Page 7 of A Loving Governess in Disguise

Chapter 7

Edward was at a complete loss for words. She had only been with him for a matter of days, but when she disappeared, he thought she had already given in. She wouldn’t have been the first to have done so.

Looking across at her, he wondered where she was finding the humour from as she was smiling at him, seconds away from laughing. He could feel his temper growing hot, but he tried to keep his composure.

“Who wrote this?” he asked a second time.

He saw a change in her face as though she had realized something.

“That was in my room.”

“I am aware of that. That is not what I am asking–”

“That was in my room. Why do you have it?”

He did not have an answer for that. In truth, he knew that his valet was watching her, but he had not thought he was being thorough enough, so he had looked for clues himself. It had been easy enough, as he only needed to enter her room, and he saw the letter sitting proudly on her desk. He had scanned it quickly before running to look for her, but she was already gone, taking one of his carriages at that.

“I have a right to know what is happening in my household,” he responded.

“And I have a right to my privacy. What were you doing in there?”

“Clearly, I was correct, no matter the motive, because I found this.”

“And I shall assume that you read it, too?”

“Of course I did.”

“Well, not only is that an abhorrent thing to do, but you clearly did not read it well enough.”

He hated her tone, but he hated even more that she was mocking him. It made him furious, but there was an upward twitching at the corners of her mouth again.

“I am perfectly capable of reading. I do not need a lecture from a mere governess about that. You are to teach my niece, not me.”

“As much as I dislike that you think my property to be your own, I would like you to read it again.”

And so he did, but nothing in it warranted her smirk, as far as he was concerned. When he looked back at her, she took the letter from him, placing it on the desk and pointing to it.

“L. Gulliver,” she read aloud. “Do you not recognize that name?”

“No. It appears we do not cavort with the same sort of man.”

“Gulliver. The character in Gulliver’s Travels.”

The anger he had felt subsided rather quickly, and the moment it did he felt very foolish, indeed.

“Then where did you–”

“Isabella wrote it. We were reading yesterday, and I suppose she wanted me to know that she has read more challenging things than the fables she had selected. I wonder if she is trying to impress me, too, by writing something of this nature. It also came with being a trick, which I was told she enjoys.”

He was angry again, but this time with himself. With all the stunts Ella had pulled, he should have thought of her first when he saw it. Looking at the writing again, it was far more similar to that of a young girl than of a gentleman. He felt like a fool, but he had already done too much to take it all back.

“Miss Pembroke, I–”

“No, I understand. I am simply some woman who has come into your home. I know that you do not trust me.”

“I do.”

“No you do not. If you did, you would not feel the need to look through my belongings. You would not enter my private quarters to begin with. You certainly wouldn’t have me watched, either.”

He bristled.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you truly believe I haven’t noticed the two of you? I can feel you watching me, you and that valet of yours. I have put it to one side, hoping that it would stop, but this–”

She snatched the letter from him, and he did not respond.

“This is too much,” she continued. “I have done nothing to warrant this. I have been good to Isabella, even if she does not want much of anything to do with me, and I have been trying my best for her. If that is not enough, then it is no surprise you have had so many governesses.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you have placed the entirety of the blame on your niece and claimed that she is too spritely, but I would wager that there is something about your controlling nature that has always had a say in it, too.”

He had nothing to say to that. He thought back to the other governesses he had found, and she was right; he had never trusted them and had always kept them under close watch for fear they would do something to Ella. Had they sensed it, too?

“Miss Pembroke, I apologize. I only–”

“You are only protecting your niece – is that what you wish to say? You do not mean to cause discomfort; you simply want the best for her. I already know that, and I thought there was an understanding between us that I wanted the same thing.”

“Wanted? Do you mean you no longer do?”

Her eyes, though grey, burned into his.

“Of course I do. She is a lovely little girl. What I do not want is to be treated like a criminal when I have done nothing to provoke it.”

“I understand.”

“You do not. You do not understand the first thing about me.”

She was not speaking to him as a servant should, but he found himself not minding it too terribly. If anything, he respected the fact that she was so willing to tell him how she felt. It showed strength, which she would need if she wanted to continue with her role. He hoped, despite himself, that she did.

“As an apology, might you accompany me on a walk?” he asked.

Her hands were folded gently in front of her, and she looked at them rather than him. She was under no obligation, but he was vaguely aware of the fact that she wouldn’t say no to him, given their positions. Then again, with how passionately she had defended herself, perhaps she would.

“I ought to return to Isabella. She asked that we practice arithmetic.”

“Yes, it appears to be the one thing she has not immediately understood. However, she will understand if you cannot help her with that yet. She will likely be grateful to play instead. Please join me.”

She nodded gingerly, and the two of them rose from their seats to find Isabella and explain the change of plan. She seemed disappointed but was pleased to see Miss Pembroke holding the letter.

“You found it!” she beamed.

It was another twist of the knife, a reminder that he was not as clever as he thought himself to be.

“I did, indeed.” Miss Pembroke smiled in return. “You are very good at writing. Thank you for showing me.”

