Compromising Miss Milton. Michelle Styles

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Compromising Miss Milton - Michelle Styles Mills & Boon Historical

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be that mercenary.’

      ‘Susan told Mama the very same thing this morning.’ Nella swayed on her toes. A broad smile crossed her face as she lowered her voice. ‘I listen at doors.’

      ‘Then your sister is to get her London Season after all.’

      ‘Susan is quite convinced, though, that Lord Edward can be brought up to snuff and has begged Mama to keep the house for another month. It will save the expense of a London Season next year and the water will soothe dearest Mama’s nerves.’

      Nella’s voice replicated the exact intonation of Miss Blandish’s overly refined tone. With difficulty Daisy forced the laugh back down her throat.

      ‘You should not listen in on private conversations. It is neither clever nor useful.’ Daisy practised her best governess stare. ‘And you should certainly never repeat them to anyone.’

      ‘How can I learn anything interesting otherwise? Nobody tells me anything.’

      ‘It is far from ladylike. Your mama wants you to become a lady. You will want to make a good match, just as your sister does.’

      ‘Who wants to get married? Marriage is all practicality and good breeding. I want to be a lady explorer.’ Nella waved her hand with airy disdain. ‘I am going to discover lost continents and find buried treasure. And I have not been anywhere yet—even Susan has been to France.’

      ‘Even lady explorers are ladies first. And explorers pay attention to their geography lessons.’ Daisy winced slightly at her prim words, so reminiscent of her own governess’s—glittering dreams were well and good, but they often vanished in the cold light of reality. Once she had dreamed of exploring the world. Now she settled for independence.

      Nella tilted her head to one side as her eyes shone with mischief. ‘Do you think Susan would be interested in seeing my naked gentleman?’

      ‘Prunella! Control your mouth and your thoughts! A lady acts with propriety and honesty at all times. The man in question does not belong to you. And you have no idea of his antecedents and so cannot make a judgement about his status.’

      Nella screwed up her nose. ‘But do you think Susan would be interested in my discovery?’

      ‘I doubt it.’ Daisy struggled to keep her voice withering. She could well imagine Susan Blandish’s face squeezed up as though she had tasted a particularly sour plum if Nella mentioned the word naked. ‘Knowing things and informing other people of them are two different things. Discretion and tact should be your bywords, even when you are a lady explorer.’

      ‘I am glad I have you, Miss Milton.’ Nella reached out a grubby hand and squeezed Daisy’s pristine glove. ‘You never worry about such things as fashion and how to catch a viscount. You understand about exploring and never wanting to get married.’ Nella batted her lashes. ‘I wouldn’t have interrupted you for any other reason. I know how much you enjoy your letters from your sister. It is just that I feel one must try to help and do one’s Christian duty. Mama gave me a lecture on the very subject yesterday after I objected to meeting Mrs Gough, the vicar’s wife, who smells distinctly of lemon barley water.’

      Daisy permitted a tiny smile to cross her face as she recognised Nella’s tone. Perhaps after all she would reach some sort of rapprochement with her pupil. The whole episode would provide fodder for several letters to her friend Louisa Sibson. ‘Where is this sight that you wish me to see?’

      * * *

      Daisy climbed the short ridge and looked down on the winding river. The sound of Crammel Linn waterfall crashed in her ears. In the sky a hawk circled. All was at peace. Nothing could possibly be wrong here.

      She shaded her eyes and then she saw him, the body, lying in a pool of water just before the waterfall. His body was half in and half out of the water, caught on a log.

      Once when she had been about ten, she had travelled to Italy with her mother and sister to improve her Italian. In Sorrento, she had spied a statue like this man. Not young or a hardened warrior, but an athlete, poised to throw a javelin. The perfection of masculinity personified, her governess had declared, with a clasp of her gloved hands before sweeping Daisy onwards towards more suitable views. She had not quite understood the meaning of the remark until now.

      ‘You see. I spoke the very honest truth,’ Nella called out in a sing-song voice. ‘A naked man by the river.’

      ‘Except he is far from naked. He wears a shirt and trousers.’

      Nella put her hands on her hips. ‘Mama always says that a man might as well be naked if he is not wearing a stock or a coat, and this one isn’t. He does not have boots either. Or a waistcoat.’

      ‘He is still wearing clothing, Prunella.’ Daisy rolled her eyes heavenwards and struggled to keep her face stern.

      ‘I preferred it when he was naked.’ Nella rocked back on her heels. ‘It made it seem all the more exciting. It is very easy to imagine that he had no clothes on and I could see everything. See how his shirt moulds to his back. He has a very pleasant back.’

      Daisy swallowed hard, remembering the statues in Italy with their unclad shoulders and tapering waists.

      ‘The man is clearly in need of assistance. Excitement does not come into it,’ Daisy said firmly. A governess was never ruffled. Or surprised even when confronted with such a sight. A governess was prepared for everything.

      She put her hand to the side of her face and tried to think straight.

      Help—she needed help and fast. Strong backs and arms to carry the man from the river.

      She picked up her skirts and prepared to run, but halted before she had gone two steps. Was it her imagination or was the log rocking against the stones, preparing to carry its cargo down the waterfall?

      Her mouth went dry. By the time she returned with help, the man would have been washed downstream, and any hope of survival gone. He needed to be lifted clear of the river immediately.

      ‘Do you think he is dead? He has not moved.’ A thoughtful expression came into Nella’s eyes. ‘I have never seen a dead person before, not even when Grandpapa died and they laid him out in the best parlour. I was considered too young.’

      ‘I have no idea.’ Daisy watched the man for another breath. The faint breeze ruffled his hair, but she could not discern the rhythmic lifting of his chest. On one of his hands the dull gleam of metal showed. What had happened to him? A swimming accident? Had he misjudged the swift current? Surely no robber or thief would have left a ring. ‘It is impossible to say from here. But there does not appear to be any blood. A closer look is needed. Remember, Nella, hard facts and not guesswork. Ladies do not make assumptions.’

      Daisy shifted the basket so it was tighter against her hip and the blanket secure. A narrow bramble-strewn path wound its way down to the river and if she was careful she would be able to reach the man…the corpse without too much difficulty.

      ‘Shall I come with you? Or am I needed elsewhere?’ Nella asked, pulling her bonnet towards her nose. ‘I mean, I think I would rather go back to the house. Mama may have need of me.’

      ‘What a clever idea, Nella.’ Daisy forced her voice to be brisk. Propriety demanded that Nella be kept away. ‘It would be best if you stopped at Shaw’s

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