Temptation Of A Governess

Chapter Two

Alex was still mulling over his defeat as he drove into town and his mood was not improved by the knowledge that he had promised to attend Almack’s that night. The Dowager Marchioness of Hune had written to tell him she was helping to launch a young friend into the ton and asked for his support. Lady Hune was his great-aunt and one of the few Arrandale relatives who was not pressing him to marry. Also, he was fond of her in a careless sort of way and he had agreed to look in. Well, he would not go back on his word, even if it meant entering the notorious Marriage Mart.

* * *

After a solitary dinner he walked the short distance to King Street, where his mission was soon accomplished. Miss Ellen Tatham was a lively beauty so it was no hardship to stand up with her and once he had done his duty he made his escape and rewarded himself with a visit to a discreet little house off Piccadilly, where he could be sure of more congenial company.

The house was owned by Lady Frances Betsford, a widow and the youngest daughter of an impoverished peer. Despite being an accredited beauty, she had been unable to do better than a mere baronet for a husband. However he had died within twelve months of the ceremony and left his widow with a comfortable competence. She had lived in some style in town for the past five years, moving in all but the highest circles, tolerated by the ladies and sought out by their husbands. Her name had been linked with several prominent society figures in the past and most recently it had been coupled with the new Earl of Davenport.

Alex had known Frances for years. There had been a brief liaison, when he had first arrived in town, and she was keen now to get him back in her bed. Alex was well aware that her renewed interest in him stemmed from his accession to the peerage. That did not overly concern him, he knew his world and viewed it with a cynical eye. Lady Frances wanted to be a countess and she was not ineligible. Her birth was good, she was beautiful, intelligent and no ingénue who would bore him within weeks. That was a definite advantage, he thought as he walked into her crowded drawing room. He watched her as she leaned over Sir Sydney Dunford’s shoulder to advise him on his discard and realised just how little he cared if she shared her favours with other gentlemen. That, too, he thought, was in her favour. Theirs would be a civilised arrangement with no messy emotions to get in the way.

A tall, elegant figure clad in Bath coating and stockinette pantaloons broke away from the crowd and greeted Alex with a languid wave.

‘Well, Alex, have you fixed the summer party for Chantreys?’

‘I’m afraid not, Gervase.’

‘Pity,’ replied Mr Wollerton, shaking his head. ‘Lady Frances will be disappointed.’

‘That can’t be helped—’ Alex broke off as the lady in question approached, hands held out and a smile on her carmined lips.

‘My lord, I had quite given you up.’

He saluted her fingers.

‘I told you I should be late, Frances.’

She gave a soft laugh and slipped her hand through his arm.

‘So you did. Come along and join us. What will you play, Loo? Ombre? Commerce? Or shall we play at piquet, just you and I?’

He looked down into her beautiful smiling face. After Diana Grensham’s obstinate refusal to agree to his plans, the warm invitation in those cerulean eyes was balm to his battered spirits. What could be better than an hour or two spent in such agreeable company? It would help put the unsatisfactory visit to Chantreys from his mind.

‘Piquet,’ he decided.

Her smile grew. She moved closer and murmured for his ears only, ‘And afterwards?’

Her full breasts were almost brushing his waistcoat and he could smell her sweet, heady perfume enveloping him. She was voluptuous, desirable and knew how to please a man. The invitation was very tempting, but there was a restlessness in his spirits tonight and he was reluctant to commit himself. He gave an inward shrug. It was very likely that in an hour or so he might feel differently.

He smiled. ‘Let us begin with piquet and see what happens.’

* * *

Alex’s restless mood did not abate and even Lady Frances’s charms could not detain him. Soon after midnight he made his way back to his rented house in Half Moon Street. Piccadilly was busy, as always. Carriages rumbled past him and the flagway was bustling, mostly with gentlemen going to or from some evening entertainment. One or two females were on the streets, gaudily dressed and clearly offering their services to any man with a few coins in his pocket and time to spare. One of the women approached Alex but he waved her away. As she turned and flounced off the flaring light from a flambeau picked out the red glow in her hair. It was garishly unnatural, nothing like Diana Grensham’s glorious autumn tints, that thick auburn hair and her eyes the colour of fresh hazelnuts. A man might gaze upon her for ever without growing tired of the view.

A frisson of alarm ran through Alex and he gave himself a shake. By heaven, what was wrong with him tonight? Diana Grensham was not his type at all, she was stubborn, opinionated and what had James been thinking of, to give her sole charge of the children’s education?

The answer of course was that she was not an Arrandale, a family renowned for loose living. James had been the exception, a steady, sober young man who took his responsibilities seriously.

‘Confound it, so, too, do I!’ declared Alex furiously as he turned into Half Moon Street. No sooner had he uttered the words aloud than Diana’s reprimand came to mind and he stopped, a wry smile tugging at his mouth. How could he say that when he planned to set the ton by the ears with an extravagant ball to which he would invite all the very worst rakes and reprobates of society?

