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

He could see no sign of any papers. The desk that had been provided for her use was empty of letters or personal items, displaying only the inkwell and pen trays, also a pad for leaning one’s paper on. His heart thudding and a sick feeling in his stomach, Rupert walked to the desk. He had never done such a despicable thing in his life. Feeling like the worst sort of rogue, he picked up the pad and saw that the soft surface had indentations, but though he studied them for a moment he could not pick out any words. He hesitated, then opened the long top drawer. It was empty. Each of the first two drawers on the side was similarly unused, but in the third he found a small wooden box, which was obviously used to store papers and letters. It was locked.

Rupert glanced round the room. Where would the key be hidden—or did she have it with her? He considered making a search and then the enormity of what he was doing swept over him.

This was despicable! Miss Goodrum was entitled to her privacy and he was not behaving as a gentleman ought. If he wanted her confidence, he must earn it. Replacing the box, he closed the desk drawer and left the room. As he reached the end of the hall, he saw a maid approaching. She looked at him curiously, no doubt wondering what he was doing so far from his own rooms.

He would change into his riding breeches, walk down to the stables and go in search of his pupils and their governess.

* * *

Sarah had been pleasantly surprised in the mare she was given. It was a spirited creature and far superior to what she had expected might be offered to a mere governess. Lord Myers was clearly a good judge of horses and she was going to enjoy the experience.

She had spent some hours thinking before she was able to sleep the previous evening. Her agent had sent her a package containing several business matters, most of which she had managed to settle easily in a few words. The letter was lying unfinished in her writing box, because she had not been able to decide about what to do on the other matter.

Sam had told her that he had received an offer to purchase all her mills.

It comes from a solicitor, Miss Harding. He has not revealed the buyer’s name, but says that his client is well able to purchase all the mills and the price he is offering is far better than anything you’ve been offered before. My only hesitation in urging you to sell would be to do with his keeping his identity secret. There are certain men—rivals of your father—who might decide to either shut down the mills and sell off the property to reduce competition for their own trade or reduce wages and increase working hours. Your father was widely believed too generous and some of the mill owners thought that he had made it impossible for them to make the profits they wished, because key workers demanded the same rates as your father paid. However, I feel that while you have managed thus far you may find it hard to maintain the level of efficiency needed if you marry and have a family, as your father would have wished. Your husband might not have the same feeling for the workers as both you and your father have shown.

I await your decision as always,

Samuel Barnes

Sarah knew that the price offered was a good one. Perhaps not the full worth of the mills, but near enough to make it a viable proposition. It would be the easy way out for her, particularly since she had been wishing to make a change for a while. Had she been content with her life, she would not have felt the need to change places with Hester Goodrum.

However, coming here had made her see how pleasant a similar life might be. She would not wish to simply hand over everything to someone else. Even if she married, she would wish to be informed of all that was happening and to be consulted about any changes in the way things were run. It had come to her of late that in the right circumstances she could happily amuse herself with a family and friends, leaving business to her husband for the main part. If she were involved in the decision-making and consulted before the workers were put on short time—or, indeed, more were taken on, if the mill prospered—she did not need to be involved in the day-to-day running of the place.

Her uncle had always insisted she should take a husband and leave her business to him, but Sarah had felt compelled to keep her hands on the reins. She no longer felt as if she wished to spend all her life coping with the problems of running her father’s business empire and would be happy to hand much of it to another.

Yet she could not simply abandon her people and her principles to someone who might abuse them. Sarah was well aware that despite rumblings in Parliament, where the plight of mill workers and others in similar jobs had been debated, nothing of any consequence had been done to force the owners to treat their people decently. Women and even children worked in terrible conditions for long hours; they were given only a few minutes’ break to relieve themselves or drink some water and their mealtimes were restricted to a quarter of an hour in many cases. If they complained they were sent home and would be blacked by the other employers so that they found it impossible to get another job. The men fared little better and any that dared to speak out against the conditions might have to travel miles to find work to keep their families from starving. Sarah had recently taken in a family who had been thrown out of their home and refused work. Sam had told her that once Mr Arkwright discovered what she’d done, he would be very angry.

‘Matt Arkwright is a hard man, Miss Hardcastle. He fell out with your father over the wages he paid and they almost came to blows. He’ll not take kindly to you giving succour to a man he’s dismissed.’

‘If he does not like it, he must learn to live with it.’ Sarah had shrugged off her agent’s warning, but the next day she’d received a visit from Mr Arkwright. He had spent an hour haranguing her and left after issuing threats.

