An Untamed Governess For The Rogue (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Olivia Bennet

  “No, no, no, no, no… this cannot be,” she cried.

  “Only at his urging, Miss Dowels. I will have to live with the consequences of obeying him for the rest of my days, if he cannot be discovered. Please, I did all I could.” Tears trickled down his cheeks, but Teresa was too overwhelmed with grief to show compassion. Instead, she let her own tears come, not caring for the stares that were being cast in her direction.

  At that moment, the Duchess appeared in the doorway. “Edmund? Edmund, what has happened?”

  Edmund glanced at her with mournful eyes. “We were attacked, Mother. Luke is missing. We have searched everywhere for him, but he is gone, and I do not know where.”

  Teresa watched as the Duchess lost control of her calm façade. “No, that cannot be. Where is he, Edmund? Is this some tomfoolery? Tell me where my boy is!”

  “He is gone, Mother. I am sorry… I am sorrier than you could possibly know.”

  “Send for the Duke,” she commanded. “One of you, go to Lord Howick’s estate this moment and fetch him back to me. Now!”

  Two of the guards jumped into action, wheeling their horses around and heading back down the driveway. Teresa could barely see their departure through her blurry vision, her chest wracked with painful sobs. How could this have happened? She wished she had run when she had had the chance, and spared Luke from this fate. But it was too late for regrets now. Luke had vanished, and nobody had any idea if they would ever see him again.

  Unable to endure the intensity of the situation, Teresa suddenly found the strength to get to her feet. Ignoring the calls of Lord Harpington and the Duchess, as they tried to stop her, she tore across the front of the house and rounded the corner. Ahead of her lay the outbuilding where that wretch, Stuart Bollands, had been captive.

  Sprinting towards it, though there were no longer any guards stationed outside, she threw the door open and peered inside. Her chest burned as she dragged in agonizing breaths, wishing she could wake up to find this was all a terrible nightmare, wishing she could open her eyes and find Luke beside her, his arms holding her close.

  Instead, all she saw was a loose rope twisted across the filthy floor, and no sign of Stuart Bollands. She stumbled against the doorway, using it to keep her upright. Her stomach churned, bile threatening to spill from her mouth as it rose up her throat. It was a trap… they knew we were coming. Evidently, Stuart Bollands had heard everything, and had informed his band of highwaymen of what they planned.

  “Miss Dowels?” She whirled around to find Lord Harpington standing beside her, rusted flakes of blood clinging to the wound on his face.

  “Leave me be, My Lord,” she hissed.

  “Miss Dowels, please.” He put out his hand and placed it on her shoulder. Despite her unbearable anger and grief, she did not shrug it away. She no longer had the strength.

  “Do you think he is alive?” she whispered.

  Lord Harpington sighed. “I pray that he is. If they had killed him, there would have been a body. Truthfully, I have the terrible feeling that the Sphinx has another purpose for my brother. He warned Luke not to make demands—Luke told us as much himself. Perhaps, this is some kind of awful retribution.”

  “You should never have left him,” she whimpered.

  He squeezed her shoulder gently. “I know… I know, Miss Dowels. I regret it with all my heart. But he wanted you to know what had happened. You were his only thought. I wanted to do as he asked, but I know that I made the wrong choice. If I could alter it, I would.”

  “What are we to do without him?” Feeling as though she may fall to pieces, she staggered forwards and allowed Lord Harpington to put his arms around her. Sinking into his shoulder, she sobbed for all she was worth, for she did not have the answer to her throbbing question.

  “I do not know, Miss Dowels. I do not know.”

  * * *

  Broken and battered, Edmund ensured that Teresa was taken to her bedchamber. She had insisted she wished to remain downstairs, but her grief had made her feverish, and Edmund had demanded she take to her bed. It would do her no good to make herself ill over this tragic event. In the end, she had relented, allowing herself to be carried to her room, as she had been on her first evening at the Rowfex Estate. A bitter irony.

  Leaving her in the care of two of the maids, Edmund braced himself to speak with his mother and father. The Duke had returned from Lord Howick’s residence a short while ago, and Edmund knew they would not be able to rest until they knew everything. In all honesty, he was on the brink of exhaustion. His body ached and his cuts stung, but he knew he had to do his duty, no matter how much pain he was in.

  “Are you certain you searched everywhere?” The Duchess launched into her interrogation the second Edmund stepped into the drawing room. Her eyes were rimmed with red, the trails of her recent tears still visible upon her cheeks.

  Edmund nodded. “The guards and I scoured the entire forest for him. I am sorry, Mother, but we simply could not find him. We did all we could, I promise you.”

  “I should never have gone to Howick’s,” the Duke muttered, his knuckles whitening as he balled his hands into fists. “I should have known not to leave something so important in your hands.”

  Edmund stared in surprise. “This was not my fault, Father. We did not know we were walking into a trap. As far as I was concerned, Stuart Bollands was still in our outbuilding.”

