Page 6

Regina sat at the desk in the nursery and frowned down at the lines she had just written.

It just wasn’t quite right. The Earl of Wendover was a vile, wicked man, but how to get that across without the melodrama of a theatrical villain twirling his moustache.

The success of His Grace and Disfavour had taken her quite by surprise.

She had done it for her own sake more than for any financial reward, a way of getting back at the two men who had stolen her life from her.

Stolen her life , she thought with a snort. Now who was being melodramatic? She was quite content, she assured herself, but the words rang hollow and only made her feel increasingly uneasy.

A knock at the door made her look up and Genevieve got to her feet as the earl walked into the nursery.

Surreptitiously, she gathered her papers and turned them over in case he noticed them.

Much to her discomfort, she had discovered Ashburton had been reading her story and seemed quite engrossed by it, a situation which she had belatedly realised was terribly dangerous.

She had tried to gain the publisher’s agreement to cancel their arrangement, but she had signed a contract, and the story was such a success, they had refused.

All Regina could do now was to get their consent to change the story enough that it did not raise the earl’s suspicions.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said politely. “Miss Ottilie is with your father,” she added, assuming he had come looking for her, but surely he knew that?

“Oh, is she? Never mind,” he said with his customary cool smile.

He was a man of reserve, that much she knew, and only ever relaxed in the presence of his daughter or his close family.

That she had seen the mask slip was a privilege few were granted.

She watched, puzzled, as he walked to the window and looked out, wondering why he lingered if he had come in search of Tilly.

“A fine day,” he observed, looking out at the sunshine.

The weather had been stormy of late but yesterday had been glorious, warm and sunny and today looked set to be just as lovely.

“It is,” she replied, wondering what he was about.

“Yet you are shut in this stuffy nursery, working away,” he observed, though the nursery was bright and airy and far from stuffy, but he looked at her so intently, she felt all on edge.

“Surely whatever it is you are doing can wait a little. You ought to enjoy some fresh air whilst Tilly is occupied.”

Regina opened and closed her mouth, uncertain how to respond to this.

“It’s not a trick,” he replied, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Come, take a turn about the garden with me. I wish to talk to you.”

“To me?” she repeated, which she knew instantly was a daft thing to say but she was so surprised she couldn’t help it.

The earl made a show of looking around the room before quirking one imperious eyebrow. “Yes, Mrs Harris. You.”

The way he said the word made the oddest sensation flutter in her chest, as though there was some significance to it. Nonsensical creature , she told herself impatiently. He just wished to speak about his daughter, that was all.

“Very good, my lord,” she said politely, bowing her head and walking to the door.

He followed in her wake, and the knowledge made the fine hairs on the back of Regina’s neck prickle.

She felt as if his eyes were upon her as she moved, which she knew was ridiculous, but she was suddenly conscious of every sway of her hips, of the way her skirts swished as she made her way down the stairs.

By the time they reached the garden, she was thoroughly out of sorts, despite telling herself she was being a ninny.

To compound her discomfort, the earl offered her his arm, just as though she was his equal, and they were at a garden party.

She balked at the offer, walking past him and into the garden without a word. Regina heard his soft laugh and wondered what he was playing at.

“You are determined to keep me in my place, I see,” he said, and she did not look back, not wishing to see the way his eyes crinkled when he was amused.

It was far too appealing an expression and made him seem almost human, rather than a being far beyond her reach.

He’s not beyond my reach , she reminded herself, for she was the granddaughter of a duke herself, and was so startled by the thought she blushed.

Good heavens. As if she would ever consider making a match with such a man.

She would rather die than tie herself to someone who was incapable of fidelity.

“I beg your pardon. I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

Regina looked at the earl then, realising he believed her blush was because he had overstepped the mark. She shook her head.

“It is of no matter, my lord. Only the servants would talk if they saw. It would not do for them to see us looking too comfortable together. I am already a misfit, neither fish nor fowl.” Regina bit her lip, furious with herself.

