Page 32 of The Defiant Governess (Intrepid Heroines #6)

Eleven

W illiam Coachman pulled the horses to a halt in the middle of the large courtyard and a young groom immediately ran to their head while another appeared to open the door of the coach.

“Peter, you must wait here with Briarly and William while I speak with the duke,” said Saybrook before he descended. He still had not told Peter whom they were seeking to visit. There would be time enough for that when plans were certain.

A stately butler, grey with age yet erect as a soldier, opened the massive oak door.

“Yes?” he intoned with the questioning assurance of an old family retainer.

Taking in the polished carriage with its crest on the door, its well-matched team, and then the tall, handsome gentleman before him with a quick, appraising glance, his bearing seemed to relax slightly.

But the gaze he turned on the marquess was still forbidding.

Undaunted, Saybrook placed his card on the silver tray that was held out towards him. “Please convey my apologies for arriving unannounced, and ask the duke if he will see me on a most pressing matter.”

The butler bowed slightly and motioned him to come in. “If you will wait in the side parlor, milord, I will see if His Grace is at home.”

Saybrook glanced around at the quiet splendor of the room, taking in its rich appointments and elegant furniture.

The duke, he noted, was a man of taste, with a purse to indulge his appreciation for quality.

Light flooded in through soaring arched windows and glinted off a grand piano.

He walked over to the instrument and ran his hand over the polished wood.

There was a sudden catch in his breath when he saw the sheet music on the stand.

It was a Mozart sonata, the same one that Jane had been striving to learn.

“The duke will see you now.”

Saybrook turned quickly and followed the butler out of the room.

The Duke of Avanlea leaned back in his chair and looked curiously at the engraved card before him.

Saybrook. He had known the man’s father vaguely, but had never met the present marquess.

Not that he hadn’t heard rumors. There had been whispers of a scandal concerning a married Viscountess, then a widowed Baroness, as well as talk of a general dissolute life.

Yet others had said the young lord was a sober, serious man.

The duke had had little chance to judge for himself, seeing as the marquess had spent most of the past few years on the Continent.

He drummed his fingers on his desk, wondering what ‘urgent’ matter Lord Saybrook wished to discuss with him? Could Thomas have gotten under the hatches and given him vowels for a gambling debt that he couldn’t pay off with his quarterly allowance?

Grimshaw knocked softly, then opened the door to admit the visitor.

The duke was immediately struck by the natural grace of Saybrook’s bearing, despite a slight limp.

It was rare in a man that tall and powerfully built.

He was dressed plainly yet elegantly in buff breeches and dark waistcoat and jacket that bespoke Weston’s hand.

His cravat was simply tied and no fobs or chains dangled from his middle.

The effect was more striking than any of the fripperies sported by the pinks of the ton .

The duke looked up into the marquess’s face, noting the firm chiseled mouth, high cheekbones and piercing eyes of indeterminate blue-green.

The long dark hair accentuated a firm jaw, one that hinted at an equally firm will.

He found himself thinking he could well believe the young lord had a reputation with the ladies.

His eyebrows raised in question. “Lord Saybrook, I have not had the pleasure.” He started to raise, but the marquess motioned for him to remain seated.

“Please do not rise on my account, Your Grace. And once again, accept my apologies for intruding upon you without warning.”

Avanlea smiled. “I admit to having my curiosity piqued, sir, for I can’t imagine what matter of yours can concern me—except if my son has …”

“No, it is nothing like that,” replied Saybrook quickly.

He remained standing, even though Avanlea had waved for him to take a chair.

A slight cough indicated how unsure he was as to how to go on.

“Your Grace,” he finally said. “I believe you have a tenant family of long standing on your lands by the name of Langley.”

The duke nodded, even more mystified than before. “Yes. A good man. Both his father and grandfather have worked these lands.”

“And the daughter—the daughter grew up with yours, and they formed a fast friendship, despite their difference of rank.”

“Yes. Jane and Mary are best of friends.”

Saybrook paused. “Jane Langley has served the past number of months as governess to my ward.”

“What!” gasped the duke. “What did you say?”

