An Untamed Governess For The Rogue (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Olivia Bennet

  “Now, we may have some privacy,” he said, turning back to Teresa.

  She smiled up at him. “And what, pray tell, do you plan to do with ten precious minutes?”

  * * *

  Teresa squealed with delight as Luke sprinted over to her, his arm gripping her about the waist as he pressed her down onto the settee. She smiled up at him, her heart pounding with desire, as he leaned in and kissed her passionately, his mouth coaxing hers open. As his tongue moved against hers, her hips moved in the same rhythm, eager to feel that exquisite friction from Luke’s body.

  “I love you, Teresa,” he murmured against her neck, as he raked kisses across her bare skin. “I wish we had longer.”

  “As do I,” she breathed, drinking him in. “I love you, so very much.”

  “I will never let any harm come to you. I swear to you, here and now, that I will protect you in any way that I must, to keep you safe.”

  She tried to quell the nerves that bristled through her. “I pray you do not have to.”

  “And once we have destroyed this Sphinx, I will ask for your hand in marriage.” He kissed her fiercely.

  She pressed her hands against his chest, pulling away slightly. “What did you say?”

  “I will ask for your hand in marriage, as soon as we have the Sphinx in custody.” He smiled down at her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Do not toy with me, Luke.”

  “I am not. I promise you, as soon as this is over, I will see to it that you and I may be wed. Even if we must elope, I want no other wife but you. I love you.”

  Her heart felt as though it might burst. “You mean it?”

  “I would not say so if I did not.”

  She grasped his face in her hands and pulled him down, kissing him with every morsel of her being. After what happened in her village, it had given her cause to believe herself unlovable, and unworthy of such a gift. And yet, here was Luke, loving her, and promising marriage. It was everything she had ever dared to hope for, if not more.

  Perhaps, losing her mother and father had been her penance. She kissed Luke more deeply, savoring every moment. They were about to enter unknown territory, and there were no assurances that they would emerge from the encounter unscathed. And she was determined to make the most of the definite time they had left.

  Chapter 23

  “Where is he?” Edmund muttered to himself, as he waited with the horses in the yard beside the stables. His leg ached terribly, making him irritable. Trying to distract himself, his eyes glanced towards the outbuilding, where Stuart Bollands remained in captivity. I will deal with you upon our return.

  He was about to stride back inside the house to collect Luke in a dark cloud of frustration, when his brother rounded the corner of the house and approached. He did not know what had delayed Luke, nor did he care to ask. It would only have embarrassed Miss Dowels, and though he never evaded an opportunity to mortify Luke, he could not do the same to her.

  “Apologies, Brother,” Luke said. “Shall we depart?”

  Edmund scowled. “Yes, I suggest we do.” Part of him was disappointed that they were leaving Miss Dowels behind, for he would have liked to see her ride. Then again, he knew it was for the best. It would not do to put a lady in harm’s way.

  Indeed, he did not know where this sudden affection for Miss Dowels had come from, though he suspected it had something to do with seeing her cry. There was something about her vulnerability that made him want to be near her, if only to stop her tears once more. Alas, he knew it was foolish to grow attached to Miss Dowels. Even if she had not been so close to Luke, she would have been an inappropriate match for him.

  Mother has likely already selected a suitable young lady that she wishes me to wed. And he knew he would have to do his duty, when the time came, as all young gentleman of high birth had to. Especially those in his position, as the eldest son. In truth, he had never endeavored to seek love for himself, but seeing the way Teresa looked upon Luke, he was beginning to wonder if he was missing out on something vital.

  Turning his attention back to the task, he mounted Palaimon and settled himself in the saddle. Taking up the reins, he dug in his heels and set off down the driveway, with Luke following after him.

  Focusing on the road ahead, they left the Rowfex Estate behind. However, his mind lingered awhile on his mother’s strange behavior with the book. They had left a note for her, to avoid any unpleasantness regarding their departure. Still, he could not shake his thoughts of her. She had acted very strangely indeed. And, deep down, he knew the reason for her discomfort, for he had seen more of the book than he had admitted. But that was her secret to tell, not his, and he would not pry into it without due cause. It was not his place.

  * * *

  Some hours later, having travelled along the country roads without issue, Lidderdale Castle came into view. Luke and Edmund had visited this residence many years ago, when they had both been boys, and the memory of the striking building had not faded with time. However, he could not recall Lord Fontaine at all.

  Getting closer, the imposing structure loomed large on the near horizon. Stone walls surrounded the grounds, with grim-faced gargoyles staring out at any approaching individuals. Behind it, the quartet towers of the castle rose up like gray sentinels, iron spires reaching right up to the sky. Darkened windows peered out like hollowed eyes, their sockets gaping.

  Luke remembered having nightmares about this castle. Even now, he could close his eyes and imagine the medieval clash of swords and the cries of wounded soldiers as they fought for the territory. But he still could not recall any of the family, no matter how hard he tried. Evidently, they had not burned themselves into his memory in the way this building had.

  “Do you recall this place?” Luke glanced at his brother.

