Solomon stood in the doorway, his hand still on the knob. His green eyes stared at her in complete shock.
“Juliet?” Her name jumped out of his mouth, sounding impossible yet all too familiar. Clearly he had been caught just as off guard as she.
At the sound of her name spoken by that rich, deep voice, the shape of her name formed by those soft lips she remembered so well, Juliet’s senses rushed back to her.
“This has been a terrible mistake,” she croaked, the words scraping through her throat on their way out.
Chapter 2
“Juliet, wait!” Solomon called out. He’d used her Christian name again. It was an old habit, one he’d never been able to break.
“I’m so sorry,” Juliet mumbled as she tried to rush past him.
Solomon jolted forward, his hand wrapping around hers. With that, he found himself transported to three years ago, when he’d held her hands and danced with her as often as he could. It felt so right, just like it did back then, her hand fitting into his so perfectly. Yet somehow it felt as though he were touching her for the first time all over again.
He silently cursed himself as his heart thudded against his ribs, that old warmth and happiness he’d gotten lost in back then resuming as if they’d only been parted for three days rather than three years.
Solomon hated that he had to remind himself that the first issue here was his status as a family member in mourning. He’d lost his brother and sister-in-law just a month ago and his niece had come to live with him last week. How could anything, even the sudden reappearance of this woman, cause him to forget that?
Secondly, she had broken his heart for no good reason.
Juliet paused and looked from their hands up to his face. Against his better judgement, Solomon’s anger dissipated slightly with that one glance. She looked just as confused as he felt. And, somehow, she looked hurt. Solomon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to banish his traitorous feelings. What right did she have to be hurt? She was the one who’d hurt him.
“Please have a seat, Miss Richards, so we can figure out what strange circumstances have brought you to my drawing room.” Solomon let go of her and reverted to using her last name. They were not familiar to each other anymore. He motioned to a pair of chairs by the window she’d been standing at with a small round table between them. He hoped his voice sounded like it usually did when the former love of his life wasn’t standing before him like an apparition from his darkest nightmares—confident bordering on arrogant. That was who Solomon Catley, Earl of Overton was. He would not let Miss Richards take that from him again.
The young woman reluctantly agreed, a dozen emotions passing over her face—her beautiful, sweet, enchanting face.
Pull yourself together, man, Solomon scolded himself. Clearly there had been some mix-up. He needed to figure it out so he could send Miss Richards and her big light blue eyes, her soft white-blonde hair, her perfectly plump lips back out of his life once more.
They took their seats next to each other, Miss Richards nervously fluffing her pale yellow skirts around her feet. Solomon ignored his own reprimands and found himself stunned once more by her otherworldly beauty. The sun shone through the window, lighting her up like an angel.
An angel? Solomon scoffed bitterly to himself at the comparison. If only she had the heart to match.
“Why are you here? Our new governess will be arriving at any moment so I do not have much time.” Solomon drove straight to the point, not caring to spend a second longer in her presence than he absolutely had to.
Miss Richards bit her lip, that tiny dimple at the corner of her mouth appearing briefly. That dimple did not show itself often. At one point in time, Solomon had made it his mission to see how often and in how many different ways he could make that little dimple appear.
“You see…” she mumbled, keeping her eyes on her hands, neatly folded in her lap. “I am your new governess.”
Solomon could feel his stoic expression slip before he could stop himself. He knew his eyes had grown wide in disbelief, that his mouth had parted slightly in a small, silent protest at this new information.
Those arresting eyes flashed up to meet his. Her smile tried to reveal itself before being hastily suppressed. Solomon’s heart lurched. He had missed that smile so dearly. But a pretty smile could never erase what had happened between them.
Quickly composing himself, Solomon adopted his cold countenance once more, channeling his best friend Henry, the Baron of Neil, to the best of his ability. Such an expression was not natural for Solomon, though it had become more common during these past few weeks of grief. Miss Richards’ eyes quickly returned to her lap. Solomon took this as a sign that he had regained control.
“Have you accepted this particular position solely to torment me?” he asked, his voice hard and uncaring despite the pain and confusion coursing through his body. “If so, I must inform you that it simply will not work. I have nothing but friendly feelings for you.”
Miss Richards frowned, a surprising sadness darkening her lovely eyes. “Truth be told, I did not fully realize with whom I had accepted a position,” she replied sheepishly, pulling a letter out of her reticule and holding it out to Solomon.
It was Solomon’s turn to frown. How could she not know who she had agreed to work for? That did not seem like a very smart or safe thing to do. He snatched the letter from her gloved hand, careful to handle it at the corner where there could be no risk of his fingers accidentally brushing against hers.
Solomon soon came to a reluctant understanding as he read the letter. He groaned, dragging a hand over his face as he reached the end. The letter, written by his mother, was a complete mess. Blotches of ink and unsteady handwriting and misspellings everywhere made it quite difficult to understand with any amount of certainty. She’d even misspelled the name of their estate, changing it from Palgrave Castle to Polgrove Castle. On top of that, she had smudged her own name.
