Page 19

“Not now, no. Now you merely look indifferent,” he said, reaching his hands up towards her.

His eyes held that maddening glint of challenge again, daring her to refuse his help.

Provoked, Regina immediately put her hands on his shoulders and jumped down.

Though she took him by surprise, he caught her deftly, but her sudden weight unbalanced him, and he instinctively drew her closer to steady them both.

For a heady, horrifying, and delicious moment, her body was pressed flush against his, her soft curves crushed against his far harder form, and then good sense prevailed, and Regina pushed out of his embrace.

He released her at once, but not before she had seen the look in his eyes.

It reminded her of the big tom cat that held dominion over the gardens at Goshen Court.

She was certain she had seen that exact same hungry look in the creature’s eyes as it waited patiently outside a mouse hole for its quarry to appear.

Well, she was no one’s prey and never would be.

“Thank you,” she said, whilst glaring at him with such indignation she may as well have said go to hell , for he could not possibly be foolish enough not to hear her real meaning.

“You are very welcome, Mrs Harris,” he replied, polite as ever in the face of her rudeness.

Thoroughly unsettled, Regina wished only to flee.

“Thank you also for an enjoyable outing. It was a pleasant treat,” she added, unable to sound so scathing now, as she had enjoyed the day more than she could bear to admit.

However, she could still leave him with a terse comment that reminded them both of their places.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I must get out of this borrowed gown so it can be cleaned. I would not wish for Lady Catherine to be appalled and chastise you when she discovers you allowed it to be worn by one of your servants.”

With that, she turned on her heel and strode off before he could remark that his sister would not give a tinker’s cuss if she claimed it as her own.

“Where is Mrs Harris?” Pip asked his daughter when she came down to dinner that evening.

Whilst most of his ilk would insist children eat in the nursery, Pip’s parents had never subscribed to this view, and neither did he. He enjoyed his daughter’s company and, he realised belatedly, also the company of her prickly governess.

“She has a headache,” Tilly said with a sigh. “So she won’t come down. She asked Mrs Morgan for a tray. I think she’s going to eat in the nursery.”

Pip frowned, certain the frustrating creature did not have a headache and only wished to avoid him. Irritated that he was to be denied the pleasure of sparring with her, he set his annoyance aside for the moment and concentrated on enjoying the excellent meal and his daughter’s irreverent chatter.

After the meal was done, he kissed Tilly goodnight, and waited for what he believed to be a suitable interval for Mrs Harris to read Tilly a bedtime story, as it was her turn to do so tonight.

Then he made a quick trip to the kitchen, startling Mrs Morgan into a fluster, before heading upstairs in pursuit of his missing governess.

Giving a peremptory knock on the door to the nursery, which Mrs Harris used as her office as well as Tilly’s schoolroom, he opened the door and walked in. He discovered the lady sitting behind the desk writing, and she jumped guiltily as she saw him, confirming his suspicions.

“I was worried about you,” he told her, before she could speak. “I have never known you plead a headache before and felt anxious that you were in paroxysms of agony, so I asked Mrs Morgan to make you some willow bark tea.”

He held the cup out to her, aware of the bitter and rather astringent flavour that no one in their right mind would drink unless they really needed to.

“You went to the kitchens and asked Mrs Morgan for willow bark tea?” she repeated doubtfully.

“I did,” he agreed.

“Well, I am sorry to have wasted your time,” she replied, looking anything but sorry. “For dinner has quite restored me and I feel fine.”

“Ah, I am relieved to hear it,” Pip replied, putting the cup and saucer down.

He was tempted to sit on the corner of her desk, but then remembered what he believed he had discovered earlier, that she had disguised her looks for fear of being importuned by a villainous employer.

He did not want to be that man, the one that chased innocent maids around the dining room table.

As it was, he felt a twinge of guilt for that moment in the stable yard when her lush form had been pressed so enticingly against him, though more because he did not regret it than that it had happened at all.

Yet something about Mrs Harris provoked him beyond bearing. It really was intolerable.

Not wishing to loom over her, he moved away and looked out of the window, seeing nothing but his own reflection against the darkness beyond.

