Chapter One
Berkshire, England
1815
MOST GOVERNESSES HEADING off to meet with a prospective employer for the first time would have made every effort to look their best.
Grace Ellerby did quite the opposite.
In her tiny room at Reading’s George Inn, Grace retrieved a small, cracked mirror from her trunk to check that not a wisp of golden hair peeped out from under her cap. With long lappets down each side, it was the type of cap worn by older women who had entirely given up hope of finding husbands. Grace approved of the way it narrowed her face, making her features appear flatter and plainer. Its starched whiteness conspired with the drab green of her high-necked dress to drain all the color from her complexion. Once she put on the tiny spectacles to obscure her eyes, she would be prepared to meet Lord Steadwell.
The bells of a nearby church tolled the half hour. She must be on her way.
Grace tucked the mirror away and donned her dark bonnet and shawl. Then she slipped out of her room and made her way to the Old Castle Coffeehouse, where she had been directed to meet the gentleman.
The entire process was highly irregular in Grace’s experience. Most families seeking a governess simply inquired among their acquaintances until someone recommended a suitable candidate. When they were obliged to place a notice in the newspapers, the hiring would all be managed through an exchange of correspondence. Grace had never heard of a prospective governess being summoned for an interview, especially from such a long distance with funds supplied for her travelling expenses.
That irregularity had worked to her advantage, Grace reminded herself as she picked her way through the streets of Reading, her gaze modestly downcast yet alert for any potential threat. From the money Lord Steadwell had sent for her journey, she’d been able to save a bit by riding on the outside of the stagecoach, eating sparingly and taking the cheapest rooms. Even if she did not secure this position, surely she would have a better chance of finding another here in the south. The funds for her return trip together with what she’d already saved should keep her for a while if she was careful.
She hoped it would not come to that.
Spying the sign for the coffeehouse, Grace rummaged in her reticule and pulled out the spectacles that were her only tangible reminder of her late father. When she peered through their thick lenses, the world swam and wobbled, forcing her to squint in an effort to focus her vision.
She breathed a fervent prayer that the interview would go well then crossed the threshold of the coffeehouse and glanced around for his lordship. The baron and his wife had put themselves to considerable trouble and expense to find the best possible governess for their children. Lord Steadwell had written good letters, too—plain and direct without the superior airs Grace had expected from someone of his rank. Those things led her to hope a position with this family would be more agreeable than any of her previous ones.
No sooner had she entered than a gentleman rose from a table near the door and approached her with a respectful bow. “Have I the honor of addressing Miss Ellerby from Lancashire?”
Squinting through her father’s thick spectacles, Grace could not make out his features very clearly, but she could tell he was tall and lean with dark hair. His voice had a most agreeable timber, rich yet mellow. His courtesy certainly recommended him—addressing a humble governess as if she were a fine lady. If she had met him without her disguise, Grace might have been suspicious of his intentions. But she could have nothing of that nature to fear in her present state, especially not from a happily married man.
“I am Grace Ellerby, sir.” As she curtsied, Grace reminded herself not to smile. She dared not risk anything that might make her look more attractive. “Are you Lord Steadwell, which whom I have corresponded?”
“I am, indeed.” He replied. “I hope you had a tolerable journey south. I appreciate you indulging this whim of mine to meet in person before making you an offer of employment. As a countryman born and bred, I cannot reconcile myself to buying a pig in a poke when it comes to the education of my daughters.”
Some women might have resented being compared to a market sow, but Grace welcomed it. There was something about his lordship’s down-to-earth manner that made her feel more at ease in his company than she did with most men.
Once again she fought the dangerous urge to smile. “My journey was quite satisfactory, sir. And your concern for your daughters’ education does you credit.”
That was something else Grace found odd about this whole situation. In her experience the gentleman of the house seldom took any interest in hiring a governess unless a young son of the family was to be among the pupils before being sent away to school.
“Charlotte, Phoebe and Sophie are all the world to me.” Lord Steadwell’s tone of warm affection for his daughters raised him even higher in Grace’s esteem. “Let us retire to a private parlor where we may discuss my girls and your qualifications at greater length.”
He led her through the main room, where a number of men sat reading newspapers and talking together in hushed tones. The rich aromas of coffee and chocolate hung in the air, making Grace’s mouth water.
She followed Lord Steadwell up a flight of narrow stairs to a snug parlor on the upper floor.
“Pray be seated, Miss Ellerby.” He gestured toward a pair of armchairs and a small settee clustered around a low coffee table. “And tell me what manner of refreshment I may order for you. Would you prefer coffee or chocolate?”
Though the toothsome luxury of chocolate tempted her, the last thing Grace wanted was to relax and enjoy herself.
“Coffee, if you please, sir.” She replied as she sank onto one of the chairs. The bitter, stimulating brew would help keep her wits about her.
