The Governess Was Wanton Read online

  “Perhaps something by Handel,” Mary suggested.

  A tiny smile tugged up the corners of Lady Eleanora’s mouth. “I did arrange his Harp Concerto in B-Flat Major about a year ago. I think Papa has tired of hearing it.”

  If Mary wasn’t mistaken, the young lady’s voice sounded just a little stronger and her shoulders had started to come down from around her ears.

  “Well, it’s new to me,” she said.

  Lady Eleanora brought the harp to her shoulder again and the melodious first bars filled the room.

  Mary watched while mulling over what she’d just witnessed and what Lord Asten had told her the day before. Perhaps Lady Eleanora was a little shyer than some girls, but she wasn’t the quietest Mary had taught. Something else was the matter, and she was becoming more certain by the hour that Lady Laughlin was at the root of it.

  Not five minutes after leaving, Warthing was back with another knock and a delicate clearing of the throat.

  “Yes, Warthing?” Lady Eleanora prompted him without removing her harp from her shoulder.

  “Lady Laughlin would like me to convey the message that none of Miss Woodward’s predecessors ever took exception to a rare interruption of Lady Eleanora’s lessons, and she does hope to meet Miss Woodward so that this misunderstanding does not happen again.”

  Enough. This ended now. The Earl of Asten might allow this woman to walk all over his household, but let her try to do the same to Mary.

  “Mr. Warthing, would you be so good as to lead me to Lady Laughlin?” Mary asked.

  “I should—”

  She cut Lady Eleanora off with a shake of her head. “If she wants to meet me, she will meet me.”

  “If you’ll follow me, ma’am,” Warthing said in a suitably grave voice.

  The salt-and-pepper-haired butler led Mary down the hall to the drawing room she’d sat in the day before. At the double doors, he glanced at her as though to ask whether she was ready. She touched her hair to ensure that not a strand was out of place and nodded.

  The first thing that struck Mary about Lady Laughlin was that the woman had a flair for fashion. Flanked by her daughters in smaller chairs on either side of the sofa she sat on, the baroness was regal in an emerald-and-ivory-striped dress with a square neck edged in blond lace. Her voluminous skirts billowed out around her as though she’d just descended from the heavens on a cloud. At her throat was a strand of pearls as large as marbles, and on her fingers glittered a row of rings as varied as the rainbow. She topped everything off with a false smile as wide as London Bridge.

  “You must be Miss Woodward,” said the lady with an incline of her chin.

  Mary noted that none of the women rose when she entered the room, no doubt ascribing to the school of thought that said a governess didn’t merit such courtesy.

  “Lady Laughlin,” she said without warmth. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  The woman’s laugh trilled through the air. “No doubt all of it intriguing.”

  Mary’s smile was tight. “Naturally.”

  “My daughters, Una and Cordelia,” said the lady, sweeping her hands out in an elegant arc.

  The two young ladies looked at her with deliberate ennui.

  “I do believe there’s been a little misunderstanding regarding dear Lady Eleanora,” said Lady Laughlin, clasping her hands together and leaning forward as though speaking to a child. “She always takes tea with us whenever we’re on our way to Bond Street. Sometimes she even comes with, but of course she hardly ever buys anything. She has no natural flair for fashion.”

  Mary doubted the veracity of Lady Laughlin’s dig at the girl’s dresses. Just today, Lady Eleanora was wearing a rather fetching dusky pink day dress edged in black piping. Mary had spotted that very cut on a few of London’s more fashionable ladies as they promenaded in Hyde Park.

  “I’m sorry,” Mary said, not feeling at all contrite. “If I’d been aware of your previous arrangements I would have asked Lady Eleanora to send you a missive letting you know that she will have lessons at this time every day.”

  “That has never been an impediment before,” Lady Laughlin said with a laugh.

  “All that learning won’t help anyway,” said Miss Laughlin with false sympathy.

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow,” said Mary.

  “No one cares whether or not she knows her German,” said Miss Laughlin.

  Miss Cordelia shrugged. “She never speaks to anyone, so how could it matter?”

