were both dead when I opened my eyes with the dawning of the day, after dozing for a few hours during the darkest hours of the night.”

  Luke gazed at her, his heart aching. You poor, poor creature.

  “I could not gather myself. I did not know what to do. I was in a daze. Nothing seemed real. I went to get the vicar, which was the first time I had left our cottage in over three weeks. That was when I found out that the smallpox epidemic had hit the entire village and all the farms around it. Almost everyone blamed my Father for bringing it to the village, and they may have been correct. But with the number of people that were struck with it, and the speed at which it happened, some thought that it may have come to the village on market day, brought by merchants from the south. Half the village folk said the disease arose from a miasma, while the rest called it Divine intervention.”

  She choked on a sob. “There had even been a fair that first week, that just about everyone attended. It took almost two weeks before they shut down the weekly market, and the shops, the school, and village hall, even church services were suspended. Once that happened, many could not work, adding stress to an already terrible situation. There had not been an outbreak of smallpox in our area for years, but this was a strong, hard affliction—a killer, by any other name. No one had seen anything like it.”

  “Half of all the children in the village and nearby farms died. Almost all had fallen sick and many of those that lived were doomed to have recurrent horrors for the rest of their lives. Some went blind in one or both eyes, all had terrible scars, many of them ended up with deformed hands, the joints so swollen that they would never be able to do ordinary tasks.”

  Teresa paused. Luke knew she was living those horrors again, in her mind. “What hurt the most, though it may be selfish to admit, was seeing my Mama, who was so beautiful, so smart, and so joyful, who I thought would always be with me, get so sick—to see her suffer so much. I found myself praying to God to release her from the pain, to let her leave her earthly encumbrance and join Him in Heaven. How did I ever get to that point—where I prayed for her to die?” Teresa turned to Luke, horror-filled eyes proof of her inner turmoil. Her voice caught in her throat, her shoulders sagging.

  Luke stared at her in shock. He had never heard this story before. Why was she revealing it now, with Edmund in the room? It confused him, though he did not say so out loud. Instead, he listened to the rest of her tale. Perhaps, it had nothing to do with Edmund. Perhaps, she had simply found her moment to admit the truth of her past.

  “I was no longer welcome in the village after that,” she continued. “It was partially the reason I took this employment, as I had nowhere else to go. If I had remained, I would have been chased out of the village.”

  “Is that why you would not tell me what had happened to you?” Luke reached for her hand, even though Edmund was watching. He took it in his own and held it tight.

  She nodded. “I was so deeply ashamed, even though I was innocent of any wrongdoing. In truth, I was worried you would think less of me, or that you would be frightened by me, if you were to discover what truly occurred.”

  “Why would you think that?” Edmund interjected. “If anything, it would only have made us admire you more.”

  Luke shot him a dark look. “That is precisely what I was about to say.”

  She shrugged, oblivious to their silent conflict. “My village frowned upon my part in the whole event and treated me like I was somehow responsible for all of those children dying because some came to our house for lessons, and because I lived through the epidemic and they didn’t. I feared this household would be the same. Besides, after I lost what mattered most to me, I realized I no longer wanted anything for myself. I would dedicate my life to serving others in need. That is a somewhat intense philosophy, and were I to mention it, you would have wondered if I were telling the truth.”

  Luke looked at her in awe, with a dawning realization that she could help him be a better person. He did not simply want her—he needed her.

  “I am so very sorry, Miss Dowels,” he said.

  She nodded. “As am I. But, at least now you may understand why I am so invested in this. I could not save them, but perhaps I can save those that the Sphinx intends to harm.”

  To begin on that journey of betterment, he was determined to keep her out of harm’s way. “I admire your courage, but you cannot join us on this journey, Miss Dowels. However, we will bring that wretch back, so you may have your justice. You are his victim, too.” He knew it was not quite what she wanted to hear, but he could not allow her to put herself at risk. “You will see the Sphinx punished, I promise you.”

  Edmund nodded. “As do I.”

  “Thank you… I suppose I must be satisfied with that.” Teresa fixed her gaze on Luke’s, making his heart leap into his throat. She did not turn to look at Edmund—a nuanced motion that let Luke know that her affections were solely for him. He longed to kiss her, but he knew that might be a step too far with Edmund observing.

  “So, shall we depart now?” Edmund said.

  Luke shook his head. “We shall depart presently. However, I should like a moment alone with Miss Dowels, if you would be so kind? There is something I must say to her, regarding her fami
ly.”

  “Whatever you have to say, you may say in front of me,” Edmund insisted.

  Luke cast him another warning glance. “I simply need a moment.”

  Edmund sighed in exasperation. “Very well, I will leave you to your private discussion, though I do not care for it. I will ensure the horses are readied. I expect you to meet me at the stables in ten minutes, Luke, do you understand?”

  Luke smiled. “I will meet you there.”

  Clearly annoyed, Edmund rose from the settee and crossed the room, disappearing from sight. Luke waited a moment longer, listening for the sound of Edmund’s footsteps retreating towards the stables. Once he was certain that Edmund was truly gone, he leapt up and ran for the drawing room door, turning the key in the lock. He hurried back across the room to the far window, closing the drapes so nobody could look in from the gardens.