The Governess (Ladies of Miss Bell's Finishing School Book 1) Read online

  Adelaide followed the housekeeper up a beautiful wooden staircase. Passing through a plushly carpeted hallway lined with paintings of hunting scenes, they came to a spare room opulently decorated in deep greens and puce. It all felt very masculine—as was its master. The painting at Harlton Park had captured him well, except for the way he stole the air from a room with his presence, She was grateful he was allowing her to wash. In truth, she had no idea where to find her friends in this big city. It was a short reprieve from her impending poverty.

  Where was Mrs. Fielding? No doubt, in the manner of ladies, she was out making calls or shopping—or avoiding her maddening husband. Adelaide had not expected him to be so handsome. After his treatment of her, she had expected an ogre with a double chin and sweating pate. Instead, she had been met with an imposing man dressed in the height of fashion, with nary a stitch out of place and boots so shiny she could see her reflection in them. His hair was honey-coloured and his eyes were a light hazel. Almost perpetually hooded, they appeared bored, and yet, she was certain they missed nothing.

  “I’ll have a bath sent up for you, miss,” the housekeeper said. Adelaide barely registered the words, she was so distracted by her thoughts of the master.

  “May I perhaps borrow an old gown from Mrs. Fielding?” Adelaide asked, feeling somewhat shy.

  The housekeeper narrowed her gaze. “There is no Mrs. Fielding. You have nothing else?”

  “I will have to make shift, in that case. We had no time to gather our belongings. Our only thought was to escape the fire.”

  “I will see what I can do with your dress. We have no young maids, since this is a bachelor establishment, and I am afraid you would be lost in one of my dresses.”

  “Thank you. Then I may be on my way.” Somehow she needed to justify her honourableness to this woman, who nodded approvingly at her statement.

  Several servants appeared with a tub and filled it with warm water. She noticed their sideways glances as they tried not to gawk at her state. There would be gossip aplenty below stairs this day.

  When they had finished the task and left, Adelaide stepped behind a screen and handed her filthy gown to the housekeeper, who clucked her tongue at it.

  Why had the scoundrel not mentioned he was a bachelor, nor yet any of the servants at Harlton Park? She bit her lower lip.

  “Because he thinks of you as a servant and nothing more,” she muttered to herself.

  In fairness, despite her genteel birth, it was now all she was fit for. When she thought of the one gown, the very little money she had to her name, and losing this position…but she was not about to beg to stay here with two hell-born imps and a self-important dandy.

  Sinking deep into the steaming, lavender-scented water in the large tub, she decided she could almost forgive him for some of his dandyism. This was as close to heaven on earth as she might ever get again.

  For the first time, she was forced to consider her options. While the thought of losing her position so quickly and having nowhere else to go had crossed her mind, she knew she would have a temporary haven with her schoolfellows. She had very little money at her disposal, however, and would probably have to forfeit the week’s wages she had earned. A new dress would be beyond her reach either way. Sighing, she wondered if she could perhaps beg a cast-off gown from each of her friends. This might be a sign that being a governess was not her calling...mayhap one of her friends knew of someone who needed a companion? There was nothing to be gained by fretting, she told herself fiercely. Mr. Fielding had offered to take her to her friends—she certainly could not stay here alone with him, even if he did think her a servant. The impropriety of such behaviour had been ingrained in her from an early age. Yet, a little voice in the back of her mind questioned, would she consider propriety so important if she was on the streets and starving?

  When the housekeeper knocked on the door an hour later, Adelaide reluctantly began to pull her pruned body from the tub. Her gown and pelisse almost looked blue again.

  “Thank you for brushing my clothes.”

  “I am sorry I couldn’t help you more. Here, I’ll help with your hair.” The housekeeper took a pitcher and rinsed the soap from her hair. A maid was a luxury she had not had since before her parents died.

