Regency Surrender: Passion And Rebellion. Louise Allen
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Sarah Goodrum, or whatever her name was, would discover that she had made a mistake when she decided to try to fool him. By the time he’d finished with her she would wish she’d never been born.
* * *
It had rained during the night, which meant the grass would be wet if she chose to walk first thing. Sarah decided to forgo her exercise. Perhaps the afternoon would be warm and dry. In the meantime she would take an early breakfast and then spend some time in the library, preparing lessons for that day. She would try to be more conventional, and perhaps in the afternoon, if it were still damp, they could play the pianoforte. Francesca had told her she played, but needed help to achieve a higher standard. Since it was one of Sarah’s chief pleasures and something she did well, she had hopes of achieving at least this much for her pupil.
* * *
She was the first in the breakfast room and had eaten when the door opened to admit Lord Myers. He looked at her coldly, his manner markedly reserved as he perused the chafing-dishes and then brought his plate to sit opposite her.
‘Good morning, Miss Goodrum. I trust you slept well?’
‘Yes, sir. I took my breakfast early since it was still wet out.’ She pushed back her chair and stood, hesitating a moment. Why had he changed so much since the previous evening? He seemed a man of many moods.
‘There is no need to leave on my account.’ He frowned at her.
‘I had finished, sir. If you will excuse me?’
‘Yes, of course. You should prepare your lessons for the morning—a little more carefully today, if you please.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
Tears stung behind her eyes, but she gave no sign as she lifted her head and swept from the room like a queen.
How dare he speak to her that way? For a moment anger rolled over the hurt, but then she remembered that he was here in place of her employer and had every right to address her as he chose. He could send her away if he wished.
Sarah bit her lower lip. She had no idea why he was angry with her. The previous evening she had sensed that he was on the verge of making love to her—so why had he changed so suddenly?
Obviously, he was a law unto himself. He was an aristocrat and had no interest in the feelings of a lowly governess—any more than he would in the daughter of a Cit, even a wealthy mill owner’s daughter.
Sarah would be a fool to allow herself to care for a man like that—even if one of his sensual looks could make her feel weak at the knees and keep her sleepless in her bed.
She had made up her mind to keep her distance during a restless night and his manner this morning had made that easier. If they both kept their distance, except when in the children’s presence, everything would be fine. She would conquer this temporary weakness and her heart would remain untouched.
Sarah would spend a few months in retreat from her own life and do what she could for Francesca—John, too, if he needed her, though he seemed to have taken to his mentor and hung on Lord Myers’s every word. She would stay for as long as she could, but if life became unbearable she would leave.
The rain had lasted for almost a week, making it impossible to hold the picnic John had wanted so badly. However, he spent most of his time either fencing, studying or riding with Lord Myers and seemed well pleased with the change. Francesca had told Sarah that he was learning to shoot.
‘I hardly see him now,’ she complained as they closed the pianoforte after an hour spent most enjoyably. ‘I am so glad you are my friend, Sarah. I do not know what I should do if you were not here.’
‘I dare say John will seek your company when he is ready. You must understand that this is the first time he has received the attention of a man like Lord Myers. He must feel pleased, excited and even flattered by it. After being neglected by his tutors he is suddenly of importance.’
‘How understanding you are,’ Francesca said and got up, wandering over to the window. ‘Did you know that Uncle Rupert has decided to employ a dancing master for me? He is French and should be here any day now.’
‘Oh...’ Sarah bit her lower lip. Lord Myers had neglected to tell her, but then, she’d hardly seen him all week. At dinner he spoke to Francesca and John, but, other than asking if she were well and had what she needed, he had not directed a whole sentence at her for seven days. ‘I had thought he might teach you himself.’
‘He said he had considered it, but felt himself unable to convey the finer points. I think he finds that John takes up most of his time—and he has friends. You know he has dined out twice this week and he spent most of yesterday afternoon with them.’
‘Yes, I dare say he wishes for some company of his own age, men he can converse with,’ Sarah agreed. ‘John was out with the groom all afternoon. I hear he is doing very well with his new pony.’
‘Yes. He finds Blackie much more of a challenge than dear old Dobbie was, which was why Uncle Rupert purchased the pony for him.’
‘Yes, that was thoughtful.’
Sarah could not fault Lord Myers for the way in which he was directing the youth’s studies, giving him enough sports and activities to make the written work acceptable. She had paused outside the marquess’s study on one occasion and heard Lord Myers reading aloud in Latin. Every now and then he’d stopped to ask John what he understood and to explain the story. His blend of authority and charm had carried John along and the boy seemed completely under his spell.
Francesca was respectful of the man she addressed as Uncle Rupert, even though he wasn’t actually her uncle, but some sort of cousin.
‘Rupert thought it better if I called him uncle. He says it is a matter of keeping up a respectable household that will give no one a chance to gossip about us. I told him that as long as I had you as a chaperon no one could possibly imagine there was anything improper in our domestic arrangements.’
Sarah resisted the temptation to ask what he’d replied. Since that night when they had played chess alone he had been reserved, even cold towards her, and she had followed his lead. It was better this way than allowing herself to imagine there might be something warm and exciting between them. If she had thought so a week ago, she did not think it now. She knew that it was the only way she could remain as Francesca’s governess, but there was an ache in her heart that she could not quite banish.
Sarah stood up and joined her pupil by the window. The afternoon was pleasantly warm with just a slight breeze.
‘I have some letters I should like to go first thing in the morning. I think I shall walk down to the Royal Oak and leave them. There might be something for me.’
‘One of the footmen will take the letters in the morning and they bring back anything that has come for us.’
‘Yes, I know, but I want these to go off—besides, I should have to rely on Lord Myers to frank them for me and I would prefer to pay some sixpences to send them myself. I was wondering if you would like to walk with me?’