Secrets in the Regency Ballroom: The Wayward Governess / His Counterfeit Condesa. Joanna Fulford

sir. As you suspected, she really was very tired.’

      ‘Yes, I imagine she was. It was a long journey and there has been all the upheaval attendant on her removal. What she needs now is some stability.’ He regarded her keenly. ‘I take it that you have seen the nursery.’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      He smiled faintly. ‘It has been some years since I was there, and is no doubt lacking in some essentials. You may have whatever you need for the discharge of your duties. Money is no object. Just tell me what you want and I’ll see that you get it.’

      Somewhat taken aback, she thanked him. ‘There are a few things missing,’ she admitted, ‘chiefly books suitable for a child of Lucy’s age.’

      ‘That will be rectified as soon as possible. In the interim she needs some time to grow accustomed to her new surroundings. It will all be very strange and frightening. Let her have plenty of fresh air and exercise, Miss Davenport. Then introduce her lessons gradually.’

      ‘As you wish, sir.’

      ‘This is her home now and I want her to feel at ease here.’

      For the second time Claire was taken aback for there could be no mistaking the sincerity with which he spoke. There was, besides, real compassion in the orders he had given and she was touched.

      ‘I will do my best to see that she does, sir.’

      ‘I am sure you will.’ He paused, surveying her keenly. ‘And what of you, Miss Davenport? Does your room meet with your approval?’

      ‘Oh, yes. It is beautiful.’

      Again she found herself caught unawares. She knew enough of life to realise that employers usually gave little thought to the comfort of their servants.

      ‘Good. If you find you need anything else, tell Mrs Hughes and she will arrange it.’

      ‘Thank you. That is most kind.’

      For a moment there was silence and she felt acutely aware of that disconcerting grey gaze. Then he smiled.

      ‘Then if there is nothing else I will not detain you.’

      She dropped a graceful curtsy and retraced her steps to the door, pausing briefly to look over her shoulder. However, he had turned back towards the fire and seemed to have dismissed her from his mind. Claire opened the door quietly and slipped away. On returning to her room she sat down and began to write the promised letter to Ellen.

      In the days that followed she heeded her instructions. The early autumn weather was pleasant, so it was no hardship to take her young charge out of doors. Besides which it gave Claire a chance to talk to her and find out more about her. Although she was shy and her education had been somewhat disrupted due to circumstances, Lucy was not unintelligent and had an enquiring mind. She was quick to learn the names of the flowers and trees and living creatures they encountered on these walks. When told a story she was an avid listener. Little by little Claire added to their activities, always taking care to vary them and to try to make them interesting.

      She had not expected to see much of her employer at all, but he occasionally came to the nursery. One day, when teaching Lucy her letters, she looked up to see the tall figure in the doorway. Realising who it was, she felt her heartbeat quicken. Following her gaze, Lucy saw him too and paused in her task, regarding him uncertainly.

      He smiled down at her. ‘How are you today, Lucy?’

      She reddened and lowered her eyes. ‘Very well, thank you, Uncle Marcus.’

      ‘What have you been doing?’

      Lucy moved her hand so that he could see the copybook in which she had been working. He surveyed it closely and the letters written in large childish script.

      ‘Well done,’ he said then. ‘You’re making good progress, I see.’

      Lucy’s blush deepened. Over her head he exchanged glances with Claire.

      ‘Well done, Miss Davenport.’

      She had half expected to hear irony in the tone, but there was none and her own face grew a little warmer.

      ‘She is quick to learn,’ she replied.

      ‘I’m pleased to hear it. I should not like my niece to be an ignoramus.’

      ‘I can assure you, sir, she is far from being anything of the sort.’

      ‘Good.’ Marcus looked down at his niece. ‘Now, Lucy, copy out all those letters again. I wish to speak to Miss Davenport.’

      Obediently the child returned to her task. Seeing her once again employed, he drew Claire aside.

      ‘The books and materials you asked for have been ordered,’ he said. ‘They should be here within the week. Is there anything else you require?’

      ‘Not at present, thank you.’

      ‘If you think of anything later, be sure to let me know.’ He paused. ‘Has the child’s appetite returned? Is she sleeping properly?’

      ‘Yes, sir, on both counts.’

      ‘Does she seem to be settling down?’

      ‘I think she is beginning to, yes, but it is likely to take a while before she really feels at home.’

      ‘Yes, I suppose it will.’ For a moment he surveyed her in silence. ‘Well, then, I won’t detain you further.’ Throwing another glance towards his niece, he took his leave of them.

      She watched the departing figure a moment and then went back to see what Lucy was doing. The child looked up, regarding her quizzically.

      ‘What’s a nigneraymus, Miss Davenport?’

      Claire bit back a smile. ‘A very stupid person. Not like you at all.’

      ‘Oh.’ Lucy digested the information thoughtfully. ‘If I learn all my letters, will Uncle Marcus like me better?’

      ‘He likes you now.’

      ‘Does he?’

      ‘Of course. Did he not bring you here to live with him?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Well, then.’

      ‘It’s just that I don’t see him very much.’

      ‘Your uncle is very busy,’ Claire replied. ‘Nether-clough is a big estate and it takes up a lot of his time.’

      Lucy nodded slowly. ‘Papa was always busy, too.’

      ‘Gentlemen often are, but it doesn’t mean they don’t care for you.’ She put a reassuring hand on the child’s shoulder and smiled, hoping that what she said was true.

      As she and Lucy went for their afternoon walk Claire pondered the matter. She knew that after months without a master, Netherclough really did need Marcus’s close attention. Very often she would see him ride out with Mr Fisk, the land agent, or else he would be closeted in the study with piles of paperwork. So far as the physical welfare of his niece was concerned he had shown a great deal of consideration and compliance. She lacked for nothing. The same was true of her education: the list of books and schoolroom materials Claire had submitted had not been questioned. It seemed he trusted her judgement and was prepared to back it financially. Of course, as he had intimated, money was no object. If Mrs Hughes was to be believed, the Edenbridge family was among the wealthiest in the country. However, when it came to the child’s emotional needs the case was rather different. Marcus spent very little time with her, most of it comprising short visits to the nursery, as today. Although his manner showed interest, he seemed to hold himself aloof somehow as though, having seen to all the material aspects of his guardianship, he was absolved from deeper involvement. She hoped that, as time went on and matters fell into a routine, he might be able to spend more time with Lucy.

      She had