  Edmund nodded. “I do indeed. Eerie, is it not?”

  “I was thinking the very same thing,” Luke said, staring up at the unnerving architecture. It did not exactly give off an air of welcome. Then again, Luke supposed it would not, considering everything that had gone on with these walls. It would forever be haunted by the actions of that errant son—the very one they were looking for. “At least the gates are open.” Luke gestured to the iron monstrosities.

  “Small mercies,” Edmund muttered.

  Ignoring his brother, who had descended into a foul mood ever since they departed the Rowfex Estate, Luke pressed on through the gates. The driveway was lengthy, leading across an ancient drawbridge that did not look as if it had been raised in decades. Moonstruck’s hooves thudded against the creaking planks, making Luke fear that they might fall straight through to the empty moat beneath.

  Upon reaching the formidable door, Luke dismounted and knocked loudly. A few minutes later, it opened, with a sour-faced older gentleman peering out.

  “Might I assist you, Sir?” he asked.

  Luke nodded. “We were hoping to speak with the Baron of Lidderdale, if he is at home?” How a baron had ever come into the inheritance of a property like this, he did not know. It was far grander than many of the fine houses in the local area, though not quite as pleasant to behold.

  “On what matter?” the butler replied. “Are you expected?”

  “Not quite.” Luke drew in a steady breath. “We are here on the matter of Lord Fontaine.”

  The butler paled. “You should go.”

  “We must speak with the Baron, Sir,” Luke urged. “It is an urgent matter.”

  “No, you must leave. The baron does not speak of his son. I have been instructed to turn anyone away who asks after him.”

  “Please, this really is of the utmost urgency.” Luke tried to put his foot across the threshold, but the butler had already slammed the door in his face. He knocked again, but there was no answer. In that moment, he realized that they would not gain entry into Lidderdale Castle, regardless of how loudly he protested.

  Suddenly, Edmund shouted. “There! A man is escaping through the woods!”
>
  Luke’s head whipped around. “What?”

  “There!” He jabbed his finger at the ring of forestry that surrounded the property. “I saw a man running for the trees. It has to be Lord Fontaine.”

  Sure enough, Luke glanced at the woodland in time to see a shadow disappear into the tree line, disappearing from sight. Without hesitation, he leapt back into the saddle on his horse and turned Moonstruck around, spurring him on towards the woods.

  “Go back to Rowfex!” Luke bellowed at his brother. “I can handle him alone. Tell the others we are in pursuit. Gather the guards if you can, though they are on duty. And send for the constables. We will bring this wretch home. We will see that he is punished.”

  “No, I will not run from this!” Edmund shouted back, as he joined Luke in hot pursuit. “We will see him captured first, and then we will go back to Rowfex together and tell everyone what has happened here. Let us bring the Sphinx home!”

  Luke thought of Teresa, as he turned Moonstruck in the direction of the fugitive. I will apprehend him for you, my love. He will not harm another soul.

  With adrenaline pumping through his veins, he spurred Moonstruck on, tearing through the tree line. Peering into the shadows beyond, he heard a branch crack underfoot, a short way ahead. You cannot hide from me. Leaving Edmund behind, he pressed on, crashing through the undergrowth with a furious determination. He had been tricked by a highwayman before, but he would not make that mistake again.

  He kept going, keeping the sound of the running fugitive clear in his mind, using it to guide him through the dense foliage that leered down on either side of him. Pummeling along the faint track that meandered through the underbrush, he raced harder and faster until, at last, he bore down on the fleeing figure, whose cloak billowed behind him.

  Emerging into the open expanse of a fortunate glade, he seized his moment, leaping from the saddle and lunging directly onto the fugitive’s back. The two men went down with a hefty thud, hitting the ground hard. The air rushed out of Luke’s lungs as he slammed the figure down into the dirt, winded by the impact.

  “Do not try to struggle,” Luke warned. “You cannot escape us now.”

  “Luke?” Edmund’s voice echoed through the trees.

  “I am here!” he yelled back, yanking the fugitive’s arms up behind his back. The cloak hood flopped over his face, hiding his features. Determined to look into the eyes of the man who had caused Teresa harm, and stolen her necklace, he used his strong hands to turn the fellow over, pushing him hard until he lay still. The cloak still masked the top half of his face, while the lower half was covered with a strip of fabric. A mask will not save you now.

  With a triumphant tear, he flipped back the fellow’s hood and wrenched the fabric from across his mouth. He froze as he stared down at the figure before him, hardly able to believe his eyes. The man began to cackle, his body shaking with hysterics as the awful sound rippled from the back of his throat.

  “Stuart Bollands?” Luke gasped.

  “Surprise!” He howled with cruel laughter. “I told ye not te capture me, M’Lord. I told ye, ye’d come te regret it.”

  The sound of another branch cracking made Luke’s head snap up. From the shadows of the trees that surrounded the glade, figures were emerging. All of them were cloaked, half of their faces shrouded with fabric. Their cold eyes glinted at him as they walked out of the darkness, moving closer to where Luke knelt.