  “I should never have allowed the two of you to pursue this. I hoped you would prove your worth, but, instead, our son has been stolen from us.” The Duke could not even look at Edmund, whose heart was sinking with every second. How could they blame him for this?

  “Perhaps you wish that I had been lost in his stead?” Edmund snapped in return. “You have never made a secret of preferring him over me. Would you be weeping if I had been taken?”

  “Oh Edmund, you know that is not true,” the Duchess said. “We love you all equally, and we always have done. Your father is upset, that is all. Of course we would be distressed if you had not returned.”

  Edmund pulled a sour face. “Why do I not believe you?”

  “Edmund, you will not speak to your mother like that,” the Duke retorted. “Your brother is missing. Show some sympathy, for goodness’ sake.”

  “Show some sympathy?” Edmund choked. “I have been in a state of complete horror since the attack happened. Do you think I gained these injuries out of nowhere? I was attacked too, Father. I saw them bear down on Luke. You were not there, so do not attempt to try and suggest what I am feeling.”

  “You abandoned him. Your mother told me so.” The Duke bristled with anger.

  “I obeyed him, Father. He urged me to go and tell everyone what had happened. I turned around as soon as I realized how foolish I was being. I cannot say this enough—must I repeat myself over and over until I am blue in the face?” Rage spiked through Edmund’s chest. Even now, their adoration for Luke prevailed. It did not matter that Edmund bore the wounds of the same attack. Had I died, perhaps they would have shown me due respect, at long last.

  “Archibald, please,” the Duchess said. “I do not want any further unpleasantness in this house. We have all endured a great deal this day. I would urge you not to speak out of turn, lest you come to regret it.”

  “He left our son to the torment of those highwaymen!” the Duke barked.

  “And I will regret that for the rest of my days, as I am certain you will never allow me to forget it.” Edmund burned with fury. “Let us hope he returns soon, by God’s grace, so that my suffering may be short-lived.” Without another word, he strode from the room, struggling to gain control of his emotions.

  You have never cared for me, either of you. All my life, I have come in second best. This night, you have shown your true colors. Well, two could play that game. He was tired of proving himself. And he was tired of being second best.

  Chapter 25

  Dawn rose on the next day, but Teresa had not slept. Her every waking thought had been
of Luke. Still missing. Still gone. Even as she had lain in her bed, she had tried to imagine him beside her, wrapped in his embrace. But the dream had vanished the moment she opened her eyes and found him to be absent once more.

  Restless, even though weariness ached in her bones, she took herself out into the gardens. Standing on the edge of the lawn, she gazed toward the horizon and felt a sudden urge to run. If Luke was no longer alive, then she did not know if she had a purpose for being. He had promised to wed her. He had promised to love her for the rest of his days. But she had not realized that those days might have been shorter than either of them had expected.

  “You could not rest either?” She turned slowly to find Lord Harpington emerging from the shadows of the walled garden. He looked very ill indeed, his face drawn, dark hollows forming bruised crescents beneath his eyes.

  She shook her head. “I can think only of him.”

  “He is not dead yet, Miss Dowels.” It was a meagre comfort.

  “We do not know that for certain.”

  He came to stand beside her. “I do not know much of the world, Miss Dowels, but I understand the cruelty of mankind. Criminals such as the Sphinx strive only to strengthen their positions and benefit themselves. Luke is of a good family, with plenty of wealth. I am certain the Sphinx will endeavor to prey upon that, rather than kill Luke outright.”

  “That does not mean Lord Luke will return to us alive,” Teresa said quietly. “What if this wretch gets what he desires, and murders Lord Luke anyway?”

  “We must not allow ourselves to think so negatively. It will only cause us further pain.”

  Teresa glanced sideways at him. “I am sorry for calling you a coward, My Lord. That was wrong of me. I was so overwhelmed… I did not mean what I said. You have endured suffering of your own, and it was cold of me to minimize your injuries and your experience.” She paused. “I know that you were not always close with your brother, but you would not have abandoned him unless there was valid reason. You are a good man, My Lord. And I am sorry that I forgot, if only for a moment.”

  Lord Harpington smiled sadly. “I wish there were others in this household who shared in your empathy and understanding.”

  “The Duke and Duchess?”

  He nodded. “They have not taken the news well, and I am to bear the brunt of their misery. I keep hoping they will see that I did all I could and will continue to do so… but they are blind to it, as of now.”

  “They will soften, once the initial heartbreak has ebbed slightly,” Teresa said.

  “You do not know my family as I do, Miss Dowels, though I thank you for your kind words.” An edge of bitterness lingered in Lord Harpington’s voice, and a bizarre, cold expression crossed his face—a look she did not quite understand. Although, she knew it could not have been easy for him, to have to endure his mother and father’s disdain, after what he had been through.