He shook his head as he skimmed over it once more. He could see why Miss Richards wouldn’t realize where she was going and for whom she would be working. “Good Heaven, I should have done the hiring, just as I suggested, but Mother had to insist that such a responsibility must fall to the lady of the house,” he grumbled under his breath though he did not particularly care if Miss Richards heard.
“Would it not have been prudent to write back for further information before blindly accepting the position?” he asked, his eyes narrowed as he watched Miss Richards, prepared to read the truth in her face if she attempted to conceal it with her words.
Her blush and hurried swallow told Solomon that she truly was embarrassed by this situation. “I know now that I should have asked for more information, but the names provided as possible references stunned me. I did not dare bother a duchess or marchioness. And I was so caught up in my eagerness to start this path that I didn’t think anything of it. I took the opportunity right away.”
Solomon bristled at her response. “You would not have come if you’d known who the letter was really from?” The question slipped through gritted teeth as his gaze continued to scorch the woman seated next to him.
Miss Richards closed her eyes in a pained grimace. “I should think I would have declined if I’d had the correct information.”
“You may leave and I will pay for your return trip,” Solomon announced with finality as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
Part of him desperately wanted to get her out of here, to get as far away from her as possible. The other part, the dangerous part, desperately longed to be near her again, to have another chance at what could have been. Despite the pain he’d suffered because of her, his heart and his body seemed to only remember the way they’d felt when they'd been together in the past—alive, excited, at peace, at home.
He shook his head at this thought. What his heart could not do, his mind must. He had to regain control of himself and of this situation. He was too emotional right now. He h
ad just lost Ambrose, his dear and only brother, and Florence, his wonderful sister-in-law. He had too much to sort out, both in his aching heart and on this earthly plane where arrangements must be made with haste, allowing no time for grief and confusion to be processed.
“No.” Miss Richards’ voice trembled with that single word, but Solomon could hear the determination in it. He glanced up and saw her sitting up straight and rigid, staring right back at him. “Please allow me to understand the situation I’ve been brought into first. I’ve been hired to do a job and I would like to do that job to the best of my ability.”
A begrudging admiration swelled through Solomon’s chest. He’d always admired her resolve. And he remembered all too well that Miss Richards had not always had the easiest time. Something must have driven her to this exhausting, often lonely profession of governess.
He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees. Formality had grown very tiring of late. He let his head droop between his shoulders, closing his eyes as he spoke. He did not want to see the pity in her face. He’d seen enough pity to last him a lifetime—with his father’s death, his first heartbreak by the former Miss Woolmer, his second heartbreak by Miss Richards, and now this. Anything more would crush Solomon’s spirit.
“My brother, Ambrose Catley, and his wife, Florence, were taken from this world a month ago. They suffered from consumption for some time and they passed within days of each other. As a result, their daughter has come to live with me. Her maternal grandparents are quite aged as Florence was the youngest of six children. The last request Ambrose and Florence made of me was to take their daughter and raise her as my own.”
The words slipped out, heavy and tiring. He wished he would never have to speak those words again, but of course he would—for the rest of his life, any time his family came up.
Of course, this blow had nearly shattered Solomon’s mother, the dowager Lady Overton. She’d never fully recovered from her husband’s death all those years ago, leaving most of the family’s and estate’s management to Solomon. Miss Richards already knew all that. They did have a shared history, no matter how much he tried to forget it. They knew each other. But what they knew remained in the past. Now, there existed an insurmountable barrier between them, caused by immense pain and years of anger.
“My mother insisted on searching for and answering advertisements when we agreed to take Ambrose’s daughter in even though I assured her I could do it. But she says it is the mistress’s job to hire the governess and as I do not have a wife, the task falls to her,” Solomon continued. He clenched his jaw when he mentioned his status as an unmarried man. He had Miss Richards to thank for that. He glanced over to her to gauge her expression, but she simply watched with empathetic sadness in every corner of her face.
“She also insisted she would like to do it because she never had a daughter herself that she needed a governess for. My brother and I only had tutors until we went to school. I can see now that this was a horrible mistake. She told me she’d hired a young lady named Miss Julia Rickson. She was supposed to accompany me to greet our new governess but...today is a very bad day for her so I am left to handle it alone.”
“I am so, so terribly sorry,” Miss Richards whispered. When Solomon finally glanced up, he could see that the young woman looked genuinely pained for him—no superficial pity. “I shall keep your family in my prayers.”
A subtle warmth slowly spread through Solomon. Her presence and calm voice and words had always had a soothing effect on him. He supposed that he was in no position at present to banish such things wherever he could find them.
Solomon sat back up, his spine straightening with the rigid and formal air that had been trained into him since boyhood in preparation for his role as an earl.
“Here is my suggestion,” he started. Miss Richards perked up, her eyes locking onto his with a hint of hopefulness behind them. Solomon swallowed down his sudden urge to throw their past out the window and lose himself in her eyes forever. “Let us try this arrangement for a month. If one or both of us has even the slightest bit of doubt or discomfort, I will pay your way home and write a generous reference.”