As they waited for their beverages to arrive, Lord Steadwell told her a little about his estate. “Nethercross lies ten miles north and east of here on the bank of the Thames. It has been home to my family for more than two hundred years. The countryside is some of the finest I have ever seen—not that I am any great traveler. Why venture abroad when one has been blessed with such a beautiful home?”
“Your estate sounds like an ideal place to raise children.” Grace’s desire to secure the position intensified. Nethercross sounded like a wonderful place to live and work.
His lordship nodded. “As a boy, I was sorry to leave it for my schooling and very happy to return whenever the opportunity arose.”
Grace could sympathize with his reluctance to go away to school, though she envied his chances to return home at holidays. Once she’d been sent away to the Pendergast School at the age of eight, she never saw the vicarage in Oxfordshire again. This was the closest she had been to her childhood home in nearly twenty years.
“My girls love the old place, too,” his lordship continued. “Though Charlotte is only thirteen, she takes a great interest in all matters of housekeeping. Only last week she suggested we hang new wallpaper in the music room. Sophie, my youngest, is six. She likes nothing better than to explore the house from cellars to attic. Once she disappeared for hours and we were frantic until she was found napping on the window seat of a back landing.”
Lord Steadwell’s daughters reminded Grace of two of her friends from school—Hannah, the capable domestic, and Leah, the intrepid explorer. She felt certain she would get on better with them than with some of the proud, sulky and downright malicious pupils she’d taught in her previous posts.
“What about your other daughter?” Grace wracked her memory for the name of the middle child, who was ten, as she recalled from his lordship’s letter. “Does Phoebe love Nethercross as much as her sisters do?”
A waiter appeared just then with their coffee and a plate of muffins. Grace feigned a cough to cover the rumbling of her empty stomach.
“Ah, Phoebe.” The baron greeted Grace’s question with something between an indulgent chuckle and an exasperated sigh. “I fear she is more attached to the stables and the grounds than to the house. She would sleep in her pony’s manger if she thought she could get away with it.”
As Grace added a little cream and sugar to her coffee, she warmed even more to Lord Steadwell’s middle daughter than to her sisters. She admired and rather envied Phoebe’s indomitable spirit.
“Enough about me and mine.” His lordship leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Ellerby, and why you feel you would make a suitable governess for my girls.”
“Very well, sir.” Grace recited a brief account of her background. “I was educated at the Pendergast School in Westmoreland and later served as a junior teacher there before becoming a private governess. Since then I have been employed by three families in the north, most recently the Heskeths of Burnley in Lancashire. I have a letter of recommendation from Mrs. Hesketh if you would care to read it.”
She retrieved the letter from her reticule and held it out to Lord Steadwell.
His lordship unfolded the letter and quickly scanned its contents. “It is perfectly in order and says the same things most such letters do. What I wish to know, Miss Ellerby, is what sets you apart and makes you uniquely qualified for the position of governess to my daughters?”
Relieved though she was that he had found Mrs. Hesketh’s recommendation acceptable, Grace scarcely knew how to respond to his lordship’s unorthodox question. Harsh experience had taught her that security and peace came only at the price of conformity. She had gone to great lengths to mask her uniqueness.
“I do not know what to tell you, sir.” She cast her gaze down to her lap where her fingers toyed with the strings of her reticule. “I am not accustomed to recommending myself. From a young age, I was taught the importance of humility. All I can say is that I want this position very much and if I get it, I will do everything in my power to give satisfaction.”
She cast a fleeting glance up over the top of her father’s spectacles and saw Lord Steadwell’s face clearly for the first time. He looked younger than she had expected, with strong, attractive features and dark eyes. He considered her reply with a thoughtful nod as if it was what he’d wanted to hear. But how could that be?
“You are the last of the applicants I have interviewed, Miss Ellerby, and I suspect the best suited for the position.”
A sob of relief rose and caught in Grace’s throat. “Thank you, sir.”
“But before I can make you an offer of employment, there is one matter we must first settle to my satisfaction.” Though his lordship spoke in a kindly tone, his words chilled her. “Three different positions in ten years is more than one would expect of a governess who gave satisfaction in her work. How do you account for it in your case?”
Why must he ask the one question above all others that she could not bear to answer? Grace’s breathing sped and a wave of dizziness came over her. How would Lord Steadwell react if she blurted out the truth—that she had fled each of those households after receiving unwelcome advances from men?
Coming from a woman who looked as she did, he would probably think she was stark, raving mad! But she would not dare pull off her cap and spectacles to reveal her true appearance. His lordship seemed an honorable gentleman, but Grace knew all too well the effect her cursed beauty could have upon men.
Miss Ellerby seemed perfect... in appearance at least.