“Jane Langley has been governess to my ward,” he repeated. “Though she has recently left my employ, I wish to express my … gratitude for all she has done for Peter.”

Avanlea made as if to speak, then caught himself. “Go on,” was all he uttered,

“Miss Langley has told me that one of the reasons she went into service was that her father meant to force her into a match she did not want.” Saybrook fixed a cool look on the duke.

“I am sure that, for the sake of your daughter and her feelings, you would not wish such a thing. I would like to ask you to speak to her father. As we both know, the influence of a title can be most persuasive.”

The duke stared at him mutely.

“I would also like your assistance in contriving to make a settlement on Jane so that she does not have to go into service again,” went on Saybrook. “She is too spirited a girl to have to endure that.”

“On that, you are quite right,” whispered the duke.

He eyed Saybrook sharply. It was a stare that normally intimidated the person under scrutiny, but the marquess looked back at him with perfect composure.

“Sir,” he barked suddenly. “Why such interest in a governess? Have you bedded the girl and now wish to buy the family’s silence? ”

Saybrook went pale, but replied calmly. “A gentleman does not discuss a lady’s reputation with another man.”

Avanlea’s eyes flashed angrily, and to Saybrook there was an odd familiarity.

“What the Devil,” he began, then trailed off.

“I cannot argue with you on that account, sir,” he continued ruefully.

“But you must understand that I have … fatherly feelings for Jane. I am most concerned for her well-being.”

“I understand, Your Grace.” Saybrook looked at him unwaveringly. “In light of that, let me only say that a father would have no cause for concern.”

A sigh of relief escaped the duke’s lips.

“I would also ask your leave to speak with Miss Langley.” In answer to the duke’s questioning look he added, “It is only proper that I seek to inform you as to my intentions regarding someone on your estate.”

“But not my permission?” Avanlea permitted himself a slight smile. He rather liked the cool demeanor and quiet purpose of the gentleman before him. A strength of character was certainly evident—and he appeared neither dissolute nor a rake.

Saybrook merely inclined his head slightly but remained silent.

Another question occurred to the duke. “Why did Miss Langley leave your employ?”

A long silence followed. “That is something that concerns only Miss Langley and myself, Your Grace.”

The duke leaned back in his chair and gazed out the library window, deep in thought.

“I shall arrange for you to see Jane,” he finally announced.

“In the meantime, I invite you to pass the night here. You must be weary from your journey, and my son and daughter would be happy to have another face at dinner, I’m sure. ”

Saybrook bowed. “I thank Your Grace, but I do not wish to impose any further. You see, my ward is accompanying me.”

“How old is your ward?”

“Eight years old.”

“Rather odd,” remarked Avanlea.

“Peter has been taking Miss Langley’s departure hard. He is quite attached to her. Given the circumstances, it would have been rather heartless to abandon him. Until recently I have spent little time at my estate, and he feared I was leaving him, too.”

Again the duke was struck by Saybrook’s sentiments. They were hardly those of a libertine or jaded buck.

“The nursery here is quite cheerful, and one of my kitchen maids is quite used to helping out with my niece’s brood when they visit. She would be quite happy to see to your ward’s needs.”

Saybrook took a deep breath. His side was beginning to ache something fierce, and for a moment he felt a wave of dizziness,

“Are you alright, sir?” Avanlea rose in concern.

Saybrook held up his hand. “It is nothing. A recent accident has left me a trifle weak at times.”

“In that case, I won’t hear of your leaving,” broke in the duke as he rang for his butler.

Saybrook steadied himself with the back of a chair. “Thank you, sir. Perhaps it would be best if I take advantage of your generous offer.”

The duke gave the necessary instructions to Grimsley, then turned back to Saybrook. “I hope you do not mind that we keep country hours here at Avanlea. Please join us at six in the drawing room for a glass of sherry before we go in to dine.”

Saybrook bowed and followed the butler from the room.

Avanlea seated himself once more and stared at the closed door, his hands steepled before him on the massive desk.

He considered himself a shrewd judge of character and there was much that impressed—and intrigued—him about the Marquess of Saybrook.

The fellow seemed to possess a will as strong as his own!

He pursed his lips in thought. It promised to be an interesting evening.