  Mary carefully pulled her handkerchief out of her sleeve and delicately touched it to her nose, buying herself a bit of time to compose herself. Otherwise she feared she’d box the ears of everyone in the room.

  “I’m afraid I must insist that lessons be undisturbed in the future, Lady Laughlin,” she said. “Lady Eleanora would be happy to welcome you during calling hours.”

  Since I doubt I’ll be able to put a stop to this invasion of Laughlins no matter how hard I try.

  “Calling hours?” scoffed the baroness.

  Mary’s eyes narrowed. “Lady Eleanora is out, and she has friends. Surely she both receives and makes calls.”

  “Only to Miss Bigelow and Miss Masters,” said Miss Cordelia. “Hardly suitable companions for an earl’s daughter.”

  Miss Laughlin tossed her perfectly coiffed blond head with disdain. “No one’s even heard of them.”

  Lady Laughlin gestured to a chair across from her. “Miss Woodward, sit and join us. Warthing arranged for tea. The tray should be here any moment.”

  Tea? The woman had actually ordered tea in the earl’s home? It was shockingly forward. Lady Laughlin was acting as though she’d already been installed in the countess’s suite.

  “Thank you,” she said through gritted teeth. “But I must take my leave. Lady Eleanora is waiting for me to finish our lesson.”

  Lady Laughlin’s smile turned brittle. “It must be difficult to go through life with the uncertainty of holding a position. Why, you could be dismissed at any moment.”

  Mary stared the woman down with the cold gaze she used with only the most ill-behaved children. “My only ambition, ma’am, is to teach Lady Eleanora. It’s what I was engaged to do, and I’ll do everything I can to ensure that I’m able to perform my duties.”

  The tension in the room pressed up against the walls, threatening to suffocate all four of them. She felt every pump of blood through her veins and the tightness of her taut shoulders under the close-cut fabric of her bodice.

  Lady Laughlin finally gave a little hiccup of a laugh. “Miss Woodward, you’re so ferocious I do believe I shall have to watch you at every turn.”

  The unmistakable warning confirmed Mary’s earlier suspicion. If anything was making Lady Eleanora shy and retiring, it was being forced to be around this woman.

  Chapter Three

  Asten had only just stepped through the door after an early committee meeting when Warthing informed him that Lady Laughlin and her daughters were in the blue drawing room. He’d handed over his hat, gloves, and stick with a sigh and mounted the stairs, knowing he must be polite even if all he wanted was to settle down to his luncheon.

  When he walked into the drawing room, however, he stopped short. Something was very off. Miss Woodward was standing, looking down at Lady Laughlin, who sat on the sofa like it was a throne. The former had her usual pleasant smile on her face. The latter looked as though she could kill with her gaze.

  Miss Woodward had been in his home for less than twenty-four hours. That couldn’t be enough time for a tiff.

  It was long enough for Lucinda to pick a fight.

  He shook off the memory of his late wife and forced as much joviality as he could into his voice. “What a lovely surprise. I had hoped that Miss Woodward would make your acquaintance soon, Lady Laughlin. Hello, Miss Laughlin, Miss Cordelia.”

&nb
sp; The young ladies dipped into pretty curtsies and Lady Laughlin turned her sunbeam smile on him, but Miss Woodward’s was far more forced. It didn’t warm her eyes.

  “Where’s Eleanora?” he asked, glancing around.

  “A headache, my lord,” said Miss Laughlin quickly. “She just left.”

  Lady Laughlin shot him a knowing smile. “Miss Woodward must have overworked her on their first day together. Governesses can become so overambitious when they feel the need to impress.”

  “I’m happy to see that you’re taking her studies seriously, Miss Woodward,” he said.

  “Your daughter’s education is of the utmost importance to me, sir,” she said, keeping her attention on Lady Laughlin.

  “But we mustn’t forget her social education,” said the baroness. “The art of making and receiving calls is one of the fundamentals of good manners every lady must perfect.”

  Asten looked from woman to woman, feeling a bit like an unsuspecting fly caught in a spider’s web. He just didn’t know why.

