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“But Mrs Smith, Papa said you might come with us,” Miss Elizabeth said, her pretty little face flushed with the idea of going for a picnic with her two favourite people.

Georgette shook her head, her expression stern.

Even after three years in the viscount’s employ, she could not afford to let down her guard.

Perhaps he was not the villain she had once thought him to be, but neither was he the model of a well-behaved man.

He was too easy in his ways, too free with his affections, to ever be a man that she could esteem, and yet he charmed her, and that was dangerous.

“No, Miss Lizzie,” she told the girl, at once regretting the disappointment that filled her blue eyes. Lizzie was such a dear little creature, she hated the need to hurt her, but in this, she must not be swayed. “I am sorry, my dear. But it would not be proper.”

“I don’t care if it’s proper or not!” the girl cried, startling Georgette with the force of her outburst, which was as passionate as it was rare.

“I want you to come. Why won’t you come?

” With a strangled sob, Lizzie fled the room, leaving Georgette to stare after her with a heart brimful of guilt and regret.

―Excerpt of His Grace and Disfavour, by an anonymous author.

2 nd December 1850, Goshen Court, Monmouthshire.

Pip ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time and relieved to discover from the clock in the hallway that it was only a little after eight a.m..

They ought to still be in the breakfast parlour.

Dashing into the room, he came to a sudden halt as he startled Francis, one of the upper footmen, so thoroughly he dropped the toast rack, scattering pieces of bread in all directions.

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” the fellow said, appalled as he stooped to gather them up again. “I shall fetch some more at once.”

“Never mind that, Francis,” Pip said impatiently. “Entirely my fault. But, tell me, where are my daughter and Mrs Harris?”

The man straightened, looking wary. “Why, they went out. Mrs Harris said you told her to take the carriage, so she might take Miss Ottilie to the shops. Is that right, my lord?” he asked, looking as if he doubted the information.

Coward, Pip thought crossly, knowing just why the wretched woman had done it.

“Oh, yes. Yes, I did indeed tell her she might. I’m afraid it slipped my mind,” he replied, though he was frustrated beyond bearing at the news.

Still, he wasn’t about to let the staff think his troublesome governess had behaved in a way he had not sanctioned.

Her life here was a tricky enough balance as it was.

How would it be when they married, he wondered, not allowing himself to doubt the outcome for a moment.

They would marry, if it was the last thing he did.

Knowing how stubborn Mrs Harris could be, it very well might be.

The idea made him smile despite his aggravation. Just wait until she got home.

Still, when they married, the staff had better accept her and treat her with the respect they might a duchess, or he would have something to say about it. Anyone who felt working for a governess was beneath them would be at liberty to go elsewhere.

It would cause the most dreadful scandal, he thought ruefully, wondering if he had always been destined to be the subject of lurid gossip, no matter his best efforts.

Not that he cared, so long as Harry and Tilly were not hurt by it.

They would protect each other, he knew. Certainly Harry would never let Tilly come to harm.

She loved his daughter fiercely and wasn’t that simply wonderful?

All this time he had dithered and made excuses not to find a wife in large part because he did not wish things to change at Goshen Park, did not wish Tilly to find her world upended by a stranger who might resent her no matter how sweet a face she put on it.

Tilly was far too clever to be swayed by anything but genuine affection; she would know at once if the sentiments expressed were not sincere.

Whilst he did not believe he was incapable of making a choice that would work for them both, he wondered now if Mrs Harris had been the reason he had refused to make the choice at all.

Had some part of his mind always been snagged upon her presence in their lives, had he known subconsciously, that she was more important to them both than he gave her credit for?

Either way, now he need not worry. The only things that would change, Tilly would accept with glee, as would he, Pip realised, unable to keep the stupid smile from his face.

Damn the blasted woman! Why hadn’t she backbone enough to face him?

She was never normally shy of holding him to account for his behaviour. What a day to back down and run away!