As Rupert Kendrick waited for her to answer his question, he could not help but approve of her looks. She was, without a doubt, one of the most thoroughly unmarriageable women he had ever beheld. Pale and plain, the poor creature did not help herself with her choice of prim, dowdy clothes. If anything, they proclaimed her total disregard for ever securing a husband.
That was precisely the sort of governess Rupert required for his daughters. It was the reason he’d taken the unorthodox step of insisting to see the applicants for the position before making his choice.
The girls’ previous governess had abandoned them to elope with the younger son of a neighboring family. His daughters had been much upset by her sudden disappearance, especially little Sophie.
In the wake of Mademoiselle Audet’s defection, Rupert had made two vows. The first was that he would hire a governess who would remain with his daughters for as long as they needed her. The second was that he would put aside his lingering grief for his late wife and find the girls a new mother to love and care for them.
Because securing a suitable governess had seemed more urgent and easier than finding a suitable wife, he had undertaken the task with his usual determination. But after placing notices in several newspapers, reviewing all the letters of application and arranging to interview the most promising candidates, he had found them all too young and attractive for his liking. Until Miss Grace Ellerby, who was the embodiment of everything he sought.
Part of him wanted to offer her the position the moment he laid eyes on her. Miss Ellerby’s interest in his children swayed him even more in her favor. But prudence would not let him go further until the question of her past positions had been answered to his satisfaction. Clearly she had not quit those other households to elope, but she had left, or been asked to leave, for some reason. To be certain Miss Ellerby would remain at Nethercross until Sophie was ready to leave the schoolroom, he must discover what that reason was.
Could she have been too strict with the children? Did she have revolutionary theories of education? Was she a secret drunkard?
That last possibility made a grin tug at Rupert’s lips. But his deeply ingrained sense of caution wiped it away before it fully developed. What was taking Miss Ellerby so long to answer a simple question? Was it possible she did have something to hide?
“Forgive me, sir.” She set her coffee cup down on the table with trembling hands. “I am feeling unwell suddenly.”
Rupert might have suspected her claim was a ruse to keep from having to answer him, but one look at Miss Ellerby erased any doubt. Her face had gone even paler and her breath came fast and shallow. One hand rose to her forehead.
“I am sorry to hear it.” He leaned toward her. “Is there anything I can do?”
The lady did not answer but sprang from her chair and bolted for the door.
Rupert set down his cup and rose to follow. When Miss Ellerby swayed on her feet and crumpled, as if all her bones had turned to jelly, he barely managed to catch her before she swooned to the floor.
“Forgive me! I should have realized you were unwell.” He scooped her up and deposited her on the settee. Kneeling beside it, he patted her hand in an effort to wake her. “Lie quietly and I will send for an apothecary.”
To his relief, her eyelids fluttered open. But when she caught sight of him hovering over her, she gave a violent start and snatched her slender hand from his grasp. “That will not be necessary, sir. I do not require pills or potions. I only felt a little faint. The journey south must have tired me more than I realized.”
Her situation stirred his strong protective instincts, not to mention a qualm of guilt for perhaps having upset her with the suspicious tenor of his questions.
When she struggled to sit up, he protested. “You should not stir so soon or you may swoon again.”
Miss Ellerby refused to heed him. “I will rest a moment, but I assure you I feel a good deal better already.”
The quivering tightness of her voice belied that reassurance and so did her eyes. Behind the thick lenses of her spectacles, they blinked rapidly. Rupert thought he detected a film of unshed tears.
“Well you do not look it.” He picked up her coffee cup and pressed it into her hands. “Have you eaten yet today?”
As she raised the cup to her lips, she cast him a brief glance then looked away.
“I thought not,” Rupert muttered.
He rose to his feet then rang for a servant, who swiftly answered his summons. While he ordered a more substantial meal, Rupert kept a concerned eye upon Miss Ellerby.
“That was not necessary,” she said when the servant had departed.
Rupert returned to his seat. “I shall be the judge of that.”
“Truly, I am quite recovered,” Miss Ellerby insisted. “Please let us conclude this interview then I shall be on my way.”
The interview—preoccupied with his concern for her, he’d almost forgotten. “I refuse to let you stir from this room until you have eaten and I am satisfied you will not fall faint on the street. I must warn you, I have a well-deserved reputation for stubbornness, so it would be unwise to defy me.”
“Very well then.” The lady pushed up her spectacles, which had started to slide down her nose. “If you insist.”
After a moment of awkward silence, Rupert decided he might as well proceed with the interview while they waited for the food to arrive.
After what had just happened, he was loath to raise the matter of her employment history again for fear of upsetting her further. Besides, there was likely an innocent explanation. Putting aside his suspicion, he found one came to him readily.
“About your past positions...” He tried to keep his tone mild so as not to alarm her. “I did not mean to accuse you of anything untoward. It is just that I want the governess I engage to remain with us for a good many years, until all my children are grown. I do not believe too much change is good for them.”