  “I’ve detected no deficiencies in Lady Eleanora’s behavior,” said Miss Woodward.

  Lady Laughlin lifted her chin. “There’s also the delicate matter of ensuring that one is surrounded by the right sort of people. A lady can never be too careful in selecting her friends.”

  “I’ve always been under the impression that Eleanora’s friends are quite pleasant girls,” he said, not wanting to see Miss Masters or Miss Bigelow spoken of at a disadvantage.

  “ ‘Quite pleasant’ is all well and good, but Lady Eleanora needs to stand out if she’s to make a success of her first season,” said Lady Laughlin.

  He frowned at the edge in the woman’s voice. Why wouldn’t Eleanora have a successful season? She was beautiful, well educated, and came from an impeccable family. Even with her shyness, a bachelor would be crazy to discount her.

  But before he could inquire further, Miss Woodward said, “I can appreciate your concern, ma’am, but I really must insist that calls be made during calling hours.”

  So that was the source of the tension in the room. Lady Laughlin was something of a force of nature, an enthusiastic woman who was used to getting her way. He’d warned Miss Woodward’s predecessors that shopping trips with Lady Laughlin were to be kept well away from school hours, but a few times he’d come home from Westminster to find Eleanora’s maid making her way into the house bearing an armful of packages. Now that he thought about it, it was never Miss Bigelow or Miss Masters with her, but Lady Laughlin flanked by her two daughters.

  Asten cast an appraising eye over Lady Laughlin. Perhaps he’d been too enthusiastic about rekindling the friendship between his family and hers, but she’d been such good friends with his wife and seemed taken with the idea of bringing out Lucinda’s daughter. He’d overlooked the woman’s raw, unfettered ambition that no amount of grace could completely hide because it’d been the right thing to do for Eleanora. It was the right thing.

  Still, he was secretly glad that this new governess seemed disinclined to give in to Lady Laughlin’s whims.

  But would she give in to me?

  He crushed the dirty, exciting thought as soon as it shot through his head. This was becoming absurd. He’d hardly seen the woman more than ten minutes between this day and the last, and yet he’d spent more than a little time preoccupied with her while Lord Derby droned on about an agricultural bill that had just cleared the House of Commons.

  Yesterday evening in his box at the opera, he’d closed his eyes and fixated on the memory of the smooth, creamy skin of Miss Woodward’s neck. He remembered the intelligent flash of her eyes and the way her mouth curved up a little more on the left side than the right. He’d imagined flicking his tongue over that corner, kissing it before working his tongue between her lips and teeth.

  But all of this had to stop. Lascivious thoughts about his daughter’s governess were not acceptable.

  “Will you stay for tea, ladies?” he asked, attempting to swing his attention back to a safe subject.

  “Oh,” Lady Laughlin said, “dear Eleanora ordered some, but I’m afraid that we’re on our way to the modiste this morning. Una and Cordelia have naturally been thinking of nothing but the Marquis de Lancey’s masque in two weeks’ time.”

  “No one will know who anyone is. It’ll be so romantic,” Miss Cordelia said.

  “And I have it on good authority that no one else is going to be dressed as we are,” said Miss Laughlin with relish.

  The baroness rose, and his years of good breeding automatically sent him into a bow. “Lady Laughlin, it’s been a pleasure to see you and your daughters as always. I hope that your shopping is successful.”

  The woman extended her hand for him to kiss—an old-fashioned gesture but one she still seemed to favor. “You will remind Lady Eleanora that we have high expectations for her costume at the masque. All eyes will be on the debutantes, of course.”

  “I thought the point of a masked ball was that no one knows the identity of anyone else,” he said. “A footman can dance with a duchess and none would be the wiser.”

  “What a scandalous thought, my lord!” Lady Laughlin laughed in her pretty little way. “Of course everyone knows who is who. No one’s identity stays hidden for long in London.”