  She climbed from the tub and dried herself before putting her clothing back on. Everything reeked of smoke. Slowly, she picked the tangles out of her hair then wound her thick waves into a loose chignon. There was no time to allow it to dry. A few curls escaped around her temple, but she knew there was nothing to be done about them in the damp air. Unruly hair and the stink of her apparel were the least of her worries.

  As she gathered her few possessions back into her small reticule, she decided to wish the boys well. They were not ill-mannered children, they just had more energy and curiosity than was good for them. She climbed the staircase to an upper floor, where she assumed there was a nursery. Hearing their voices, she opened the door. They were standing, clean, near the window, looking out at the city and the roof tops with their smoking chimneys.

  “I came to take my leave of you.”

  “You are leaving us here already?” little Harry asked sadly.

  “Yes, I am afraid so,” she replied as she gently combed back a stray lock of his hair with her hand.

  “Is it because of us?” Freddy asked. “We did not mean to get you sent away.”

  “You’re a great gun!” Harry echoed his innocent sentiments.

  “I know you did not mean anything by it, but this is for the best. Mr. Fielding will take good care of you.”

  “Do you really think he will send us to the workhouse?”

  “If you keep burning his houses down, there will be no other choice,” she said as sternly as she could, hoping they would understand the gravity of their capers.

  “We will do better, we promise, Miss Elliot. Will you stay, please? You are the only one who has been nice to us since Papa died.”

  “Mr. Fielding will surely send you to school soon. You will be much happier there with other boys your age.”

  She gave each of the boys a swift hug and made her way back downstairs. Even though she was tempted, she would not leave Mr. Fielding waiting any longer.

  Robert did not think even the Queen would be so long at her bath. He had sent the housekeeper to prompt Miss Elliot after an hour. However, even after finishing her toilette, the dratted female went upstairs! He could not help but sneak up behind her to see what the impertinent chit was up to.

  At first, he had been half tempted to send her on her way without offering a bath, but he had been too curious about her, and she was his employee, after all. No employee of his had ever been dismissed and put out in the cold. In actuality, of course, he had not let her go, she had made the pronouncement to leave, which, perversely, made him want to know more about her. She certainly did not seem to be someone well fitted for service. Then, as he had stood outside the nursery about to scold her, he had heard her talking with the boys and their tender pleas for her to stay. It tugged at his heart-strings, the ones he did not care to acknowledge existed, but flashes of being that ten-year-old boy who had just lost his own father came back to him. He heard sniffles from the boys and thought she was probably hugging them. He hurried back down the stairs, deep in thought. Well, he would not beg her to stay, but perhaps he might ask her nicely.

  Pacing at the bottom of the stairs, he was ill-prepared for the sight, when she presently appeared, of her bathed and in an almost clean frock. She had not yet replaced the horrid poke bonnet over her shining ebony locks and her skin was of the finest porcelain colour. Miss Elliot was a ravishing beauty, and there was something disturbingly familiar about her.

  He, Robert Fielding, seasoned bachelor of the ton, had to force his gaze away. He held out his hand to direct her to the door, where his curricle was waiting outside.

  Before handing her into the vehicle, he asked, “Where would you like to go?”

  She looked away
shyly. “I do not know the address. I was hoping you would know.”

  He was suddenly tempted to place his hands around her beautiful neck and squeeze. Swallowing his bile, he looked skyward for a moment, so as to control his temper.

  “Much though I am familiar with London, I do not have the entirety of Society and their addresses memorized. Whom might the lucky recipient of your person be?”

  “Well, I never!” she gasped. “I believe I will make my own way, sir.”

  Her prim little chin jutted into the air and she turned to walk away from him. He leaned against the curricle, enjoying the outraged sway of her hips more than he should, while he pondered what he should do. She would not make it very far before turning back for help. He contemplated letting her take this course, but she was young and naïve. She could easily fall into the wrong hands, and not too far from the luxuries of Mayfair, either…especially looking as she did.

