Temptation Of A Governess

The Infamous Arrandales

Scandal is their destiny!

Meet the Arrandale family—dissolute, disreputable and defiant! This infamous family have scandal in their blood, and wherever they go their reputation will always precede them!

Don’t miss any of the fabulous books in Sarah Mallory’s tantalising new quartet!

The Chaperon’s Seduction Already available

Temptation of a Governess Available now

and look for two more sinfully scandalous stories, coming soon!

Author Note

When I was very young I loved fairytales—especially the story of The Ugly Duckling, the little creature who did not fit in. This is how I saw Diana Grensham: a young lady who has been told from a very early age that she is unattractive. She has therefore hidden herself away from the world, living as a governess because, as she says, governesses are of no consequence.

When we meet Alex he is a privileged young man with looks, health and fortune—a sportsman with an eye for beauty. The world is at his feet and no one has ever opposed his will…until he meets Diana. Despite their differences, Alex is the one man who sees past Diana’s self-effacing shell to the spirited and beautiful woman inside. He gives her the confidence to believe in herself.

Alex changes, too. He learns that the hedonistic world he inhabits is not the one he wants to live in. He discovers that happiness lies with Diana, but after all he has done to alienate her how can she trust him? The ballroom scene at the end of Temptation of a Governess is one of the most touching I have ever written: so much hangs in the balance, and it is important that both Diana and Alex get it right. That is for you, the reader, to judge.

Temptation of a Governess

Sarah Mallory

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SARAH MALLORY was born in the West Country and now lives on the beautiful Yorkshire moors. She has been writing for more than three decades—mainly historical romances set in the Georgian and Regency period. She has won several awards for her writing, most recently the Romantic Novelists’ Association RoNA Rose Award in 2012 (for The Dangerous Lord Darrington) and 2013 (for Beneath the Major’s Scars).

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To Kathryn, my lovely editor,

and all the team at Richmond,

without whom these books would never happen.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The April sun shone down brightly on the low-slung racing curricle as it bowled through the lanes and Alex Arrandale felt the winter gloom lifting from his spirits. A gloom that had settled and remained with him since he had heard of the shipwreck that had taken the life of his brother James and made him, Alex, the eighth Earl of Davenport. He had neither expected nor wanted the succession. James was only two years his senior and, at thirty, everyone had thought there was plenty of time for him and his countess to produce an heir. That was why the couple had set out on their sea journey, sailing south to warmer climes that the doctors advised might help improve Margaret’s health and allow her to conceive and carry a boy child full-term. The couple already had a healthy little girl, but a series of miscarriages had left the countess very worn down.

They had never reached the Mediterranean, a storm off Gibraltar in October had run their ship aground and all lives had been lost. The news had reached Alex several weeks later and the depth of his grief had been profound. Even now, six months on, he still wore a black cravat as a sign of his loss. In all other aspects of his life his friends found him unchanged. He had spent the winter as he always did, at a succession of house parties where hunting, gambling and flirting were the order of the day. Only his closest friend saw anything amiss in his frantic pleasure-seeking.

‘Everyone thinks it is because you do not care,’ Mr Gervase Wollerton told him, in a moment of uncharacteristic perception. ‘I think you care too much.’

Perhaps that was so, thought Alex as he slowed and turned his high-bred team of match greys through the gates leading to Chantreys, but he had been earl for a while now and it was time he made a few changes.

The drive curved between trees that were not yet in full leaf and sunlight dappled the track. Alex slowed, conscious that there might be holes and ruts after the winter. He was just emerging from the woods when he spotted a figure sitting on a fallen tree, not far from the side of the road. It was a young woman with a sketchbook. She had cast aside her bonnet and her red hair glinted with gold in the sunlight. He knew her immediately. He had not seen her for years but the red hair was unmistakable. It was Diana Grensham, sister of the drowned countess and governess to her only child and the other Arrandale waif who had been taken into the late earl’s household. She was so engrossed in her work that she did not even notice his arrival. Alex drew his team to a halt and regarded her for a long moment, taking in the dainty figure clad in a serviceable gown of green and yellow and with her wild red hair gleaming about her head like a halo.

‘Good afternoon, Miss Grensham.’

She looked up, regarding him with a clear, steady gaze. Her eyes, he noted, were unusual, nut brown but flecked with green and while she was no beauty her countenance was lively and her full mouth had an upward tilt, as if a smile was never far away.

‘Afternoon?’ Her voice was soft, musical and held a hint of laughter. ‘Heavens, is it so late already?’

‘You are not surprised to see me?’

She closed her sketchbook and rose to her feet.