“Did you believe it?”

“For a moment, yes. I thought a big, strong gentleman would take me to a far-off place, but then I realized what had happened. How clever you are!”

Back in high spirits, Ella ran off to play for a while. It was perfect, giving him time to apologize for his actions. They left for the gardens, and he noticed how she looked longingly at the roses.

“Are you recalling my fall, perchance?” he asked, and she laughed softly.

“No, they are simply my favourite flowers. Although, now that you mention it, I will say that the fall was excellent. Isabella is good at what she does.”

“Too good, I fear. She has an intelligence about her that very few children have. I worry that when she meets other ladies, they will not like her out of jealousy.”

“It is entirely possible. There is also the possibility that she will have difficulty finding a suitor. Gentlemen do not typically like being near a lady more intelligent than themselves.”

He laughed at that and then noticed that she was looking at him pointedly.

“I am perfectly happy not to be the most intelligent person in a room,” he argued with mock anguish. “It happens to me often enough.”

“Ah, you spend a lot of time at social events, then?”

“No,” he joked. “Only with a seven-year-old.”

She laughed again, a real laugh this time.

She was a pretty lady. He hadn’t really given himself pause to think about that yet, but now that he did so, he wondered how he hadn’t before. She certainly looked younger than three-and-twenty, but there was a quiet wisdom about her.

It was more than that, however. When she was talking to Ella, there was a sparkle to her, which clearly reflected in the girl. They had formed a bond quickly, even if he knew Ella might eventually try and be difficult. He wished he knew why she did that.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, trying to ignore the thought.

“To Cambridge Manor?”

“To be a governess, but yes.”

“Well, I came to Cambridge with very little, and the truth is that I met Mr Swanson, and he brought me here in an instant. He seemed to know that I would do well here.”

“And do you believe that he was correct?”

“I do. There have been difficulties, and Isabella has her moments, but I can see why she is doing it.”

He paused, and she came to a stop beside him.

“How can you see it?”

“I do not know. I simply watched how she behaved and came to my conclusion.”

“And what is that conclusion?”

She hesitated momentarily, playing with her hands as she looked away, flustered.

“She is lonely,” she said at last.

“Nonsense. Before your arrival, I spent every waking moment with her.”

“Yes, but I am here for a reason. You know as well as I that she needs a mother figure. That is why you needed to find a governess, is it not?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. She had read him perfectly.

“Indeed, but that isn’t to say she was lonely.”

“And she hasn’t said in so many words that she is or was, but I tried to see things like she does. She lost her mother and father, and then she was suddenly placed in a new home. She is fortunate that you care for her, but you have your duties. There hasn’t been anyone that was only here for her.”

“But if that were the case, why did she make each governess run away?”

“I do not know. Perhaps we never shall, but what is important is that I am here, and it shall take more than swapped ink bottles to change that.”

“Swapped ink?”

With a blush, she explained Ella’s trick with the blackberries. They both laughed about it, and then, at last, continued on their way.

“And what of you and your duties?” he asked after a while, and she stiffened.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you are a lady, and though I have had a few lapses in my judgement, I am not a complete imbecile. You are clearly from a good family. Why are you not married?”

“It is true that I am from a good family, yes,” she admitted, “but I never married simply because I never met the right gentleman. Then my time out in society ended, and no gentleman wants a lady of my age, so I was destined for spinsterhood.”

“Plenty of ladies aged three-and-twenty find matches.”

“They do, but I would much sooner live a fulfilling life than spend my time simpering over gentlemen I do not like simply because I am afraid of running out of time.”

He could tell she was not being completely honest with him, but he did not wish to pry. She had softened towards him, and he was grateful for that. They continued on their way, and upon their return, she went to find Isabella as if it were an instinct of hers.

Despite what he had thought, she had turned out to be a good lady, a kind and forgiving one passionate about her work. He admired her for that, as he had always done his work simply because it was his to do. He had always been the same, following the rules and never straying from them, no matter how much he wanted to.

She must have been terrified, he thought, to have left the life she had known before to become a mere governess. Then again, perhaps she simply knew that it was what she wanted to do. Regardless, it had appeared to be the right decision because she was good at it. The motherly tendencies came naturally to her, and it was a shame that she would never be one, given her decision.

Suddenly, for a fleeting moment, he remembered that he had yet to take a wife and find a mother for Ella. Of all options, Miss Pembroke was not the worst.

He shook his head and, standing alone in the hallway, he scolded himself for thinking recklessly. It did not matter that Ella liked her, that she had settled remarkably well, or that she was one of the prettiest young ladies he had ever seen. He needed to find someone eligible to be his duchess, and that was what he would do. The fact that he enjoyed Miss Pembroke’s company was nothing more than a displeasing truth.

She was pleasant to be around, but he could not afford to grow any sort of attachment to her. He was a duke, and she was a governess. He had his role to play, and she had hers, and there was nothing he could do to change that, even if he wanted to.

Which, he told himself in his study that night, he most certainly did not.