Regency Surrender: Infamous Reputations: The Chaperon's Seduction / Temptation of a Governess

‘But I shall not be on my own once the girls return.’

‘Then I shall keep you company until then.’

His cool response flustered her.

‘But I do not wish for your company.’

He shifted to the far end of the bench and twisted in his seat to look at her, resting one hand negligently along the backrest. Phyllida remained rigidly upright, staring straight ahead. He really was the most infuriating man. Well, she hoped he appreciated her profile.

‘We could converse,’ he said at last.

‘We have already done so, on the way here.’

‘But there must be something we have not yet talked about.’

‘No.’

She could feel the warmth of his gaze upon her. It sent little shards of excitement to pierce the armour of cool civility with which she had surrounded herself. If only he would go away! She recalled reading somewhere that the best form of defence was attack and she turned to face him.

‘Yes, there is something. Why do you remain in Bath, Mr Arrandale?’

‘I enjoy spending time with my great-aunt.’

‘Is that truly the reason?’ She subjected him to a searching look.

‘Yes, truly. She was laid very low when Cassandra eloped, and I know how cruel the gossipmongers can be. None better.’ He raised his brows. ‘You look sceptical, Lady Phyllida. Do you not believe me?’

She pursed her lips.

‘I can believe you came to Lady Hune’s assistance when she wrote to you, but she is much better now and the image of you playing companion to an elderly lady does not quite fit with your reputation.’

‘Perhaps you should not put too much store by all you hear of me, ma’am. I am extremely fond of Lady Hune. When I was younger she was the only one of my family who had any faith in me and while she needs me I shall remain in Bath.’

‘But it is hardly London, is it? Do you not find it dull here? After all, Lady Hune demands very little of your time.’

‘True, but there are gambling hells, if one knows where to look, and—’

‘And heiresses to chase.’

‘That is not what I was going to say.’

‘No, I thought I would save you the trouble.’

‘There is sufficient society in Bath to entertain me for a few weeks, Lady Phyllida. I am not so very exacting.’

Oh, heavens, he was smiling at her, just as he had done in the chapel at Farleigh. She could feel the tug of attraction building again. It must not, could not happen. With relief she heard Ellen and Julia’s girlish laughter near at hand. It gave her the strength to look away and she observed the girls running towards her.

‘We lost all track of the time, Lady Phyllida,’ said Julia guiltily. ‘I do hope we were not gone too long.’

Phyllida rose to her feet and replied with determined cheerfulness, ‘Not at all. I am glad I did not have to resort to my map to find you and bring you out. However, we had best be getting back now.’ She turned to Richard. ‘We can trespass on your time no longer, sir. I am going to escort Miss Julia home now.’

‘Too soon, Lady Phyllida. My way lies with you. It would look very odd if I were to follow you all the way to Laura Place, would it not?’

‘It would indeed.’ Ellen giggled.

She showed no desire to release Julia’s arm in favour of Richard Arrandale’s, which relieved Phyllida’s mind of its greatest worry, but the gentleman was in no way discomposed and merely fell into step beside Phyllida, which threw up quite a different anxiety.

She felt such conflicting emotions about this man. She knew he was a rake and even though she suspected—nay, she was sure—he was pursuing Ellen, she could not dislike him. Just having him at her side set her pulse jumping. She thought it would be easier if she cut the acquaintance altogether, but that might well precipitate the thing she was most anxious to avoid. Phyllida knew Ellen liked Richard Arrandale, but at present it was no more than that. If Phyllida was to forbid Ellen to have anything more to do with him she was very much afraid it would invest Richard with an air of danger and illicit excitement that a spirited young girl would find irresistible.

Her companion showed no desire to talk, so Phyllida was able to consider her dilemma in peace, until she realised they had traversed almost the length of Great Pulteney Street in silence. Even worse, Ellen and Julia were nowhere in sight.

‘They hurried on ahead and are by now at Lady Wakefield’s house,’ Richard told her, as if aware of her alarm.

He kept up with her easily as she quickened her step and they reached the Wakefields’ door just as the two girls emerged and Julia very prettily requested that Ellen might join them for dinner.

‘I have asked Mama,’ she added, ‘and she says she will send Ellen home in the carriage, if you will allow it, Lady Phyllida.’

Ellen clasped her hands and subjected Phyllida to a beseeching look.

‘Please tell me I may stay, darling Stepmama. And I am sure Mr Arrandale will accompany you, so you need have no worry about walking back to Charles Street unattended.’

‘I should be delighted to escort Lady Phyllida,’ he responded promptly.

Ellen beamed at him.

‘Then it is all settled to everyone’s satisfaction!’ Ellen reached up and gave Phyllida a hasty kiss on the cheek, then ran indoors with Julia.

Speechless, Phyllida watched them go. This was not at all to her satisfaction. Richard held out his arm to her and silently she placed her fingers on his sleeve. They began to walk.

‘Are you going to tell me that you are quite capable of walking back to Charles Street unattended?’

‘I should not say anything so uncivil,’ she replied loftily.

‘That’s put me in my place.’

She caught herself up on a laugh.

‘You are quite shameless, you know.’

‘I fear you are right. And I am going to prove it by asking you why you married Tatham.’

* * *

It was an impertinent question and Richard wondered if he had gone too far. She had every right to protest. She might even snatch her arm away and refuse to walk further with him. Instead she answered him quietly.

‘Because he offered for me. I didn’t take, you see, amongst the ton, but I had very little to recommend me. If you really do remember then you will know how gauche and awkward I was then.’

‘So Sir Evelyn proposed.’