‘I knew you would come at some point, my lord,’ she told him. ‘It would have been better if you had given us notice, but I am sure Mrs Wallace will be able to find some refreshment suitable for you. If you would care to drive round to the stables I will go and tell her.’

She took a few halting, uneven steps and he called out to her.

‘Let me take you to the house. Stark, get down and hand the lady into the curricle.’

She stopped and turned, saying with a challenge in her voice, ‘Because I am a cripple?’

‘No,’ he replied mildly. ‘Because I want to talk to you.’

She handed her sketch book and pencils to the groom and climbed easily into the seat unaided, affording Alex a glimpse of embroidered white stockings beneath her skirts. He could not recall ever being told why she limped, but there was clearly no deformity in those shapely ankles, or in the dainty feet encased in the neat but serviceable boots.

When she would have taken her sketching things back Alex stopped her.

‘Stark can carry them to the house. It is a fine day, let us drive around the park before we go in. I want to talk to you about the children.’ Without waiting for her assent he set the greys in motion. ‘I hope you do not mind?’

‘Do I have any choice?’

‘I thought it might be easier to talk out here than in the house.’

‘You are probably right,’ she told him. ‘You are a favourite with the girls and they will want you to themselves as soon as they know you are arrived.’ She added thoughtfully, ‘Although Meggie might demand to know why you have not been to see them before this.’

‘I have been very busy.’

‘Too busy to comfort your niece?’ When he did not reply she continued. ‘She and Florence were left to our joint care, my lord.’

‘You do not need to remind me.’ He flicked his whip over the greys’ heads. What could he say? He knew it was contemptible, but looking back and considering his brother’s death, he knew that he had been unable to face anyone’s grief save his own. He was a renowned sportsman, a hard rider, deadly with sword and pistol and a pugilist of no mean order, yet he had shied away from visiting James’s young daughter and witnessing her distress. He had told himself that her aunt was the best person to comfort little Meggie. Diana had been governess for four years to both James’s daughter and little Florence Arrandale, a cousin whose own mother had died in childbirth and whose father had left the country under suspicious circumstances. James had taken the child in as a companion for Meggie and the two girls had been brought up almost as sisters. It was assumed that Florence’s father was no longer alive and James had provided for her in his will, including consigning her to his brother’s care. At eight years old, both girls would be missing James and his wife, the only parents they had ever known. Alex featured in their lives as a favourite uncle, visiting occasionally to bring treats and play with them for an hour or two before returning to his own hedonistic life. He might be their guardian now, but what did he know about bringing up children, or comforting them? It was no defence and deep inside he knew it, but it was easy to push aside such tiny pinpricks to his conscience.

‘At least you corresponded with me,’ Diana went on. ‘I should be grateful you did not leave that to your man of business.’

‘James’s wife was your sister, your sorrow was equal to my own and I wanted to send my condolences.’

A black-bordered letter with a few trite sentences. How cold and hard that must have appeared to her.

Her hand came up, as if to ward off a blow. ‘Yes, thank you.’

It occurred to Alex that she shared his dislike of overt emotion, so he did not pursue the matter, merely asked after the girls.

‘They seem happy enough, but they miss their mama and papa. I know Florence is only a cousin, but her grief is equal to Meggie’s, I assure you.’

He said with real regret, ‘I am very sorry that I did not come to visit them sooner.’

‘Well, you are here now, and they will be very glad to see you. What is it you wanted to discuss with me?’

‘I was thinking that the girls might like to go to school.’

She paused, then said slowly, ‘You are aware that the girls’ education is my responsibility? Your brother was very clear about that.’

‘Of course, but that does not mean I cannot take an interest.’

‘No, indeed. But I do not think school would be right for them. Especially not at present, so soon after their loss.’

‘Very well, but they might prefer another house, where there are less painful memories.’

‘They are very happy here, my lord. It has always been their home.’

He felt the first stirrings of irritation. He would have to admit why he wanted them to move out.

‘But it is now my house, Miss Grensham, and I wish to use it.’

‘Well, there is nothing stopping you,’ she replied. ‘In fact, the girls would be delighted to see more of you.’

‘That is not the point. I wish to bring friends here, and it would not be...appropriate for there to be children in the house.’

‘What do you mean?’

He gave an impatient sigh. ‘Do I need to spell it out to you? I am a bachelor.’

He kept his eyes on the road ahead but he was very aware of her enquiring scrutiny and found it disconcerting.

She said slowly, ‘Am I to understand that you and your guests might act in an, an unseemly way?’

‘It is a possibility.’ His mind ranged quickly over his friends. ‘More than a possibility.’

