Francesca’s heart was safe enough for the moment and nothing the girl had said concerning the dancing master had given her any cause for concern. Lord Myers would naturally feel more concern because he was very protective over Francesca and did not want her breaking her heart over a man her family would never allow her to marry.
Monsieur Dupree seemed to be a very honest open young man, who had proved a hit with John from the start, showing himself willing to join a game of rounders or cricket. He had also taken on himself the task of tidying the library shelves.
‘It is a task after my own heart,’ he told Sarah when she found him rearranging a shelf early one morning. ‘I have too little to do, you see. As charming as it is to teach the adorable mademoiselle, I wish to earn my salary—no?’
Sarah nodded, inspecting the way he was arranging the books in better order. ‘This is a task I have wanted to do. If you could put all the poetry, plays and works of fiction together, I should be grateful—and I am sure Lord Myers would be, too.’
‘If I ’ave your approval, Miss Sarah, I am the ’appiest of men.’
The look in his eyes had given Sarah some qualms. She could not be certain for it was early days yet, but she rather thought he might be flirting with her. Lord Myers had feared he might try to seduce Francesca, but Sarah suspected she might be the object of the Frenchman’s amorous intentions. She hoped not, for she would have to deter him and that made for an uncomfortable atmosphere in the house.
However, for the moment he made no advances, though he was swift to open a door, pull out a chair or compliment her. Sarah thanked him while maintaining a cool but friendly manner.
On the day of the picnic she could not help but be glad of his help, for he voluntarily took on the management of the games for the children, leaving Sarah and Francesca with little to do but present the prizes.
Lord Rupert had greeted all the guests, introducing them to Sarah and to Francesca using just Christian names. She noticed that he allowed people to think of her as Francesca’s companion rather than a normal governess, who would naturally have remained in the background.
‘I am delighted to see Francesca looking so happy,’ Lady Rowton said to Sarah when they stood watching some of the sports. ‘At Christmas when Merrivale was here she seemed a little dispirited. You have been good for her, Miss...I did not quite catch your name?’
‘Sarah Hardcastle,’ Sarah said without thinking, then realised what she’d done. ‘Please, call me Sarah. Everyone does.’
‘How delightfully informal. I shall do so in the spirit of the occasion, my dear. It is a pleasure to see the girl happy—and her brother. You have worked a little miracle.’
Sarah thanked her. Since she’d given her own name there was no point in hiding it and she decided to give the housekeeper a curtailed version of her story that evening. It was best if everyone understood she was in the house as a friend rather than an employed governess.
All of their neighbours seemed friendly people, including Squire Browning and his lady, Mr Honiton and his sister Gillian, the Monks family of three lively children and Mr Monks’s brother James, also his wife Susan. At least thirty of the family’s acquaintances had accepted invitations and Sarah had difficulty in recalling all the names, but Mr James Monks had made himself known to her.
‘I say, you’re rather pretty,’ he said as he joined her when she was applauding John and one of his nephews in the egg-and-spoon race. ‘This is quite jolly. How long have you been staying with the Merrivales?’
‘Only a few weeks,’ Sarah replied, amused to find herself being quizzed through an eyeglass. The young man was quite a fop, a tulip of fashion if she were not mistaken. ‘I am glad you are enjoying yourself, sir.’
‘One needs a spot of entertainment in the country, what? I find it dull after the town, don’t you know.’
‘Oh, I think there is so much to do in the country. Do you not like walking and riding, sir?’
‘Well, I dare say that is well enough...’ His attention was drawn to Francesca as she presented the prize for the race her brother had lost by falling over just before the line. ‘Growing up, ain’t she? I imagine the old marquess intends leaving her a bit in his will, what?’
‘I’m afraid I have no idea,’ Sarah said. Something about the man made her take him in instant dislike. ‘Francesca will have her Season, but I have no idea of her prospects, sir. I think she will marry well whether she has a fortune or not.’
‘Oh, I say. Only an idle question, you know.’
He wandered away, clearly annoyed with her for taking him up on the remark. As she watched, he approached Francesca and said something, which made the girl smile. She was frowning and did not notice Rupert approach.
‘Was he annoying you just now?’
Sarah started and glanced at him. ‘He was speculating on whether or not the marquess intended to leave Francesca a fortune.’
‘Was he indeed?’ Rupert glowered in the direction of the young fop. ‘Impudent pup! I dare say he has run through the fortune his grandfather left him and is hanging out for a rich wife. I’d heard he was rusticating because his creditors were dunning him. Watch him if he comes calling while I’m away.’
‘I would hope Francesca would have more sense than to be taken in by someone like him.’
‘I’m not so sure. She seems to be enjoying his company.’
Sarah saw that the girl had taken his arm and was going in search of a drink. The maids had just brought out trays of iced lemon barley and orange juice for the younger members of the party. For the older guests there was champagne and a cool white wine.
‘I think Francesca will be courted by many gentlemen,’ Sarah said. ‘She is lovely of face and nature. Once she comes out I think she will be very popular with the gentlemen. I have spoken to her about these things and I think she has enough sense not to let anyone seduce her.’
‘Well, that is all we can hope for.’ Rupert’s eyes came back to Sarah. ‘Are you enjoying yourself? Lady Rowton described you as Miss Hardcastle—have you told anyone else yet?’
‘I shall explain to Mrs Brancaster tonight and hope that she will forgive me.’
‘I am sure she will. I dare say she will understand if you explain you were in need of a place to hide. It may be best if she believes I have been aware of the truth all the time.’
‘Yes.’ Sarah looked at him uncertainly. ‘Have you forgiven me for lying to you?’
His brows rose and his smile was absent. ‘The jury is out, Sarah. I shall reserve judgement until I see how you conduct yourself in future.’
She caught her lower lip between her teeth, feeling unaccountably near to tears. ‘I am sorry to have lost your good opinion—if I ever had it?’
‘I am teasing you,’ he said and smiled, sending her heart rocketing. ‘Not that I condone lying, for I generally abhor it—but I believe I understand why you did what you did.’
‘Thank you.’ Her throat caught. When he smiled like that it was enough to break her heart—but she must never forget that he