Yes, it would be selfish but the spirit of devilry appealed to him and it would show all those top-lofty dowds that he would not be bullied into settling down. He would take a wife when he was ready and not before. He reached his door and trod up the steps, the smile fading as quickly as it had come. That did not solve the problem of the girls, though. He could not hold such a party at Chantreys while they were in residence.

‘It would do the children no harm to live elsewhere,’ he muttered, handing his hat and gloves to a sleepy servant and taking the stairs two at a time. ‘In fact, it would be good for them and she should be made to see that.’

His man jumped up in surprise as Alex burst into the bedchamber.

‘My lord, I wasn’t expecting you so early—’

‘Never mind that, Lincoln. Do I have any engagements on the morrow?’

‘Why, no, my lord, nothing apart from your tailor.’

‘Well, he can wait.’ Alex shrugged off his coat and handed it over. ‘As soon as it is light send a message to the stables. I want my curricle at the door by nine tomorrow morning.’

* * *

Alex once again felt his spirits lifting as he drove his team towards Chantreys. The house had always been the favourite of his childhood and now, as he regarded the east front, bathed in the bright spring sunshine, he was struck anew by its beauty. Completed soon after the Restoration, the walls were of dressed chalk enhanced with decorative Bath stone at the corners and around the windows. It was small but perfectly proportioned, topped with a steep-pitched roof surmounted by a balustraded platform above which rose the elegant tall chimneys. It was a work of art in its own right and would make an excellent setting for the paintings and sculptures he had acquired over the past few years. It was also perfect for the kind of intimate parties he intended to hold here for his close friends.

* * *

It was nearing midday by the time Alex pulled up at the door. He left his groom to take the equipage to the stables and walked to the open door, where the butler was waiting to greet him.

‘Miss Grensham and the children are on the west lawn.’ Fingle took Alex’s hat and gloves and carefully placed them upon a side table. ‘Would you like me to announce you, my lord?’

‘No, no, I will find them.’

Alex strode across the entrance hall and made his way through the drawing room from where the long windows gave direct access to the gardens. There was no sign of anyone on the terrace or parterre, but the sound of childish voices and laughter led him through a gate in the high hedge between the formal gardens and the extensive lawns that led down to a large ornamental lake with the park and woods beyond.

A lively game of battledore and shuttlecock was in progress with Meggie and Florence ranged against Diana. They were all so engrossed in their game that at first they did not see him and he was able to watch them at their sport. The little girls dashed back and forth, laughing and shouting with delight as they patted the shuttlecock back to Diana, who rarely missed a shot. Alex kept his eyes fixed on Diana and it took him a moment to realise what was different about her. As she ran and turned, covering the ground, there was no sign of that ugly dragging step he had noted the previous day. Meggie sent the shuttlecock sailing high into the air and Diana leapt up to reach it.

‘Bravo, Miss Grensham!’ he called out appreciatively. ‘A fine return.’

‘Uncle Alex!’

The girls raced towards him. Diana, he noted, lowered her racquet and watched him, her manner reserved. Unsurprising, he thought, considering their encounter yesterday, but there was nothing to be gained by recalling that, so he greeted her cheerfully.

‘Taking advantage of the good weather, Miss Grensham?’

She relaxed slightly and warily returned his smile.

‘It is a reward to Meggie and Florence for their hard work in the schoolroom this morning.’

‘Must we go in now?’ asked Florence, clearly reluctant.

Alex shook his head.

‘You need stand on no ceremony with me. I have interrupted your game.’

‘We are not doing very well,’ Meggie confided. ‘Diana is so much better than us.’

‘Well, let us see if we can even things up a little,’ said Alex, spying a fourth racquet lying on a nearby rug. ‘What do you say, Miss Grensham, you and Florence against Meggie and myself?’

The girls squealed with delight but Diana shook her head at him. ‘You did not come here today to play games with us, my lord.’

A few unruly red locks had escaped from their pins and he wanted to reach out and tuck a stray curl behind her ear. He would very much like to play games with her, if they were alone... The thought seared him, sending the hot blood pulsing through his body and he had to struggle to concentrate. They had been talking of battledore, not flirtation.

‘The honour of the Arrandales is at stake,’ he declared, fighting down his baser instincts.

He stripped off his coat, revealing an exquisitely embroidered waistcoat, more suited to Bond Street than a country garden, but he did not care for that. ‘Fetch me a racquet, Meggie!’

A fast and furious thirty minutes ensued. Diana, Alex noted, was at first a little shy of having a gentleman present. She was favouring her left leg and limping badly but Alex ignored it, giving no quarter in his returns. To his satisfaction her competitive spirit soon won through and as she lost herself in the game, running and straining to reach every shot he sent her way he saw no signs of the ungainly limp that affected her walk. The game only ended when Fingle appeared with a tray of refreshments for them all and a gentle reminder that Cook was even now preparing nuncheon for the schoolroom party.

