The Enigmatic Rake

The gravest problem for her was the one most unlooked for. Mr Millington, the butler, developed an unexpected and completely inappropriate tendre for Sarah and followed her with a gleam in his pale eyes. Nor was he averse to glasses of port in the seclusion of his pantry. Sarah avoided him as much as possible after an embarrassing incident in the wine cellar, when the self-controlled housekeeper made her position very plain in a remarkably austere voice, which destroyed all Mr Millington’s pretensions.

The Countess of Wexford was demanding, thoughtless, selfish and patronising. She objected to being woken, but complained when her cup of hot chocolate did not arrive on the instant that she opened her eyes. Hot water was expected to appear at the very moment she required it, earning for one of the maids a sharp and quite unnecessary slap; the same intolerance was applied to the laundering of her beautiful clothes, with never a word of appreciation or a genuine smile.

Her smiles were gifted solely on Lord Joshua, offering a source of much interested gossip and speculation. Not that speculation was needed. Of course she was his mistress. What other reason could there be for a lady to be residing in the house of an unmarried gentleman, and one with such presence and address as his lordship? Fortunately, with his lordship somewhat incapacitated, the Countess was frequently away from the house in Hanover Square.

Lord Joshua proved to be an enigma, spending much time at home, nursing his wounds. The library became his personal domain where he read the Morning Post, drank brandy and wrote many letters. Millington proved to be a fount of knowledge for the household. His lordship had few visitors, but the gentlemen who called at the house did so at unusual times, often late at night. They never gave their names or left a visiting card. Quite respectable, dark-suited individuals, as might be expected from the legal profession, but Millington did not think they were connected with the law. Lord Joshua also received an inordinate amount of mail, over and above the gilt-edged invitations.

Otherwise his life was very quiet, which did not seem to Sarah to be at all in keeping with what she imagined the lifestyle of a notorious rake to be. But, of course, he had the companionship of the Countess. Millington swore on his own authority that his lordship visited her room at night. What man in his right mind would not, with so glamorous and seductive a lady living under his roof and casting out lures. Millington whispered rumours of outrageous orgies and scandalous parties hosted by his lordship in Paris. Not perfectly sure that she knew what an orgy entailed, Sarah’s suspicions were aroused when, on entering the morning room, she encountered the couple unawares. She was able to retreat, but not before she saw the Countess of Wexford brush her hand through his lordship’s hair and reach up to kiss him full on his mouth.

Sarah found herself thinking vengeful thoughts against the lady, disappointed that Lord Joshua Faringdon could not see the Countess of Wexford for what she was. At the same time she admitted, with a blush, that she would like nothing better than to take the Countess’s role in this little scene. Standing in the scullery, a newly polished silver tureen in her hands, her fingers itched to stroke through that silvered hair. Her lips trembled at the thought of the man’s intimate caress. Sarah blinked at the shattering image, putting down the tureen with unnecessary force and little thought to its value.

When Sarah’s cheeks had cooled and she had scolded herself out of her bad temper, her thoughts turned to Lord Joshua’s daughter. So young and yet with a studied and disturbing composure. Beth had already been taught the rudiments of reading by someone in the household in Richmond. She loved to turn the pages of books, poring over the illustrations, and even more to listen to Sarah read the stories, following the words with her small hands. She was soon close to having read all the suitable books in the schoolroom. On the whole Sarah found that her role of governess was not onerous, particularly as Beth took on the role of an elder sister toward John. She reprimanded him and hugged him in equal measure. John at his most good-natured accepted the attention with equanimity.

Given Beth’s blunt statement that she was not wanted, it surprised Sarah that Lord Joshua took it upon himself to visit his daughter every day, although there was little obvious progress in developing a closer relationship. His lordship made every effort, inviting her to ride in the park in the barouche. Beth declined, most politely. He asked if she would care to visit her Aunt Judith. Yes, of course, but first she must finish an exercise for Mrs Russell. Beth rarely raised her eyes from her book, almost as if she feared to make contact with her father. It worried Sarah. How she would have hated if John had reacted so toward his own father. If Lord Joshua wished to learn more about his daughter and was not the careless parent as he had been painted, he was having no success. So, certain of one sure way to the child’s heart, Sarah decided to take some action.

She arranged to visit his lordship in the library one morning, knowing that the Countess was from home. He looked up as she knocked and entered.

‘Good morning, Mrs Russell.’ Although he might be surprised to see his housekeeper seek him out, with innate good manners he pushed himself to his feet and approached.

‘Forgive me if I intrude, my lord. May I speak with you about your daughter?’ There he stood. An imposing figure, a little withdrawn, but not unwelcoming. Sarah swallowed against her breath, which had for some reason become lodged in her throat.

‘Of course. Is there some difficulty? She seems well enough.’ He was blandly gracious.

‘Not exactly a difficulty, my lord. Your daughter is keen to read and she loves books. Would you be willing to allow her to come and read here in the library when you are at home? She is very careful and will cause no damage. Perhaps after her morning lessons? I thought that she would care to see the plant illustrations and the books with the coloured pictures of animals and birds.’ If anything would create a bond between them, this might be the answer. At least it would put them in the same room together. But would he refuse? Would he say that it was her responsibility to entertain and educate his daughter?

‘Of course. Let her come.’ He would have turned away, the matter as far as he was concerned settled.

‘Also,’ she added as an apparent afterthought, ‘she enjoys stories.’