  He let out a breath as the woman glided out of the room, reminding himself he was grateful that his wife’s old friend had resurfaced in their lives. Maybe Lady Laughlin was a little too used to getting whatever she asked for, but he didn’t really see the harm in it. She had a natural talent for navigating the ton and, even though her sister had brought the Laughlin girls out all last year, knew what events a girl must attend and whom she must talk to. He did what he could to shepherd his daughter through society, but he didn’t have the deft attention to detail or the knowledge of every marriage and birth in London’s elite ten thousand that was necessary to ensure a girl’s success. He needed Lady Laughlin’s help for that.

  And yet he couldn’t deny that he was pleased to hear the front door shut and know that his house was all his own again. He was about to ask Miss Woodward if she’d had her midday meal when she set her jaw at a determined angle. “Lord Asten, I must speak with you.”

  “Speak away,” he said, repressing a sigh. Luncheon would have to wait, but at least a maid had slipped in with tea as the Laughlins left.

  “I am concerned that in the past Lady Laughlin has been allowed to visit with Lady Eleanora during her lessons,” said Miss Woodward.

  He sat down on the sofa that the baroness had just vacated and indicated that she should take the chair across from him. “I suspect you might be right about calling at unconventional times. I hadn’t realized until just now.”

  “I’m also concerned that she will continue to do so despite my request to cease.”

  “Why do you think that?” he asked with a frown. She still hadn’t taken a seat and it upset him far more than it rationally should.

  “I think you’ll find—”

  “Do you know what the prime minister does when he wishes to intimidate an MP who’s fallen out of line?”

  Her brow creased. “What?”

  “He makes them stand about as far as you are from me and watches them from behind his desk. It’s supposed to let them know their place. My own drawing room is the last place where I’d like to see such a tactic employed.”

  “But you don’t have a desk,” she pointed out.

  “I have a tea cart, and I plan to employ it. Please sit so I don’t have to drink it alone.”

  She hesitated as though not entirely sure what to think about him or his request but sat all the same.

  “You may find, Miss Woodward, that it will take some time for Lady Laughlin to become accustomed to your insistence on keeping Eleanora’s lessons undisturbed. I can already tell that you’re made of stronger stuff than her previous governe
sses.”

  He shifted subtly as her scrutiny warmed him to his core.

  “I hope you don’t expect me to mince words,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He reached for a dainty sandwich and threw up a little prayer of thanks. He was growing desperate for something to do with his hands rather than reach over the gap between them and pull the tempting Miss Woodward onto his lap.

  “It isn’t just Lady Eleanora’s lessons that worry me,” said Miss Woodward, oblivious to his slow-burning fantasy in which he’d loosed her hair and was running his fingers through it in a rough comb.

  “How do you mean?” he asked, fighting to maintain any sense of decorum.

  “When Lady Laughlin arrived, I sent her word that Lady Eleanora was occupied, and she sent Mr. Warthing back with a rebuttal.”

  That made him sit back. “This is the first I’m hearing of this. I thought Lady Laughlin said my daughter had ordered tea.”

  “She did.”

  “But if you sent Warthing back with a message, why would she have bothered getting out of her carriage?”

  “Lady Laughlin and her daughters were not waiting in their carriage when I first met the baroness. They were already inside the house.”

  Asten’s eyes snapped up. “Are you suggesting that a woman of her breeding and rank walked into my home with her children in tow, summoned my daughter, and made herself comfortable in the front room?”

  “I’m not suggesting it,” Miss Woodward said. “I’m telling you that’s exactly what transpired.”

  It was a stunning accusation and, if it was true, it would mean Lady Laughlin was taking incredible liberties with his home and his staff.

  “This must be a misunderstanding, Miss Woodward. Lady Laughlin was my wife’s friend many years ago, so she enjoys a degree of informality with this family that might be unusual elsewhere.”

  Miss Woodward didn’t look convinced. In a way, he almost liked her more for it. There was something about her that was strong and stubborn, as though she didn’t brook any argument. She was the sort of woman who gave off the air that she knew her mind even if propriety meant that she couldn’t say exactly what she thought. Asten got the impression that she didn’t care a whit about his title or his money except that it allowed him to ensure that he had enough to pay her for her work educating his daughter. In a city full of people dazzled by rank and wealth, it was refreshing.