  He hopped into the curricle and took the reins from his tiger. He began to follow along beside her, struggling to keep his fresh bays to a walk when they were itching to lean into their collars. She did an admirable job of ignoring him as she walked past other pedestrians and vendors. After passing two streets at the pace of a turtle, he could not help but speak.

  “It is a lovely day for a walk.”

  His gesture was returned with what sounded like a grunt. Her face was certainly set in an uncompromising scowl. He saw her chin begin to quiver and then her shoulders slumped slightly, so he decided to try a different approach.

  “Where are you going, miss? May I give you a lift?”

  That seemed to snap her out of her doldrums. Her chin went straight back up in the air and she almost marched like one of his soldiers. It was all Robert could do to keep a straight face.

  “I will deal quite well, I am sure.”

  What more could he say? He had always had a way with the ladies, but he had never had to try before. Wondering when she was going to pay attention to her surroundings and realize she was heading into the slums of St. Giles, he handed the ribbons to his tiger and jumped down to walk beside her.

  “Miss Elliot, I did not mean to injure your feelings before. Please allow me to escort you to your friend’s home.”

  She stopped and turned. “Is that supposed to be an apology?” she snapped.

  “Yes, of course.” Was it not—what else did she think it to be?

  “It was a wretched attempt. You are not used to doing it, I can see.”

  “Miss Elliot, please get into the curricle. You have made your point.” He held out his hand to her. “You are about to walk into the rookery and I would prefer not to defend you against thieves with no morals.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. Clearly it had not occurred to her that such people existed. To make his point, he continued, “Yes, one look at you, even in your somewhat dirty clothes, and you would be forced into a brothel or worse. Conversely, you could be violated and pillaged in a dark alley and left for dead after they took anything of worth you had.”

  “Mr. Fielding, it is hardly necessary to be graphic,” she scolded in an admirable governess’ voice. However, she did take his hand and climb into the carriage.

  He walked around and climbed into the other seat taking up the reins. “Now, who are these friends of yours?” he asked, noticing the sun was beginning to lower into the evening sky. There would not be too much time to go hunting for her friends.

  “Penelope Foster is one of me dearest friends, and was coming to London first. She is the ward of the Duke of Blackbourne. Have you heard of him?”

  Had he heard of him? Who in the kingdom had not? “Yes, I am acquainted with him. He is a naval war hero.” He turned the horses around, negotiating through donkey carts, wagons, and horse traffic, then began to drive back into Mayfair, to the largest house in Town.

  “Were you in the army, sir?”

  He inclined his head. He did not wish to speak about those years. The only people he could talk to about it were his brothers in arms. Even then, most things were best left unsaid.

  “My brother is in the army,” she said quietly.

  She was not alone in the world, then, Robert thought; she did have some family. Did the sibling know his sister was reduced to hiring herself out? It occurred to him that perhaps their family had fallen on hard times.

  “What regiment is he with?” he asked.

  “The 18th Dragoons.”

  Something about the way her voice cracked when she said that made him very cautious. Elliot was a common name in England, but could she be Philip Elliot’s sister? The same black hair, the same blue eyes…that would change everything. It took a great deal of willpower not to curse aloud.

  He slowed the horses before the gates of Blackbourne House. Unfortunately, the knocker was down. He sighed. “I am afraid the family is not yet in residence. Do you happen to know anyone else in Town?”

  “I am not sure if they are here yet, either. Miss Johanna Grey and Miss Caroline Perkins are my two other friends. I do not suppose you are acquainted with either?”

  “Of the Northumbria Greys?” he asked with raised brows.

  “Relations, I believe,” she said excitedly.

  He turned and spoke quietly to his tiger, who hopped down and ran to speak to someone on the street while they waited. When he returned he gave an address in the newer part of Town. Robert told his horses to walk on, and they were off, though he was not optimistic that he would see Miss Elliot situated so easily. He began to consider the options open to him and, other than returning her to his own home, which would certainly seal their fate, there was only one person he could think of to petition for help.

