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

to hear himself praised for something he felt best placed in the past where it belonged.

      ‘I’ll tell Miss Goodrum to wait on you in the front parlour immediately, sir.’

      ‘Please request her to visit me there when she has had time to take her refreshments. I should wish to be on good terms with the young woman. Tell me, Mrs Brancaster, what are your first impressions?’

      ‘Of the new governess?’ Mrs Brancaster frowned. ‘I’ve only just met her, sir, but...she seems very calm and sure of herself.’

      ‘Do I detect a note of disapproval?’

      ‘Oh, no, sir, nothing like that I assure you.’ The housekeeper was thoughtful. ‘It’s just...she isn’t quite like any of the others we’ve had. They usually have a look about them...sort of resigned and disappointed...but she’s not like that at all.’

      Rupert quirked an eyebrow, amused. ‘I see. An unusual governess. How interesting. I hope she is intelligent enough to know that you cannot keep a girl of Francesca’s age always in the schoolroom. However, we shall see.’

      ‘You mustn’t take against her for anything I’ve said, sir. I’ve only just met her and I’m sure she’s perfectly respectable.’

      ‘Oh, I’m certain of it. Lady Mary would not otherwise have employed her. She comes with impeccable references. I am quite looking forward to meeting her.’

      ‘I’ll send her along in about ten minutes—and your refreshments will follow as soon as they’re ready. I’ll have your room prepared immediately.’

      ‘Thank you. You always did spoil me, Mrs Brancaster. I can see I’ve been missing a treat by not coming down more often.’

      Mrs Brancaster positively glowed and scurried away to set everything in motion. Rupert smiled to himself as he went into the house. Nothing much had changed here. It still smelled of roses and lavender; the furniture was mostly good oak and polished to within an inch of its life, though in the main salon he recalled seeing some mahogany Chippendale pieces.

      It was what it had always been, a pleasant country house, comfortable rather than elegant, and he could feel its welcome as he made his way to the parlour. Vases of flowers stood everywhere and the smell of roses was even stronger in the parlour. Merrivale had good servants and it was a pity the marquess didn’t spend more time here, but Rupert supposed the memories were too strong for him. He’d grieved for his wife for years and the loss of his daughter had nearly done him in, bringing on a heart attack that had left him with a weakness. Rupert suspected that the old man found it too upsetting to visit often for reasons of his own, but it hadn’t been wise to let the children run wild. Francesca in particular would need to be schooled in the manners she needed for society and he could only hope that he would find some support in the new governess—because he was more used to dealing with ladies of a different kind.

      Rupert laughed softly in his throat. His latest mistress had been most disappointed to hear that he was leaving town and did not expect to return for months.

      ‘What am I to do without you?’ she’d asked, as she ran her long nails down his naked back. ‘Do you expect me to languish here alone?’

      ‘I expect you to take a new protector within a week,’ Rupert told her with a mocking smile. ‘We both know this was merely a convenient arrangement for us both, my dear Annais. You will find yourself adequately compensated by my parting gift, so do not pretend to feel more than you do.’

      Her nails had scored his back, her eyes glinting with temper. Rupert had known she was angry at being given her freedom to find a new lover, but the diamonds he’d gifted her should soon dry her tears and he was aware that she’d been casting glances at Lord Rowley for a while now. He would bet that the gentleman found himself in her bed within the week. His own feelings were not touched. It was a long time since he’d found more than a fleeting pleasure in the arms of a woman—since Madeline had broken his heart before he went off to fight for his king and country.

      A picture of Madeline’s beautiful face and long blonde curls passed through his mind and was ruthlessly dismissed. When she’d married the old Duke of Marley for money, he’d put her out of his heart and mind. At first he’d been angry, bitter, broken by her scorn and her betrayal, but then he’d found something more worthwhile—and that was the camaraderie of his friends. It was only when he’d lost them that his heart had become encased in ice.

      His one-time friends believed that he had done something careless that had led to the deaths of several of their comrades. Rupert knew that he was innocent of their charges, but he refused to explain or to tell them the truth about what had happened that night. If they could see only what was in front of their noses, then they were not worth bothering over—they were certainly not his friends and not the men he’d thought them to be. Where was the trust that should have existed between them? Where was the respect he believed he was entitled to expect? Since they had chosen to believe evil of him he would not defend himself. Let them think what they chose. He’d shut out the memory of their friendship, becoming in truth the man society believed him: a hardened rake and a ruthless card player.

      ‘You wished to see me, Lord Myers?’

      The voice was soft, but there was just the trace of an accent. Rupert turned to look at the young woman who had entered the parlour as he stood gazing out at the park. Although no beauty, she was of medium height, slim, attractive with dark hair that he knew carried tints of red in the sunlight. Her eyes were a bluish-green and her mouth pleasantly full. She carried herself well and there was a hint of pride in her face—also something else?

      Did she seem wary? A little uneasy, perhaps?

      ‘You are Miss Hester Goodrum?’

      He thought there was a slight hesitation before she inclined her head. ‘I am the new governess, sir.’

      ‘Miss Goodrum?’

      ‘Yes.’ This time her voice was firm and without hesitation. ‘I believe you are to be the children’s mentor?’

      ‘My uncle has requested me to be John’s mentor until he goes to his college. I am also here to see that Francesca is ready to enter society next Season. She will be seventeen then and I believe arrangements will be made for her to stay with a suitable lady next spring. Until then you are here to keep her from getting into mischief.’

      ‘I dare say I can find ways to do that, sir. Once I have established the level she has reached in her studies, we can plan a new schedule.’

      ‘I hardly think you can expect to keep a young woman like Francesca in the schoolroom all day, Miss Goodrum.’

      ‘I would not be foolish enough to try,’ she replied, her head up, eyes meeting his. All sign of the hesitation had gone now. ‘Perhaps some poetry, music and dancing lessons would not go amiss. I imagine she already has some knowledge of French, Latin and drawing. We can find some way of making the lessons more interesting, I dare say. John may need more tuition, but I think that will be your province, Lord Myers. I am prepared to give him certain lessons if you wish, of course. I could take history and literature and mathematics. However, geography and the sciences were never my strong point, though I am willing to attempt them should you wish?’

      ‘I am amazed you are able to offer such a wide curriculum. I am sure my uncle did not tell me you were so accomplished.’

      Did he detect a hint of colour in her cheeks—a lessening of her confidence? Why? He’d just paid her a compliment, yet he seemed to have made her uneasy. For a fleeting moment she looked uncertain, but then her head came up and she bestowed a cool smile on him.

      ‘I dare say you are able to take the boy’s education to a higher degree than I could, my lord. However, I am willing to help should I be required.’

      Rupert’s instincts were alerted. She certainly was an unusual governess. Her manner was far from that one might expect of a woman in her late twenties who had little expectation of life other than to work for a succession of employers until she retired.