‘Are you suggesting, then, that I should read to her?’ The Faringdon brows rose.

‘It is not my position to suggest that, sir.’

‘No? You are, after all, her governess.’ A line marred his brow as his attention was caught by this fair lady who had such an air of insistence about her.

‘Beth will enjoy it, sir.’

‘Beth?’ The brows rose again.

‘Forgive me, my lord.’ Sarah sighed inwardly. She had forgotten her somewhat high-handed change of the child’s name. ‘Celestine. It is just that John does not pronounce it well. And she enjoys being called Beth.’ He would probably demur, she decided as she awaited his reply. It might be that it was a family name that he would wish to keep.

‘I see.’ He narrowed his eyes at his housekeeper. Neat and self-effacing, yet supremely competent, as he always saw her. But with a strong managing streak, it would seem. He felt as he came under the gaze of her guileless blue eyes that he had been penned very neatly into a corner, although for what purpose he was unsure. Even to the change of name of his daughter! But if it was acceptable to the child …

‘Then Beth it shall be. Let her come here, as I said.’

In considerable relief at this anticlimax, Sarah curtsied and turned to go, leaving Lord Joshua to return to his seat by the window. Without thought, he moved awkwardly so that he took his full weight on his damaged hip, staggered a little, and in so doing brushed against a book on the edge of his desk. It fell to the floor, a minor mishap. Sarah’s immediate instinct was to pick it up.

‘Leave it.’ The order was instant and harsh. ‘I am not a cripple.’

Tension, sharp and diamond bright, crackled in the still room.

‘I was never under an impression that you were, my lord,’ Sarah replied immediately, as if the tone had not startled her. She bent to pick up the book.

‘Leave it, I said.’

She straightened, eyes wide on his face. ‘But why, my lord? There is no need for you to stoop, to put added pressure on your strained joint. It would be foolish of you to do so.’ For a brief moment she saw the raw, unguarded expression in his eyes. A sharp physical pain. But an even sharper humiliation. And she understood without words that such a man would detest his dependence on others. Her instinct, her driving need, was to approach him. To touch, offer comfort, soothe with soft hands and kind words. But she could not. She was a servant and it was not her place. And he was not, she thought, a man to accept such comfort.

Lord Joshua stiffened under the gentle but totally unexpected reprimand. She was looking at him, he realised, as if he were a spoilt child in her care, one who had been ill mannered enough to reject a kind offer. And she was right, of course, he accepted with a disgust as the housekeeper continued to upbraid him with perfect propriety. ‘I am employed as your housekeeper to pick up after you, my lord.’

‘Yet you will disobey me, Mrs Russell.’ Inner fury still vibrated through his body.

‘You can, of course, dismiss me if that is your will, sir. For picking up a book.’ There was the faintest question, a suggestion of censure in her voice and her composure challenged him. He flushed with a sense of shame, even as her forthright words earned Sarah a sharp glance. But he had seen the stupidity of his rejection of her help, born of lack of patience and clumsy frustration at his inability to move about with the readiness of before, his incarceration within the four walls when used to a life of action and involvement. His behaviour was unpardonable. His manners must disgust. He took a steady breath and tightened his control.

‘Forgive me, Mrs Russell. I was not considerate.’

‘No. But as my employer you do not have to be so.’

She placed the book back on to the desk and went out, leaving him more than a little astounded at the parting shot. So meek and mild as his housekeeper appeared. Nothing like. The lady had teeth! And a confidence above the norm for a housekeeper of such tender years.

Sarah closed her eyes as the door shut behind her and wondered what she could possibly have been about, what fierce dragon she had unleashed from its cave. Seeing the frustration and impatience, she had appreciated its source and her heart had been touched in that moment of physical weakness. But to tell her employer that he was stupid and illogical—if not in so many words—what had she done?

Yet there were no repercussions other than the child spending time in her father’s company, in an undertaking that the little girl could not resist. All those books with their coloured plates and leather bindings with gilt and red tooling. Altogether a neat little plot that Sarah prayed would be beneficial for both.

As it proved to be.

Lord Joshua found his daughter to be not tentative or shy, but painfully reserved with an equally painful desire for approval. She came into the library next day, wished him good morning, chose a book and sat in silence, curled up in a window seat, turning the pages with uncanny deliberation. He looked over at her. What did one say to an eight-year-old child whom one did not know? She seemed content with her own company and yet here was a chance he should not overlook since Mrs Russell had effectively thrown them together. He must make a beginning.

‘Celestine …’

‘Yes, Papa.’

‘Mrs Russell says that in the schoolroom you are called Beth.’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you prefer it?’

‘Yes, Papa.’

‘Shall I call you Beth?’

‘If you wish it, Papa.’ Not exactly enthusiastic, but it was not an outright no.

‘Then I will. It is a pretty name.’ He smiled at her across the width of the library. And, after a heartbeat, she smiled back.

Which was enough for one day, his lordship decided. Mrs Russell and her stories could wait. They both returned to their silent perusal of the printed word, at least one of them aware that an important bridge had been crossed. Lord Joshua found a smile touch his lips as he watched his daughter and considered the possible tactics of Mrs Sarah Russell.

Lord Joshua met the other child in his establishment in the stables. John withdrew into one of the empty stalls as his lordship came in to inspect the horseflesh. Lord Joshua noted the quick movement and spoke to the silent shadow.