‘Then tell Cook to set another place for me,’ declared Alex. ‘That is, if Miss Grensham has no objections?’

The girls immediately voiced their approval of the idea and Diana spread her hands.

‘It will be nursery fare,’ she warned him.

‘Then Fingle shall look out a decent claret to sustain me,’ declared Alex, nodding at the butler.

Fingle bowed and went off to inform Cook of the change. Alex took the tankard of ale from the tray and sat down upon the blanket while Diana poured lemonade for Meggie and Florence. He watched the rise and fall of her breast beneath the low-cut neckline of her gown and again felt that stir of attraction. He dragged his eyes away. This was no part of his plan.

‘Is this how you spend every day?’ he asked her.

‘Whenever the weather permits. Fresh air and exercise are very beneficial to growing bodies.’

* * *

And those already full grown.

Diana was unable to stop her eyes travelling over the earl’s muscular form as he lounged on the rug, his long legs, encased in their pantaloons and Hessians, stretched out before him. She knew he was considered a Corinthian, a man of fashion but also a sportsman, and it was not difficult to believe it when one observed those powerful thighs, or the broad shoulders, deep chest and flat stomach, accentuated by his close-fitting waistcoat.

Having served the girls, she picked up her own glass of lemonade and made her way to the only free space upon the rug, acutely aware of the awkward, dragging step caused by her shortened left leg. It was not very pronounced and had never prevented her from excelling at the more energetic games she had played as a child with her sister and cousins, but she could never forget it when she was in company. She could never walk with that smooth gliding elegance that was required of young ladies. Her mother had developed a habit of averting her eyes whenever Diana limped into a room.

When her sister had suggested that Diana should become governess to little Lady Margaret and Miss Florence, Diana had accepted readily. All talk of a court presentation and a London Season ended and Diana saw the relief in her mother’s face when she knew she would be spared the embarrassment of introducing her crippled daughter to society.

‘You look very serious, Miss Grensham.’ The earl’s voice jerked her out of her reverie. ‘Have I said anything amiss?’

‘No, not at all.’ She pushed away the unwelcome memories. ‘You asked how we spend our days here. We are always up by seven-thirty and after breakfast we work at our lessons. Then, in the afternoon, there are more lessons or if the weather is fine we might walk, or play games out of doors. Our days are very full, the girls are learning to play the harpsichord, plus all the accomplishments necessary for young ladies, such as sewing, singing and dancing, but at eight years old I think there is time enough for that.’

‘I am not questioning your skill as a governess, Miss Grensham.’

Diana noted that Meggie and Florence had grown tired of sitting down and were playing battledore again, there was no one to overhear them.

‘No?’ she challenged him. ‘Yesterday you suggested I might have been given the post because I was a poor relation.’

And a cripple.

Diana did not voice the words but they were there, all the same.

‘I beg your pardon for that.’ He sat up. ‘Why did you take the post?’

‘I have always been interested in book learning,’ she replied, avoiding his eyes. ‘As Meggie’s aunt, I was able to be so much more than a mere governess.’ She explained, to fill the silence. ‘You know how James and Margaret liked to travel, and then there were the house parties to attend and visits they were obliged to make. The children could spend most of their time here, in familiar surroundings, and when their parents were away I was always here with them.’ She plucked at her skirts. ‘In the event, it was fortunate. When the news came, that Margaret and James were drowned, I could comfort the girls.’

Alex recognised the pain shadowing her eyes. He was not the only one to have lost a sibling when that ship was smashed against the rocks off the Spanish coast.

‘And who comforted you, Diana?’

He was not sure if she shuddered or if it was merely a shake of the head, but she did not answer him.

‘We had best go in now.’ She scrambled to her feet and shook out her skirts. ‘Meggie, Florence, bring the racquets, if you please, we must put them away safely. Fingle will send someone to bring in the rug and the tray, my lord, so do, pray, go on ahead with the girls, I will follow in a moment.’

Alex said nothing, but as he accompanied the children into the house he suspected that she did not wish him to see her walking with that dragging step.

The schoolroom was on the top floor, as it had been during his own childhood, but it was barely recognisable. It was no longer dark and austere. The walls were painted white and covered with prints and drawings, many of them clearly the work of childish hands. The girls carried the racquets to the corner cupboard and he strode ahead to open it for them. As he did so his eyes fell upon an object in one corner and with a laugh he pulled out a small cricket bat.

‘I remember this,’ he declared. ‘Old Wilshire, the estate carpenter, made it.’ He grinned down at Meggie. ‘Your father and I used it when we were here.’

‘We still use it, Uncle Alex,’ said Florence, coming up. ‘Diana taught us how to play.’

‘Well, well,’ he said, grinning. ‘Then you must show me just how good you are.’

‘Perhaps another day,’ put in Diana, following them into the room. ‘This afternoon we have work to do.’