What the devil was she thinking, saying such a thing out loud?

Not that it wasn’t true, but that she had told him… !

He nodded, though, understanding at once. “Of course. I have often thought it must be difficult for you, not belonging entirely to either world. You are neither a servant nor a member of the family. Yet I hope you realise you are more than a mere employee. Tilly adores you,” he added.

Regina looked at him in surprise. Though she knew it was no more than the truth, to hear him say it was a revelation, and that she was more than a ‘mere employee.’ That was a great compliment from a man who rarely spoke effusively.

“Thank you,” she said, too pleased to do otherwise, but a little bewildered by where this was going. “You wished to speak to me?” she reminded him, hoping he would get to the point.

He nodded, but did not do so, the two of them walking down a path that took them under a rose arbour. It was a ridiculously romantic setting, blush pink roses in full bloom, their heady scent surrounding them as stray petals fell to the ground.

“Are you happy here, Mrs Harris?” he asked suddenly, his demeanour suddenly serious. “As I said, I have often remarked your situation is a difficult one, but it never occurred to me that—that you might be lonely.”

Regina gaped at him, too astonished by this to say a word.

It had been shocking enough to know that the earl had even considered her position in the household, let alone troubled himself to understand how precarious it was, balancing her position with the family alongside her position with the servants.

The housekeeper would deign to take tea and chat with her now and then, considering herself a step above the others, but even she seemed a little uneasy in her presence.

No matter her disguise, her bearing and accent proclaimed Regina’s status as a lady, and yet she must work to earn her crust.

“Lonely?” she repeated, as if she could not understand the word, and in some ways she did not, for spoken in the earl’s cultured tones and directed at her, she hardly knew what to say.

“It is still not a trick,” he said, sounding just a little impatient now, or was that frustration?

“I am not about to throw you out if you admit to dissatisfaction with your position here. I would not have asked if I did not wish for an honest answer. I have never known you to be anything less than forthright, after all,” he added, a wry tone to his voice that made her smile.

Regina tried to hide the expression, but her lips must have twitched, for he snorted. “Oh, yes. I can still feel the sting of many a set down, Mrs Harris. I wonder that Tilly adores you so when you can instil such terror into well aimed rebuke.”

“You seem to have survive unscathed,” she observed, before she could think better of speaking so rudely to him. She opened her mouth to apologise, but he answered before she could do so.

“That’s what you think,” he retorted, his gaze holding hers. “However, I am adept at hiding my wounds.”

Regina stared at him, a strange sense of exhilaration thrumming beneath her skin.

He spoke with the utmost seriousness, though she knew he was funning, and yet…

and yet there was something that felt like honesty there too.

Oh, how confusing this was, and yet she did not wish to end the encounter, too curious to know where it would lead, what else the earl might say to her while in this strange mood.

“I did not know my words were capable of piercing your armour,” she said, discovering her words were muddled too, at once teasing and sincere.

“My self-consequence, you mean,” he corrected gravely. “And, indeed. From the first day we met, I have been in no doubt of the contempt in which you hold me.”

Now Regina blushed, appalled by his words, which were entirely true.

Whilst she had mellowed towards him somewhat over the years, upon seeing the sincerity of his devotion to his daughter and his family, and the respectful way he treated everyone in his household, she had never hidden her scorn of him and what she had once thought of as his dissolute lifestyle.

No, he was not a libertine, but neither was he settled with a wife and a family as he surely ought to be by now, for he was no longer a young buck but a man grown.

“Oh, no,” he said, watching her open her mouth and holding up a hand.

“Do not trouble yourself to deny it. We both know it is true, though I hope perhaps I have risen just a little in your estimation during the time we have known each other. No, no,” he added hurriedly, though laughter danced in his eyes.

“Do not pretend that it is more than a very little, for I shall not believe you.”