‘It is certainly to your credit that you wish to protect the children from such scenes,’ she told him, ‘but I think in that case it would be better for you to hold your parties elsewhere. The Davenport estates comprise several excellent properties.’

‘I am well aware of that,’ he ground out. ‘But I want Chantreys.’

He kept his eyes on the road but felt her clear, enquiring gaze upon his face.

‘And why is it so important to have this house?’

Because it is where he and James had spent most of their childhood. Where they had been happiest. Alex knew that if he said as much she would turn the argument against him and appeal to his better nature to allow the girls to stay. And he had long ago buried his better nature well out of reach. He set his jaw.

‘Miss Grensham, perhaps you are not aware of the pressures that are brought to bear on the head of any family to marry and provide an heir. Old family friends, relatives I have never even heard of all think they have the perfect right to interfere in my life.’ His lip curled. ‘It is assumed that I shall find a wife before the year is out. My intention is to show the world that I will not be coerced into marriage. I want to hold the biggest, most scandalous party of my career here at Chantreys. It is close enough to town for me to invite the ton to see just how disreputable an Arrandale I am and to put paid once and for all to their infernal matchmaking!’

There, he thought grimly. That should do it. But when he glanced at the dainty figure beside him she was displaying no sign of shock and outrage. Instead she had the nerve to laugh at him.

‘That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard and I shall certainly not remove the girls from Chantreys merely to allow you to indulge such selfishness.’

He brought the curricle to a stand and swung round to face her. He held his anger in check as he said with dangerous calm, ‘Miss Grensham, have you forgotten that I am now the earl? These properties are mine, to do with as I will.’

She met his eyes steadily, in no wise troubled by his impatient tone.

‘I think you have forgotten, my lord, that you promised the girls might remain at Chantreys.’ Her smile did nothing to improve his temper. ‘You wrote to me, do you remember?’

‘Yes, I remember.’

He forced out the words, recalling the letter he had received from Diana Grensham shortly after the news of the shipwreck, asking his intentions regarding his brother’s wards. He remembered his own grief-racked reply, assuring her that Chantreys would be the girls’ home for as long as she thought it necessary. The terms of the will had been quite specific. He and Diana Grensham were joint guardians of Meggie and Florence, but James had added a rider that Diana was to have sole charge of their education, being the person most fit and proper for that responsibility.

‘I have kept your letter very safe, sir.’

‘The devil you have!’

His hands tightened on the reins and the horses sidled nervously.

‘Perhaps we should move on,’ she said in a kindly voice that made him grind his teeth. ‘There is a chill in the air and I should not like your team to come to any harm.’

* * *

Diana folded her hands in her lap as the earl set off again. She resisted the temptation to cling to the sides of the curricle, so noted a Corinthian as Alex Arrandale was unlikely to overturn her. Not physically, that was, but she could not deny that sitting beside him was causing no little disturbance to her spirits. Her conscience was already pricking her for the way she had questioned his reason for offering to take her up. It had been a civil invitation and she had responded childishly, doing the very thing she hated most, drawing attention to her infirmity. Her only excuse was that his arrival had caught her unawares. Suddenly she was confronted by a man she had only previously seen from a distance, a sportsman renowned for his strength and prowess. To look around and see him sitting in his low-slung curricle, easily holding in check those spirited greys, had thrown her own shortcomings into strong relief. She had no doubt that when he saw her take those first, hobbling steps towards the house that he had looked upon her with pity, if not disdain.

Not that he had said as much and she berated herself for being over-sensitive. It was a relief to turn her thoughts to the future of Meggie and Florence. She felt on much safer ground there but even so, to oppose the new earl at their very first meeting was not an auspicious beginning to their acquaintance. It could not be helped, the well-being of her charges was paramount. The new Lord Davenport had shown himself to be selfish and insensitive, but that was the case with most rich and powerful noblemen so it did not surprise her. What she had not expected was the attraction she felt towards the new earl. It was so strong it was almost physical and it shocked her. Whenever he had visited his brother in the past she had made sure she remained in the schoolroom, sending the children downstairs with their nurse to join the family. James and Margaret had been more than happy to include Diana in any family party, but they knew how much she hated her deformity and respected her wish for privacy when guests were present.

The late earl and his wife had been doting parents and, apart from short visits to other Davenport properties, the children had spent their lives at Chantreys. Diana had become their governess four years’ ago. She had been just eighteen and declared that she did not want to be presented, hating the thought of being paraded around Court and all the required parties, to be gawped at and pitied because she could not walk gracefully. Her parents had been relieved, not only to be spared the cost of a court presentation but also the embarrassment of having to show off their ‘poor little cripple’.

