Temptation Of A Governess

‘No, thank you, Fingle. I, um, I am going up to say goodnight to the children and then I think I shall retire.’

‘Very well then, miss, shall I take the tray away?’

‘Yes, please do.’ She remained in the shadows and watched him depart with the untouched tray. No, she thought wretchedly, it was not tea that her body craved this evening.

* * *

‘What in the name of all that’s wonderful were you about?’ Alex demanded of himself as he drove through the darkened lanes.

The cool night air had cleared his brain sufficiently for him to think straight again. The brandy had momentarily clouded his judgement. Thin redheads had never appealed to him and neither did headstrong, opinionated women. Diana was a lady, and his sister-in-law, to boot. It had been reprehensible of him to ply her with drink. True, she had annoyed him when she had called him irresponsible. Who was she to criticise him, to accuse him of trying to buy her? He had merely offered her the pick of any of his houses. By heaven, many a man would not even have given her a choice in the matter.

His mouth tightened. If he hadn’t written her that letter assuring her she could stay at Chantreys, then perhaps he might now have ordered her and the children to leave, but he could not in honour do so. And he was not without honour, however dissolute she might think him. He gave a little grunt of frustration, knowing he had not acted honourably this evening. Her responses had been passionate but inexpert. Why, he would wager on it that she had never been kissed before. He recalled her look when he had put her away from him, her eyes huge and dark, regarding him with a mixture of wonder and apprehension.

It was not his habit to pursue innocent virgins and she was most surely an innocent. A veritable Sleeping Beauty, whose passion he had awakened with a kiss. His mouth twisted. But he was no Prince Charming. He had been on the town long enough to know what happened to men of experience who married innocent young women. They were bored within a month and within two they had set up a mistress, leaving a wife distraught at the desertion.

His hands jerked on the reins at the thought and he was obliged to give his attention to the greys, who objected strongly to his unaccustomed treatment. No, he thought, when the team was once more running smoothly, he had no intention of entering into such a marriage. He had determined to marry for convenience, a woman who understood what was required, who would make no demands upon him emotionally.

His mind wandered back to the memory of Diana, chin up, eyes challenging. He recalled the sudden stirring of interest, a flicker that had become irresistible when he had caught her fingers. He had only meant to prevent her from committing an indiscretion, but with her tiny hand clasped against his heart he had felt an irresistible urge to pull her into his arms. She had felt it, too, that connection between them. He had read it in her eyes, along with an invitation that he had accepted far too readily.

So there was another reason to remove Diana Grensham from Chantreys. She was governess to his wards and could not risk the loss of reputation that would result from an affair. And for himself, he would not want that on his conscience. Diana Grensham was no drab from the stews, willing to indulge in a quick tumble. When he had kissed her he had recognised her passionate nature and it had drawn a response from him. He knew that these attractions were never long lasting, but Diana was not experienced in flirtations—what if she were to develop a tendre for him?

He reached the outskirts of London and bowled through the town, his mind made up. Whichever way one looked at it, the best thing would be for Diana and the children to remove from Chantreys and preferably a good distance from London, well out of harm’s way. The problem was how to achieve it? The devil of it was that so far Diana had proved surprisingly stubborn. She was determined not to capitulate. His jaw tightened. Well, he could be stubborn, too. This was no longer about the children, it was a battle of wills, and he was not about to lose.

Chapter Three (#ulink_aa0bd356-964c-5943-b4a7-236dd1b20a54)

The following day brought word from Chantreys, the letter arriving at Alex’s lodgings just as he was about to set off for Jackson’s Boxing Academy. With a faint sense of satisfaction he broke the seal. Perhaps his lapse yesterday had not been such a bad thing. Diana was probably so mortified that she wanted nothing more than to remove as far away from him as possible.

His hopes were short lived. The missive was brief and to the point. Miss Grensham sent her compliments—hah!—and wrote to inform him that she had decided the children should remain at Chantreys for the next year at least.

‘She has decided!’ he exclaimed, resisting with an effort the temptation to crush the paper between his hands. He forced himself to continue reading to the end.