  “Did you find a way to gain entry into Lidderdale Castle?” Teresa was eager to change the subject to one more hopeful. Even now, she refused to surrender to the idea that Luke was lost to them forever. They still had information. Surely, they could discover something from that?

  Lord Harpington grimaced. “I did, though it did little good. Lord Fontaine is not the Sphinx.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because he is locked in the East Tower of Lidderdale Castle,” Lord Harpington replied. “I was taken to see him myself, when the guards arrived. The family could not deny me, with so much protection at my back. He is a lunatic, I am afraid, and has not left the walls of Lidderdale Castle in two years, ever since Lady Broxbourne killed herself. It appears it toppled him over the brink of insanity.”

  Teresa fought the rising frustration in her veins. “We cannot give up, My Lord.”

  He smiled. “No… no, we cannot.”

  “We must continue to find this Sphinx and hope that we may reach Lord Luke before any harm comes to him.”

  “I have already sworn to do all that I can. I will help you, if only to bring peace back to this house.” Edmund stared off into the distance, a muscle twitching in his jaw. Teresa longed to offer him some words of encouragement, but she did not want to give him false hope. Even in her short time at the Rowfex Estate, she had perceived the favoritism between the Duke and Duchess and their children. They would forever be lost without Luke.

  And so will I…

  * * *

  Luke’s eyes blinked open to gloomy surroundings. A damp, sour smell filled his nostrils, tinged with the acrid tang of tobacco smoke. His head pounded violently, his whole body aching with a thousand bruises. He tried to move, but a searing agony down his left side prompted him to stay where he was. I have broken something; I am sure of that. What he was not sure of, however, was where he was.

  The last thing he remembered was seeing Edmund fall from his horse and hearing the shouts of the highwaymen as they closed in around him. Allowing his eyes to adjust, he peered into the shadows. It looked as though he was in a cell of some sort, with thick stone walls and no windows to speak of. A solid iron door stood between him and the outside world.

  Sinking back against the grimy wall, trying to ignore the sludgy shift against his shoulders, he struggled to piece the events together. How had Stuart Bollands freed himself from the outbuilding? And where was Edmund?

  “Brother?” he whispered, wondering if Edmund might be locked in here with him. Silence echoed back.

  He did not know the time nor the day, even, but he knew that Teresa would have alerted the guards the moment she realized the brothers were late in returning. Surely, they would scour the area and discover him soon. The missing sons of a Duke would not be easy to keep quiet, no matter who this Sphinx was.

  I must be patient. He tried to draw in a deep breath, only to send pain ricocheting across his chest. As the agony subsided, he moved himself into a more comfortable position and thought of Teresa. As much as he hated to admit it, his life rested in her hands now.

  * * *

  “Where is our brother?” Lady Philomena asked, as Teresa sat by the windowsill in the nursery, staring listlessly through the pane. The Duchess had tried to insist that Teresa return to her bed, until she had recovered from the shock, but she had been desperate for a distraction. And the children had seemed like the perfect diversion for her troubled mind.

  She turned slowly. “He has gone away for a while.”

  “Why?” Lady Philomena peered curiously at Teresa.

  “He had to,” she replied.

  “Then why are Mama and Papa so sad? And why has Felicity locked herself in her bedchamber?” This time, Lady Elspeth was the one who spoke.

  Teresa fought back tears. “They are sad that he has had to go away, that is all. I am sure they will return to their usual, cheerful selves in due course. Now, how are you progressing with those sums?”

  Lord Thomas frowned at her. “But where has our brother gone? When will he return?”

  “I cannot say, Lord Thomas,” she replied. “He is on very urgent business and did not say when he would come back.” She realized she had made a mistake by insisting on coming here, to teach the children. Children were curious by their very nature, and they would only continue to ask questions until they received an answer that satisfied them. But she did not have such an answer.

  “Has he fought with Edmund?” Lady Philomena wondered.

  Teresa held her nerve. “I do not believe so.”

  “Then why was Edmund’s face injured?” Lady Elspeth added, the three children clearly intent on squeezing all they could from Teresa.

  “He fell from his horse,” Teresa replied.

  “They often quarrel,” Lord Thomas mused. “You can tell us if that is what has happened. We will keep it a secret.”

  Teresa’s stomach churned. “I am sorry, children, but I am feeling suddenly unwell. Please, continue with your sums and I will ensure that Mrs. Dolan comes to watch over you for a while.” She did not wait for their response. Gettin
g up, she exited the room as quickly as she could and hurried downstairs.

  “Miss Dowels?” The Duchess was crossing the entrance hall at the most inopportune moment. Teresa simply wanted to reach the outside, with its abundance of fresh air, before she fainted. Already, she could feel the prickling heat of it creeping up her spine, ready to make her fall. She sank down on the staircase, heaving in unsteady breaths.

  “My apologies, Your Grace,” she rasped. “I thought I would be of better use if I were distracted by the children, but a sudden sickness has come over me.”