She had met Alex at James and Margaret’s wedding, of course, but a vigorous young man just entering Oxford had given no more than a cursory glance to the eleven-year-old sister of his brother’s bride. Since then Diana had kept out of his way, but she had followed his career and knew his reputation as a fashionable sporting gentleman devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. He was a perfect example of the notorious Arrandale family and nothing like his staid and respectable older brother. Now, sitting beside him in the curricle, she was very aware of the size and power of the man. His shoulders were so broad it was impossible not to bump against him as the vehicle swayed on the uneven carriageway, and he was not even wearing a many-caped greatcoat to add to their width, merely a close-fitting coat that was moulded to his athletic body with barely a crease. His hands, encased in soft kid gloves, guided the team with the ease of a master and the buckskins and top boots he wore could not mask the strength in those long legs.

It was not that he was handsome, she mused, considering the matter. His features were too austere and rugged, the nose slightly crooked, possibly from a blow, and there were tiny scars across his left eyebrow and his chin that were doubtless from some duel. His dark-brown hair was untidy, ruffled by the wind rather than by the hand of a master, and beneath his black brows his eyes, when they rested on her, were hard as slate.

No, thought Diana, as he brought the team to a plunging halt at the main door, he could not be called a handsome man, yet she found him disturbing. Possibly because he was now the earl, and technically her employer, even if her late brother-in-law’s will gave her joint guardianship of Meggie and Florence. There was no doubt he could make life difficult for her, if he so wished. She would have to tread carefully.

‘Can you get down?’ he asked her. ‘I cannot leave the horses.’

‘Of course.’ She jumped out. ‘Take them to the stables and I will fetch Meggie and Florence to the drawing room.’

She thought he might argue and want to continue their discussion indoors but to her relief he drove off without a word and she limped up the steps into the house.

* * *

Word of the new earl’s arrival had preceded her, thanks to his lordship’s groom and she found Mrs Wallace bustling through the hall. She stopped as Diana came in and beamed at her.

‘Ah, Miss Grensham, I have taken the liberty of putting cake and lemonade in the drawing room, and Fingle is even now gone to draw off some ale, since we know that Mr Alex—Lord Davenport, I should say!—is quite partial to a tankard of home-brewed.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Wallace. I will go up to the children.’

‘They are with Nurse now,’ said the housekeeper, chuckling. ‘They was all for dashing out to meet his lordship, so excited were they to hear he was come, but I sent them back upstairs to have their hands and faces washed.’

Smiling, Diana made her way to the top floor, where she found her two charges submitting reluctantly to Nurse’s ministrations.

‘Diana, Diana, Uncle Alex is come!’ cried Meggie, running to meet her.

‘I know, and once you and Florence are ready I shall take you to the drawing room.’ Diana smiled down at Meggie, thinking how much she looked like her mother, with her fair hair and deep-brown eyes. Would Alex see it and take comfort, as she did? A tug on her gown brought her attention to her other little charge. Florence was as dark as Meggie was fair but no less lively, her grey eyes positively twinkling now.

‘Can we still call him Uncle Alex, even if he is now the earl?’

‘Of course we can,’ declared Meggie. ‘He is still my uncle, and you have always called him Uncle Alex. Nothing has changed, has it, Diana?’

Diana merely smiled, but as she accompanied her charges to the drawing room she was very much afraid that everything was about to change.

* * *

The new Lord Davenport was already in the drawing room when they went in, standing with one arm resting on the mantelshelf and gazing moodily into the empty hearth. At the sound of the children’s voices the sombre look fled, he smiled and dropped down on to the sofa, inviting the children to join him. They raced across the room, greeting him with a hug and a kiss upon the cheek. Diana walked forward more slowly, surprised at the change in Alex from autocrat to friendly, approachable uncle. The girls settled themselves on either side of him, chattering non-stop, and she heard Meggie asking him why he had stayed away for so long.

‘I have had a great deal of business to attend,’ he told her. ‘But it was remiss of me not to come and see you, and I beg your pardon.’

‘Diana said you would be busy,’ said Florence. ‘She said you would also be very sad, because Papa Davenport was your brother.’

‘Did you weep?’ Meggie asked him. ‘Florence and I wept when we were told that Mama and Papa had drowned. And Diana did, too.’

‘No, I did not weep,’ he said gravely. ‘But I was very sad.’

‘Diana hugged us and that made us feel better,’ said Meggie. ‘It is a pity you were not here, Uncle Alex, because she could have hugged you, too.’