‘You’re a haughty piece, Miss Hardcastle, but you’ll come unstuck. You think your wealth entitles you to act like a lady and carry on with your head in the clouds, but one of these days you’ll go too far.’

‘I fail to see what business it is of yours whom I choose to employ, sir.’

‘We mine owners stick together. If you give these troublemakers an inch, they’ll take a yard. Before you know it, we’ll have rioting and people will get hurt. You’ve been warned, Miss Hardcastle. Think on it!’

Sarah had put the unpleasant scene from her mind. She did not think the man she’d employed was a troublemaker and had no intention of letting a rival owner tell her how to run her affairs. However, she now wondered if it was Matt Arkwright who had offered for the mills. She’d almost made up her mind to reject the offer, but if it was Arkwright she would have made herself an enemy.

Yet to allow him to destroy all her father had set out to do was unthinkable.

‘Isn’t it lovely out?’ Francesca asked, coming up beside her. ‘How do you like your mare?’

‘She is perfect. Very responsive,’ Sarah said. ‘John is ahead of us—shall we catch him up?’

‘Yes.’ Francesca did not immediately suit her actions to her words. ‘Are you still upset? You won’t have to leave us, will you?’

‘No, I shan’t leave you for a while,’ Sarah said. ‘Come on, let’s try them out...’

She touched her heels lightly to the mare’s flanks and set off in pursuit of John, who had ridden on with his groom at a faster pace. She would not let the problem of the mills upset her. Although this interlude could not last long, she was determined to make the most of it for as long as she could.

* * *

Rupert saw the group just ahead of him. He had set out after them, expecting that it might take some time to catch up, but obviously they had ambled along for much of the ride. They had separated out a little, John and the groom ahead and the two girls at the rear. He saw they were just about to set out in pursuit when something caught his eye. A man was watching them, and as Rupert watched he drew out a pistol and fired in their direction.

‘Look out!’ The warning made the rogue’s arm jerk. He turned, stared at Rupert, then set off at a run, disappearing into the trees. ‘Damn it!’

Rupert saw that the shot had caused one of the ladies to fall from her horse. He was tempted to pursue the rogue who had fired at them, but knew the ladies came first. Swearing to himself, he rode up to them, his feelings mixed as he saw it was Francesca on the ground. Relieved that Sarah was all right, he was off his horse and kneeling over Francesca in an instant.

‘Are you all right? Did that rogue wing you?’

‘No...’ Francesca accepted his hand and stood up. ‘The shot went wide of us, but my horse reared and I slid off. I feel such an idiot. I should have managed to hang on.’

‘Not your fault,’ Rupert said. ‘Have you broken anything? Do you feel any pain?’

‘No, just a little bruised. I think my pride is hurt more than anything else. I thought I was a good horsewoman.’

‘So you are,’ Sarah assured her. ‘That poacher’s shot spooked your horse, that’s all. Anyone could have fallen off the way you did.’

‘Sarah is right,’ Rupert agreed. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself or your horse. Damned poacher! I would have gone after him, but I was concerned you might be hurt.’

‘No, I’m all right. I thought Grandfather’s keepers had scared off all the poachers.’

‘Apparently not this one,’ Rupert replied grimly. ‘I’ll have them double the watch. I know this isn’t technically a part of the estate, but it’s still private property. It belongs to Lord Henry James and he will have to be told. He will not want poachers on his estate.’

‘Lord James is hardly ever here,’ Francesca said. ‘I think he spends most of his time in London. However, I heard that his nephew, Sir Roger Grey, had come down to oversee the property for him for a little while.’

‘Sir Roger Grey?’ Sarah asked, looking at her oddly.

‘Yes, do you know him?’ Rupert asked, gaze narrowing as he saw the expression in her eyes.

‘Oh...yes, I may have met him once,’ Sarah admitted, a flush in her cheeks. ‘If Lord James is often away, I dare say he does not bother about protecting his game as he ought.’

‘Well, perhaps he should. I must ride over and speak to his nephew about it. We cannot allow this kind of thing to continue. One of you might have been badly hurt,’ Rupert replied and frowned. ‘Are you able to ride, Francesca?’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said.

‘Up you get, then,’ Rupert said and dismounted. He gave her his hand and threw her up in the saddle, looking at her with approval. ‘That’s my good brave girl.’

‘I’ve fallen before. Please do not worry about me,’ Francesca said and looked at Sarah. ‘Are you all right? I thought the shot was nearer you than me.’

‘It passed quite close. I felt the wind on my cheek,’ Sarah said and Rupert looked at her again.

‘Has it shaken you?’

‘No, not particularly, though it was not a pleasant experience. I am glad you arrived when you did, Lord Myers.’