  “Edmund!” Luke roared. “Edmund, run! It is a trap! Edmund, it is a trap!”

  “The Sphinx knows all.” Stuart grinned malevolently.

  Luke jumped to his feet and tried to get back into the saddle of Moonstruck, but the highwaymen were too fast. He had barely gripped the pommel before he felt hands upon him, dragging him back down to the ground. Fists pummeled at his face and boots pounded into his ribs, stealing the voice from his throat as he tried to call out to his brother. If Edmund entered the glade, he would be done for.

  No sooner had he thought it than Palaimon appeared at the edge of the tree line, rearing up in fright as the beast witnessed the chaos beyond. Luke watched as Edmund toppled from the saddle, landing with a thump on the ground. He tried to see what happened next, but the highwaymen obscured his view, until all he could see were fists and furious faces bearing down on him.

  “Edmund,” he whispered, as darkness began to slide across his eyes. Pain splintered through his broken body, and he could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. At least Teresa did not come… at least we did not bring her into this. It was his last thought as oblivion took him, consciousness abandoning him to the mercy of the highwaymen.

  Chapter 24

  Teresa paced the bottom step at the front of Rowfex Manor, keeping her gaze fixed on the gates. Luke and Lord Harpington had not returned, and too much time had passed without a whisper of them. In her panic, she had gathered the guard and urged them to ride to Lidderdale Castle immediately. She had also called upon the constables, who were ready and waiting to take the Sphinx into custody as soon as he arrived. Meanwhile, the Duchess had been informed of what had happened, and had taken to pacing the drawing room instead.

  Where are you? The sun was almost at the point of setting, and she knew they should have returned by now. She tried to calm her growing fears as she walked, certain that the two brothers could have had no trouble wrangling a lone gentleman. Unless he was not alone when they found him? There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that she could not get rid of.

  “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry over,” one of the constables, a man named Mr. Jeffers, assured her.

  She smiled nervously. “Thank you, Mr. Jeffers. I am simply anxious to see them return. They have been gone for such a long time.”

  “They’ll come home soon,” he replied. “These things always seem more concerning than they actually are.”

  Just then, Teresa heard the telltale sound of hooves approaching the gates. She strained her eyes for a better view, but the evening’s gloom retained the mystery a while longer, until Teresa thought she might explode with anxiety. Please let Luke be well… please. A moment later, horses began to spill onto the driveway, moving slowly towards the house.

  Teresa did not have to hear a word to understand that the news was bad. An air of disappointment and despair had settled over the group like a cruel blanket, their heads bowed. She scoured the congregation for her love, desperate to see his face and have herself cheered by his presence… but there was no sign of him.

  Lord Harpington rode in the middle of the group, being propped up by the guard to his side. Teresa sank to her knees as she saw the blood pooling across his shirt, his face streaked with crimson, a gash running down his face from temple to jaw. Where is Luke? Where is he? She tried to force herself back onto her feet, but her knees kept giving way. For she already knew the answer.

  “Where is Lord Luke?” Teresa begged as the horses drew alongside her. Lord Harpington raised his weary head, revealing the tears that streamed down his face. She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head violently. “Where is Lord Luke?” she repeated, over and over, praying that someone would answer her.

  “I am sorry, Miss Dowels,” Lord Harpington said quietly. With some help, he managed to clamber down from the saddle of Palaimon. Even the poor horse was streaked with blood.

  “Where is he, My Lord?” Teresa looked up at him with desperate eyes.

  “I am sorry,” was all he could say in reply.

  “What happened?” Mr. Jeffers stepped in, saying what Teresa could not.

  “We were attacked,” Lord Harpington wheezed. “We were in pursuit of a foul criminal by the name of The Sphinx. He had prepared a trap for us. I do not know how he managed it, but he knew we were coming.”

  “Where is Lord Luke?” Teresa howled.

  Lord Harpington sank down beside her on the step. “I am sorry, Miss Dowels. He… he was taken. I tried to find him, but it was too late. When the guard arrived, we did everything
we could, and scoured every possible location, but he had vanished. And the highwaymen along with him.”

  She shook her head. “No… no… you must be mistaken. You must not have searched hard enough. He must be out there somewhere.” Fired up, unable to believe what Lord Harpington was saying, she tried to get up. “If you cannot find him, My Lord, then I must.”

  “Miss Dowels, it will not do any good.” Lord Harpington’s breath caught in his throat. “We searched everywhere. He is gone. Stuart Bollands was there—he must have informed those wretches of our plan. They surrounded us in the woods and attacked us. I barely escaped with my life.”

  She glared at him. “You left him there, My Lord?”

  “No, I did not. I only ran because he insisted I bring word to you. I was no more than half a mile from Lidderdale Castle when I realized the stupidity of my actions and I turned back around. But, by the time I reached the place where I had seen him last, he had already been taken.” He took her hand and held it. “I am sorry, Miss Dowels. I am so very, very sorry. I only pray that he is alive, so that we may bring him home.”