Miss Grensham therefore considers further discussion of the children’s future would be of little benefit. However, if Lord Davenport wishes to call upon the children a message to Chantreys ahead of his visit would be appreciated, in order that Lady Margret and Miss Florence might be ready to receive him.

Alex swore explosively. Nothing would persuade him to make an appointment to visit his own property! He threw the letter on the table, snatched up his hat and gloves and set off for Bond Street.

Striding through the crowds brought some relief and after an hour in Jackson’s Boxing Academy, sparring with the great man himself, he was able to view Diana’s letter more dispassionately.

She had made it clear that she did not wish to move from Chantreys, but it was equally obvious that she was reluctant to meet with him again after their last encounter. That was the reason she wished for prior warning of his visits to the house, so that when he called she could arrange for Nurse to bring the children downstairs. For a moment he recalled that impromptu game of battledore upon the lawn and felt a tinge of regret that they would not do it again. But that could not be helped. She must be persuaded that it would be better for her and the girls if they moved out of Chantreys altogether. If only he could think of a way to do it.

* * *

A week later Alex was still no nearer solving the dilemma and such was his distraction that he almost walked past Gervase Wollerton in Jermyn Street without a word.

‘By Jove, Alex, I don’t know when I last saw you looking so blue-devilled,’ observed his friend, when Alex had stopped and begged his pardon. ‘Something amiss? I was going to look in at White’s, but if you want to talk...’

‘No, I don’t,’ said Alex. ‘I am on my way to see Lady Frances, if you want to give me your arm.’

Mr Wollerton lifted his eyeglass and surveyed Alex.

‘Thing is,’ he said slowly, ‘not sure I can do that, my friend. Not with you in that coat. In fact, if it wasn’t growing dark, I would hesitate to acknowledge you.’

Alex’s lips twitched.

‘Gammon,’ he said rudely. ‘Have you been listening to Brummell again, Gervase? What is it this time, are the buttons too large, is my coat not plain enough for the Beau’s taste?’

‘No, no,’ Mr Wollerton assured him. ‘It ain’t the buttons and the coat’s plain enough. It’s the cut. Shouldn’t be surprised if you can shrug yourself into it.’

‘Of course I can shrug myself into it.’ Impatiently Alex took his arm and urged him on. ‘I am happy to follow Brummell’s lead when it comes to clean linen and simple, dark coats, but I’m damned if I’ll spend hours each morning letting my man dress me.’

‘Which is why the Beau will never be seen in the street with you, dear boy.’

Alex gave a bark of laughter. ‘I shall live without that privilege.’

‘I think you will have to,’ murmured his friend. ‘But at least you have come out of the sullens.’

‘I was not in the sullens,’ Alex objected, preparing to cross Piccadilly. ‘Are you coming with me to see Frances, or would you rather retrace your steps and go to White’s?’

‘Happy to call upon Lady Frances.’ Mr Wollerton coughed delicately. ‘If I won’t be de trop?’

‘Good God, no. What makes you think that?’

Wollerton gave a slight shrug.

‘You seem to be getting mighty close, taking her out to Chantreys and all that.’

Alex frowned.

‘I haven’t taken her to Chantreys.’

‘Well, she has seen it at all events.’

‘What? How can she have done so?’

‘She drove out to view the place recently, heard her telling Anglesey about it at the assembly last night.’

‘The devil she did.’

Gervase brushed a speck of fluff from his sleeve as he said, ‘I think she aspires to be your countess, old friend.’

Alex scowled. ‘I thought I had made it very plain I am not yet in the market for a wife.’

‘So you are not meeting her tête-à-tête tonight?’ asked Wollerton, looking relieved.

‘Great heavens, no. She has invited all the world and his wife.’

Mr Wollerton protested mildly, ‘The world might turn up, but not so sure about the wives. Not the high sticklers, at any rate.’

‘Thank God for that,’ muttered Alex. ‘That’s one of the main reasons I go there, to get away from the single females and their mamas on the hunt for every eligible bachelor. This Season has been particularly grim, having been obliged to escort Lady Hune and her protégée to just the sort of parties that I most abhor.’ He quickened his pace. ‘Come along, it’s starting to rain.’