Frustrated by his own ridiculous behaviour and wondering what on earth he was playing at by coming to the nursery and seeking her out, he pulled the curtains closed with a snap.

“My, such domesticity, I never realised you were so talented.”

Pip swung around, startled but recognising the smug words for the taunt they were.

“I cannot think why,” he replied, deadpan, his heart lifting as he realised she was ready to spar with him once more. “For I excel at all things.”

“Yes, but when most noblemen cannot even dress themselves, it is shocking to see a man of your lofty stature do something so very mundane as draw the curtains in the nursery with his own fair hands. Bravo, my lord.”

Pip stared at Mrs Harris and wondered if she had alarmed herself with her own mockery, for she looked at once defiant and shocked. For a moment he did not know what to say in response, and then he felt the corners of his lips curve upwards, and he gave a bark of laughter.

“Wretch!” he said, genuinely amused. “I felt certain you were not the slightest bit under the weather and were only avoiding me, and now I am certain of it.”

She immediately paled, the colour draining from her face, and Pip held out a hand.

“No, I beg you, don’t look so appalled. I do not care if that’s true. Well, I do care,” he amended wryly. “But only because it stings my vanity that you did not wish to eat with me.”

“It’s… It’s not that I did not wish to,” she began, but Pip held up a hand to stop her.

“Wait. Before you speak another word, there is something I wish to say, if you will indulge me for a moment.”

She looked increasingly alarmed by this prospect, so he ploughed on, getting the words out quickly, if not elegantly.

“I realise now that when you came to work for me, you did so fearing that I was not a gentleman. With hindsight, I believe you were afraid of me and the situation your need to work put you in. I wish to say that I am sorry for that. Not only because that is a fact of life which I can do nothing about, but that you spent any time under my roof fearing for your safety. I hope you appreciate now that I am not such a villain, and would like you know I hold you in the highest esteem and would never wish to offend you. Certainly, I would never wish to do you harm. You are a wonderful influence on Tilly and, I think, on myself too. I value your opinion, Mrs Harris, and whilst I would hope not to suffer too many more of your set downs, I do not wish for you to feel you must guard your tongue around me. I promise you, it is unnecessary.”

Pip took a breath, rather shocked by the words which had tumbled out of him with very little thought.

He felt slightly embarrassed to have spoken so, though the sentiments were genuine.

His discomfort grew as he discovered Mrs Harris staring at him with astonishment.

She simply gazed at him in silence, and for such a long time that he wondered what on earth he’d done. Did she think it was a trick?

“Thank you.”

Her words were simple but heartfelt and Pip relaxed as he realised she meant them.

“I am only sorry it has taken me so long to understand,” he said, smiling at her ruefully. “But you know what titled gentlemen are, too foolish to know how to pull on their own trousers if not for the help of a valet, let alone close the curtains.”

“Oh, dear,” she said, pressing her hands to her cheeks to cover the sudden flush of colour. “I ought not to have said that. I beg your pardon.”

“No,” Pip said crossly. “That is exactly what I mean. I do not wish you to beg my pardon. You have a lively mind and a quick wit and, if you want the truth, as much as I love living at Goshen Court, I sometimes feel starved of intelligent conversation.”

“You do?” she replied, one eyebrow quirked sceptically.

Pip snorted. “Well, I admit, in the past, if I needed a witty companion, I would visit my mistress. However, someone of impeccable morals has pointed out that I am setting a poor example of what a gentleman is to my only daughter, as well as stirring unwelcome gossip in a small community, so I have ceased doing so.” At least while I am in the country, he added silently, for he was not a monk and could not be expected to live like one all year round.

“But if you wish me to continue living as a pattern card for the well-behaved modern man, you are going to have to help.”

“I am?” she said, looking startled by the prospect.

“Well, I’m not proposing you become my mistress, if that’s what has you looking so appalled,” he said sharply, as much for his own benefit as for hers, for the prospect was at once too tantalising and too horrifying to consider.

“I only mean that I would appreciate it if you would show yourself at mealtimes and indulge me with some sensible conversation. Tilly is a delight, and her conversation is remarkable for her years, but she is still only eight years old.”

He saw Mrs Harris bite her lip and realised she was fighting back the desire to say something.