  As he feared, the families were not in residence at the Grey home either.

  He cast a sideways glance at Miss Elliot and he saw tears pooling in her eyes, though she was struggling bravely to maintain her composure.

  “Where am I to go?”

  “I will not leave you on the street.”

  “I cannot return to a bachelor residence.”

  “Your virtue is safe with me, I assure you.” He had not meant to be offensive, but she wrinkled her face as though he had told her she was an antidote. Why did he think taming the boys would be simple compared to her?

  He therefore did the only thing he could; he drove to his aunt Phyllida’s.

  Chapter 4

  You need not be so cruel.” The beastly man was obviously enjoying her discomfort, while she was facing life on the streets in cold, wretched poverty. To add to that, she knew not if her brother were alive or if he lay injured in some horrid foreign country. Therefore, she did what almost anyone with a modicum of feeling would do in her situation; she burst into tears.

  “Do anything, but please do not cry.” She heard him groan, and Adelaide tried to dry her tears. It was humiliation in its worst form to cry in front of this man.

  “Miss Elliot!” he begged.

  That only made matters worse. She inhaled painful, ragged breaths which, to her greater chagrin, became hiccups.

  “For goodness’ sake!”

  An arm came around her and he awkwardly patted her shoulder. She was shocked into silence.

  “There, there,” he mumbled, “I will not leave you on the street. See, we are at my aunt’s house.”

  He meant to leave her with a stranger? Wary, she yet took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the front door, where an old, stiff-lipped butler admitted them.

  “Would you please inform my aunt that I would beg a word with her? And would you please show Miss Elliot to a parlour to wait?”

  “Of course, sir.” The butler spoke a few commands to one of the waiting footmen and then regally climbed the stairs.

  “If you will follow me, miss,” the footman said, and he showed her to a small saloon in which to sit while Mr. Fielding was saying the Lord knew what about her to his aunt.

  She listened intently and heard his boots thudding as he climbed the stairs. He must be in the room ab
ove her, for she could hear someone pacing about and the deep timbre of a male voice. Resigning herself to a long wait, she looked around her.

  Everything was white with gilt trim, from the carpets to the curtains, and the walls were lined with portraits of bewigged lords and ladies in court dress. Afraid to sit down for fear of soiling the upholstery, she felt very conscious of her circumstances. Never before had she been surrounded by such luxury. Aunt Hogg’s country house was well-appointed, but this felt the way she imagined a palace would.

  She hurried to stand behind a chair when she heard footsteps now descending the stairs. When the door opened, she looked up, feeling guilty for intruding on this unsuspecting lady.

  “Miss Elliot, may I present to you my aunt, Lady Phyllida Middleton?”

  “Lady Middleton.” Adelaide dropped a courtesy fit for the Queen.

  “Miss Elliot, I am sorry to hear of the circumstances which have brought you to London. Unfortunately, my home is being refurbished at the moment, so I cannot accommodate you here. What few rooms are available are all occupied by my staff.”

  Adelaide held her breath. She did not wish to be deposited with a stranger, and yet, she could not stay with him. What could she do?

  The disappointment must have shown on her face. The lady’s eyes were kind. “Do not fret, my dear,” she said. “I will simply come to stay with you at Robert’s house until your friends arrive in Town or my house is completed. It was supposed to be done a month ago,” she added with a heavy sigh.

  “I could not impose on you so, my lady. There must be another way.”

  “I do not see it this night at least. It is no trouble at all, I assure you.”

  “Return home, Robert, and tell your cook we will dine at eight. I will bring Miss Elliot with me when I have made ready.”

  “You are the best of aunts,” he said, kissing her cheek. The caress brought a twinkle to her eyes and a rosy hue to her cheeks. He clearly held the lady in considerable affection. When the door closed behind him, she turned to Adelaide. “I know he is a rogue, but I do have a soft spot for him.”