Regency Surrender: Defiant Lords: His Unusual Governess / Claiming the Chaperon's Heart

‘How perceptive of you, Miss Goodrum,’ he said and there was a gleam of mockery in his eyes.

‘Do you enjoy mocking everything and everyone?’

‘If one could not laugh at the world it would be a dull place, do you not agree?’

‘Yes, perhaps.’ Sarah’s mouth was unaccountably smiling despite her determination to keep her distance. ‘Do you intend on inviting guests to stay?’

If he did so she would need to change her arrangements, for guests would not expect to see the governess at every meal.

‘We may have that picnic John was so keen on and we shall encourage people to visit for tea—but I think no house guests at the moment. Unless my uncle decides to visit; he might come down at any time, of course.’

‘You were not thinking of holding a dinner?’

‘Not for the moment. Unless, as I said, my uncle decides to visit his grandchildren. He told me he has no intention of it until Christmas, but he might change his mind.’

‘Yes, I can see that would change things.’ Sarah swallowed a little scrambled egg and a piece of kidney. She touched the napkin to her mouth and glanced at him. ‘Would it be rude of me to ask why a gentleman like you would agree to be John’s mentor for six months? I should have thought you might prefer to be in town—or have business at your own estate.’

‘Should you?’ His brows rose. ‘I see no reason why I should answer your question, but I shall tell you that my estate is within a day’s ride should I need to visit it—and I do have agents and managers to run it for me.’

‘Yes, of course, but there is always some little detail needing attention, do you not find? Things that only you can decide...’ Sarah dipped her head as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘My father always said he could not leave his business for long...’

‘I thought you said he was a mine manager?’

‘Yes, he was,’ Sarah agreed. ‘He was always very busy and had little time for his family. Especially after my mother died.’

‘Was that long ago?’

‘I was twelve at the time. I grew closer to my father and sometimes accompanied him on...’ She had been going to say journeys, for her father had travelled between the mine and the mills. ‘On his way to work,’ she finished lamely.

‘That was before you went to school?’

‘Yes, I had a governess. She did not approve of me spending so much time at the m...mine.’ Again she had been going to say mills and bit back her words. This was a dangerous subject and if she were not careful she would betray herself.

At that moment the door opened and both John and Francesca entered. After exchanging greetings with Sarah and Lord Myers, they went to the sideboard and began to choose from the various dishes. John was clearly impressed by the choice and spent some time filling his plate.

‘Can you eat all that?’ Sarah asked. ‘You must remember that we shall eat nuncheon later—unless we just have some fruit and biscuits? I thought we might ramble later this afternoon. We can collect wild flowers and stones, things that we can draw or make into a collection. If Lord Myers has no other plans?’

‘I couldn’t resist,’ John said honestly. ‘We never get all this in the nursery. I should like to go rambling if Rupert has nothing else planned.’

‘As a matter of fact, I had planned that we should start your fencing lessons after nuncheon. We shall spend an hour teaching you the first moves and then I had thought you might wish to play a ball game on the lawn. However, you may go walking after the fencing lesson if you prefer.’

‘No, I’d rather stay with you,’ John said and attacked his food as if he had been starved for the past year.

‘Better slow down a bit,’ Lord Myers advised and John immediately sat back, chewing more thoroughly.

‘I’d like to play ball games,’ Francesca said. ‘I’d like to watch the fencing, too—but it may be best if I wait until John has learned a few moves. We could ramble for a while and then come back and join the others, couldn’t we, Sarah?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Sarah said and saw Lord Myers’s brows shoot up. ‘I told Francesca she might use my preferred name when we are alone, my lord.’

‘Indeed, Miss Goodrum?’ He looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘I thought your name was Hester?’

Sarah felt her cheeks growing warm. ‘I never liked the name and my father had a pet name for me. It was my mother’s name also....’

‘I see. Are we all allowed to call you by this...pet name? Or is it only for Francesca?’

‘In company I think it would be best if I remained Miss Goodrum. I leave the rest to your good sense, Lord Myers.’

‘Ah, I see.’ A gleam appeared in his eyes. ‘I shall give the matter my full attention, Miss Goodrum.’

Sarah felt her cheeks flame. Had they been alone she might have made a sharp retort, but decided to change the subject.

For the remainder of their meal, she addressed her remarks to John and Francesca and was relieved when Lord Myers got up and excused himself.

‘I have some estate business to attend to while I am here,’ he said. ‘I shall see you after nuncheon, John—and we shall play some kind of ball game on the lawns at about three this afternoon.’

* * *

Soon after he departed Sarah left the others to finish and went to the library. She had chosen the books they were to discuss by the time Francesca and John arrived. Having found a bestiary for John to peruse and some poetry books that she thought Francesca would like, she spent the next half an hour reading poetry. As she chose a poem that told of daring deeds and men’s lives laid down on the field of battle, she was not surprised that John paid full attention to her reading.

‘It was a brave thing Horatio did in laying down his life for the men he fought with, wasn’t it, miss?’ he said when she put down the book. ‘I think I should like to be a soldier and fight for honour and glory.’

‘Perhaps you will when you are older.’ Sarah smiled at him. ‘Now I am going to read a romantic poem for Francesca’s sake. You may wish to peruse your bestiary, John—but I should like you to write me a short piece about the battle scenes we just discussed in your own time. Can you do that for me?’

‘Yes, miss. May I write it as a story?’

‘If you wish. Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea.’ She opened her book and smiled at Francesca. ‘This is Colonel Lovelace’s letter to Lucasta on the eve of Battle. Although it has the same theme, it is romantic and I think you may enjoy it.’

She began to read, noticing that although John had opened his book, clearly disgusted at the idea of a sloppy romance, he soon began to listen to the poem and the others Sarah read to them.

‘For your essay I would like you to write about what romance is—and what you think Lucasta meant to Colonel Lovelace to make him write such a poem, Francesca.’

‘Oh, yes...it was so romantic,’ Francesca said and sighed. ‘Love is a wonderful thing, is it not? Have you ever been in love, Sarah?’

‘No, I haven’t. I loved my father, but I think being in love is very different.’

‘How does one know whether love is real?’

‘I am not sure—but I think when it happens one feels it in here.’ Sarah placed a hand over her heart. ‘If you think it is happening to you one day, you must give yourself time to be sure, Francesca—but I think you will know in your heart if it’s real.’

‘Men can let you down, though, can’t they? I heard about one of the servant girls...’ Francesca glanced at John, who appeared to have his nose firmly in his book. ‘Something happened to her and she was sent away in disgrace. I asked Mrs Brancaster why and she said a man had let poor Alice down. I wasn’t sure what she meant.’

‘Ah...’ Sarah swallowed hard. She hadn’t realised the girl was so innocent. ‘That is something we ought to discuss another day—perhaps in private.’

‘It meant she was having a baby and she wasn’t wed,’ John said, proving that his ears were still listening even if his nose was in the book. ‘Timothy the groom told me Alice wouldn’t say who the father was, but he thought—’

‘Yes, well, perhaps it is best if we do not speculate on such matters,’ Sarah said. She herself had learned from her old nurse where babies came from when she was sixteen and one of her father’s maids had also been dismissed for having committed the terrible sin of lying with one of the grooms.

‘I sort of knew that,’ Francesca admitted. ‘But not why she was in trouble... I mean, what made her?’