your travel?”
She looked away, and Dominic realized that perhaps this lady was not without guile after all. For some reason, the notion amused him. “Does he know you’re coming?”
“To be frank, no, he has told me to stay here.” Those lovely eyes, earnest now, and somehow compelling, grabbed him. “But I cannot. I absolutely cannot stay. The only way for me to explain to him what I want is to speak to him face-to-face. Then he will see logic. I am quite sure of it.”
“So you will defy the will of your guardian?”
“Bah.” She waved her hand. “You speak of defiance as though he is the master of me.”
“Is he not?”
“No,” she said firmly. “And he knows that, which makes this situation altogether perplexing.”
The music had changed, and other guests crowded the floor, but Dominic found himself captivated by the determined purpose in Miss Gordon’s words. For many, many years his life had lacked direction. He had feared pursuing anything because of his affliction. Knowing he might die or be transported to an asylum at any time had put a damper on long-term goals.
“Why are you here?” he asked abruptly.
Startled, her lips pursed. “What do you mean?”
“Staying with Lady Brandewyne?”
“I suffered a bout with rheumatic fever.”
“Your uncle feared for your life and brought you home to England.”
“It was a small matter. He overreacted.”
But Dominic heard the doubt in her voice, and he had noticed the clothing that didn’t quite fit. Was it fair that she must surrender her freedom due to an illness? Or to the fears of an uncle? A plan was forming in his mind. He had simply wanted to get around to asking her what she knew about epilepsy, to get her opinion, but now he saw another, better option.
He flashed a grin. “You are looking lovely tonight. One would never guess you’d suffered from anything but an abundance of beauty and grace.”
She gave him a look, one that said clearly she saw past his flirtations and perhaps even found them tedious. The thought made him laugh.
“I presume you are cackling at your paltry attempt to charm me.” She crossed her arms, skewering him with an expression he might start calling her doctor look.
“Never. You are familiar with Louise and all her various quirks?”
“I would not call them quirks, but yes, I am aware that she is a strong-willed child.”
“Perhaps then, we can help each other?”
Dominic paused, debating his next words. Most governesses were ladies of quality who had fallen on hard times. With no immediate family to take them in and no marital prospects, they were often forced to find employment.
He knew little of Miss Gordon’s family history, but he could not imagine the woman, with her quick tongue and keen eyes, succeeding in subservient positions. Though certainly she was intelligent enough to teach. It would be a matter of her nature conflicting with the expectations of her employer.
She had a genteel upbringing and extensive educational experiences. She had kept that doctor from sticking leeches all over him...but could she keep Louise in line? Could she make it so that Barbara did not take Louise?
If Miss Gordon discovered his epilepsy, would she be the type to send him to Bedlam? There were many who would agree with the decision.
He frowned. Louise had been nothing but trouble in the few weeks they’d been home. She needed more than what he could give, but if he let Barbara send her away, she’d never forgive him. Did Henrietta have the education necessary to teach Louise the attributes of a lady?
If only his niece had not been expelled. A school in England was better than one across the ocean.
After her parents’ funeral, Dominic had sent her back to the highly esteemed boarding school she’d been attending since she was ten. That had been his first in a long series of mistakes.
For whatever reasons—he could not pretend to understand the workings of a twelve-year-old female’s mind—Louise had decided to cease all good behavior. Within three months, she’d been expelled. Any misguided notion of an easy guardianship disappeared.
Then Barbara began nagging him and threatening his newfound hermit existence.
Even though he had retreated to the country, he did love Louise. He’d been selfish, holing away by himself. He had heartily enjoyed the conversations, music and dance in the past. Epilepsy had taken that from him.
Tonight, he’d been overly conscious of himself, worried that he might have an attack until he’d been diverted by Miss Gordon’s quiet figure lurking against walls. Avoiding dances. She piqued his interest. Why would a woman given the chance to partake in the upper echelons of English society shun it?
Now he had his answer.
And he might be able to offer a reciprocal type of help.
Which brought him back to this very moment, where Miss Gordon stood waiting patiently for his next words. He noticed a few inquisitive sets of eyes upon them. He’d have to leave her soon or run the risk of gossip.
“Louise has spoken highly of you. She is at a determining point in life, and is in need of a firm hand. Someone who understands her pain.”
They began waltzing on the outer sides of the ballroom. “She is in need of guidance. She respects you and perhaps what she needs is a more unconventional governess. One who does not bow to a child’s whims nor fears losing her position by speaking her mind. One with a breadth of knowledge that will intrigue a girl with Louise’s curiosity.”
“Optimistic words.”
He gave her a small bow. “Consider my offer. I will pay you a wage that will allow you to join your uncle.”
“Why are you offering this? I—”
“I admire your vision,” he interrupted. “It is a rare and precious thing in life to know what you want. Even more, to pursue it. Perhaps I have not lived my own life as fully as I ought to, and in a way I can’t explain, I want to help you.”
She nodded, accepting his words even as he struggled to understand them himself. “I will consider it, my lord, and send you word.”
* * *
Henrietta awoke in a foul mood.
She did not know how to answer Lord St. Raven. His offer last night had taken her by surprise, though perhaps it should not have. He had been needing a governess for some time. She supposed it made a modicum of sense that he’d asked her. She had been tempted to give him a resounding no, but a few reasons stopped her.
One,