Miss Richards took in a deep breath, never breaking eye contact with Solomon. He noted the firm set in her jaw. It always meant that she’d made a decision that she would not be easily talked out of. She’d always had a stubborn streak in her, something that Solomon had loved and respected—until it had caused her to abandon him without a second thought.
“I accept these terms. I promise I will do my very best for this family and for the girl who is now under my care.” Her voice, that sweet, melodic, airy voice, did not waver one bit.
Solomon could feel his heart tearing as he took in Miss Richards’ genuine, caring nature. He only wished that she could have cared for him as genuinely. But he must put that aside for at least a month. Solomon had no doubt that his niece would be well taught and looked after in Miss Richards’ hands.
After all, Pearl was the most important thing in his life now. Her needs must come before everything, no matter how much pain it might bring Solomon in the process.
Chapter 3
Juliet took a deep breath as she stared out the window of the room that had been her home these past few weeks. She had a better view of the orchard she had seen from the drawing room on her first day at Palgrave Castle as her room was situated toward the back of the large home. The orchard still looked lovely though it had started to lose its leaves, a few more drifting down to the ground each day.
She knew that she was extremely lucky to have such a fine room in such a fine house with a far better salary than most governesses dreamed of. A hot stab of guilt pierced her stomach. Despite all those blessings, Juliet planned to give it all up.
Many, many governesses would have been thrilled to find themselves in such a comfortable situation. But Juliet could bear it no longer. She had resolved to let some other worthy lady take her place.
Juliet squeezed her eyes closed, willing the nerves tingling throughout her body to leave her be. She had decided to tell Solomon—Lord Overton—her decision today. But Juliet had decided something else as well. She would not return home to the Richards’ estate. After she offered her resignation, Juliet would write to Cecilia and ask to stay with her until she could find another position.
As much as she could not bear living under the same roof of the man she’d hurt, she also could not bear the thought of returning to her mother’s sneers about her failed path, coupled with her schemes to return Juliet to the marriage market.
But first, Juliet would take a walk in the orchard since neither Pearl nor the rest of the family would be awake yet. Soon she would never see that orchard again. She only wished that she had been able to see what it looked like in the spring.
Wrapping a knitted shawl around her shoulders—black, to match her black crepe mourning dress—Juliet slipped through the house, making her way down two flights of stairs. She silently thanked Lady Overton for having her seamstress come to the estate and furnish Juliet with several mourning dresses to match the household. Juliet hadn’t even thought to ask under what circumstances she would be joining the family so she had only brought her plain but still pretty dresses that came in a variety of currently inappropriate colors. Lord Overton’s earlier criticism of her lack of information about her new employers was all too fair.
Juliet nodded to two maids and a footman on her way, already busy with their daily chores at this early hour. An uncomfortable pang pulsed through her chest when she noticed the strange looks the staff gave her. This only further solidified her decision to leave.
Juliet had always known that governesses stood apart from the rest of the household. She’d seen it happen to her own governess when she was growing up but she’d never paid it much mind. Now, as a governess herself, Juliet wished that she’d been more attentive—and that she hadn’t given that poor woman so much grief.
Cecilia had alwa
ys been the dream child, eager to learn everything from languages to sewing to dancing. And she’d always had exceptional talent at the pianoforte. She enjoyed those activities whereas Juliet had found most of them to be quite dull, activities of no greater purpose than passing the time, impressing potential husbands, and solidifying her place among all the finest ladies of the ton. Juliet had known since she was a girl that she did not want to spend her life passing the time and trying to earn the shallow approval of Society. So, much to her parents’ and governess’ dismay, Juliet rebelled as often as she could, hiding when it came time for lessons or even escaping outside to play by the small creek on their property or to climb a tree.
Thinking back, Juliet knew that she had been lucky to have a very nice governess early on in her life, although the one who replaced her had been quite a terror. At least, Juliet had thought so at the time. Now Juliet knew that the woman had only been trying to do her job, to use the means she thought best to mold Juliet into the perfect marriageable daughter that her parents expected. Yet Juliet had done everything she could to make that task difficult, if not downright impossible, for her governesses.
Guilt rattled Juliet again. How could she have been so insensitive and stubborn to someone in this position? Now that she’d experienced it herself, she wished desperately that she could go back in time and right her wrongs—and not just to her former governesses.
Governesses, as Juliet had been warned and now knew for herself, had no real friends in the house. Indeed, they could not make real connections with anyone. That was yet another reason she could not stay here. As a well-bred and educated young lady, Juliet outranked the other servants and, unlike the maids, she had been hired by Lady Overton, not the housekeeper. She had only seen the mysterious woman a handful of times in her stay at Palgrave Castle but she could never expect to be friends with a lady so above her reduced rank.
Embracing The Earl's Dream: A Clean Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 4) Page 2