Frustrated beyond measure, he instructed Francis he would take breakfast in his study.

He wanted to return to the place where his life had changed for the better, to revel in the memory of what had happened there just hours ago.

As he walked into the room, some part of him expected it to have changed somehow.

Surely it ought to show signs of the momentous events that had shaken his life up.

Nonsense, of course. They had been meticulous in ensuring there was no evidence to give either of them away.

Being nonsensical and foolish seemed to suit his mood, though, and he found himself sitting in the chair where his own bold Mrs Harris had taken charge of the situation and forced him to kiss her.

He grinned at the memory and chuckled out loud as he remembered how she had snorted and gurgled with laughter herself when she had recalled the look of shock on his face.

With a sigh of regret, he looked around, and realised there was one thing that had been forgotten.

Pip reached down and picked up the little wire spectacles that had fallen to the floor between the side table and the chair.

He tutted with disapproval at the smears on the lenses.

It was a wonder she wasn’t constantly bumping into things.

Pip took out his handkerchief and carefully cleaned the delicate lenses, then held them up to the light to inspect them.

Frowning, he turned them this way and that, looking through them with confusion. They were clear glass.

For a moment, he puzzled over why she would wear clear glass spectacles.

But no… it was obviously all part of the disguise she had adopted for her own safety.

Pretending to be Mrs Harris and applying the dreadful muck she used to put in her hair until quite recently.

She had been hiding her youth, her beauty, in order to keep herself safe.

Though it was not a new realisation, it made him angry and sorrowful all over again, that she had lived in fear—of him, and of the world—he swore she would never do so again.

A knock at the door preceded the arrival of Kerridge, and a footman carrying his breakfast tray. Pip carefully slid the spectacles into his coat pocket and went to sit at his desk.

“Good morning, my lord,” Kerridge said cheerfully. “I have something for you I reckon will put a smile on your face, it will.”

Pip looked up with interest, grateful that he might have something to distract him until Harry and his daughter returned home… presuming the little wretch didn’t decide never to face him again.

“I am always grateful to have something to smile about, Kerridge, so don’t keep me in suspense.

” With a remarkably theatrical flourish, the butler revealed a small stack of pamphlets like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat.

“There now,” he said, grinning broadly. “Mind, I had the devil’s own job keeping the kitchen staff from reading them before you,” he added with a chuckle.

“Finally!” Pip said, delighted to see not only the missing copies but several more than he had expected. He must have fallen further behind with the story than he’d realised. “Excellent! Thank you, Kerridge. I shall pass them on as soon as I have finished, my word upon it.”

Relieved to have something to occupy his agitated mind, Pip sat down to enjoy his breakfast, and the unfolding story.

Regina and Tilly spent an enjoyable couple of hours in Monmouth, or at least, Tilly enjoyed their little shopping expedition enormously, whilst Regina did her best to appear just as enchanted.

Though, it was hard not to find her spirits lifting a little in Tilly’s company.

The child was so engaging and funny, and her effort to find the things she needed to make her papa the perfect gift were most endearing.

Finally, they had everything they needed, and Regina suggested they return to the inn they had eaten at the last time they were in town. Tilly agreed to this at once.

“Do you think we’ll have Welsh Cakes again,” she asked hopefully.

Regina smiled. “You never know.”

Though he’d disapproved of their outing because the earl had not ordered him directly, the coachman had obligingly arranged a private parlour for them. They ate an agreeable luncheon, and Tilly was in alt when the famous Welsh Cakes appeared once more.

“Come, I think you have eaten enough for both of us,” Regina said fondly as Tilly subsided in her chair with a sigh after clearing both her plate and sharing Regina’s.

“I know, but they were so delicious. I regret nothing,” she said with an unrepentant grin.

“Dreadful girl,” Regina said with a chuckle. “We had best be getting back now, I suppose.”

She had to admit she was the one dragging her feet, not Tilly, who was eager to tease her father with hints about his Christmas present.