“I agree, sir,” Miss Ellerby took another sip of her coffee. “There is nothing I would like better than to have a secure position.”
Hearing the edge of longing in her voice, Rupert sensed it had not been her choice to change positions so often. “It must be difficult when children outgrow the need for a governess and it becomes necessary to seek a new post.”
Miss Ellerby gave a slow nod that suggested weariness and discouragement.
So the explanation was as simple as that? Rupert chided himself for jumping to conclusions. Poor Miss Ellerby must have had the misfortune to teach a succession of older girls who only needed a governess for two or three years. No wonder she was so eager to find a more secure position. He could imagine few fates worse than being forced to move so often from place to place with nowhere to truly call home.
“In that case,” he announced. “I am satisfied. The position is yours if you want it.”
“Do you mean it, sir?” Behind her thick spectacles, Miss Ellerby blinked rapidly. “Just like that?”
Just like that, indeed. Rupert was not accustomed to making decisions in such haste, but guilt, pity and necessity had conspired to force his hand. He hoped he would not regret it.
Determined not to betray any sign of uncertainty, he gave a firm nod. “Of course I mean it. Why would you ask such a thing?”
Miss Ellerby gnawed on her lower lip. “I only wondered whether you wish to consult your wife before making your final decision.”
For quite some time now, Rupert had believed the worst of his grief was over. Life at Nethercross carried on as it had always done... except for Annabelle’s absence. But Miss Ellerby’s casual mention of his late wife, as if she must still be alive, made him fear he might never truly recover from his loss.
“I do not have a wife,” he snapped then realized how that might sound. “I did once, of course, but she died four years ago.”
Four years, five months and eleven days. It shocked Rupert to realize he still kept such a close count.
“I am so sorry!” Miss Ellerby seemed torn between shrinking from his gruff outburst and reaching toward him in sympathy. “You never mentioned... that is, your letter referred to us and we, so I assumed you meant...”
Rupert shook his head. “I was talking about my daughters and me.”
It was an understandable mistake, he admitted to himself, and his fault for being so reluctant to mention his widowed state. In those first terrible weeks and months after Annabelle’s death, he’d had a daft fancy that if he did not speak of his loss, it would not be final. Gradually that resistance had settled into a habit.
Even now, it made him uneasy to talk about his bereavement. That uneasiness compelled him to change the subject as quickly as possible. “So you see, the decision to hire you rests with me alone and I wish to offer you the position. If you are minded to accept, we can start for Nethercross at once.”
His gaze focused on Miss Ellerby as he awaited her answer. Surely she would accept. She had travelled all this way, after all, on the mere hope of getting the position. She had said herself how much she wanted it.
What could possibly be making her hesitate?
Grace stole a wary glance toward the baron as he awaited her answer. She could not possibly join his household under the circumstances... could she?
In her past positions, she had never received unwelcome advances from the head of the household. Her trouble had been with single gentlemen visiting the family. However, there had been the occasional look or word that made her grateful the master’s marriage vows kept her safe from anything more. With Lord Steadwell, she would have no such protection—only her caution and her disguise.
His lordship had already startled her with his touch when he’d picked her up and borne her off to the settee. When she’d first roused from her swoon to find him hovering over her, she had barely been able to stifle a scream. Yet she must admit his actions had been prompted by kindness and were not the least bit improper.
Lord Steadwell cleared his throat. “It occurs to me that if my aim is to find a governess who will stay, I ought to provide some incentive. I believe I mentioned in my letter a salary of twenty-five pounds per annum. I would be willing to offer a rise of one pound per year for each that you remain at Nethercross. Would that be satisfactory, Miss Ellerby?”
More than satisfactory. Grace ran through the arithmetic in her head. At that rate, if she stayed at Nethercross for ten years, she should be able to put away a modest little nest egg for her later years. Everything she’d managed to save until now had gone to keep her during those uneasy times after she’d bolted from one position until she found another.
“I did not hesitate in order to drive up the salary, sir.” Much as part of her longed to accept this generous offer, another part resisted. It was all very well to daydream about staying in his lordship’s employ for years and putting money away. But how could she be certain her past troubles would not repeat themselves? Could she maintain her disguise for that long with Lord Steadwell never suspecting her secret?
“Then why do you hesitate, Miss Ellerby?” Lord Steadwell’s words interrupted the struggle within her. “You seemed eager to secure the position until I offered it to you. Is there some difficulty of which I am unaware?”
The fear that he might withdraw his offer tipped the balance. “Only that this all seems too good to be true, sir. I did not expect to be offered the position with so little effort and on such generous terms. I have been much more accustomed to ill fortune than good in my life. I mistrust the latter because it is unfamiliar to me. If you had questioned me for hours on end then made me wait several days to learn your decision, I might have been quicker to accept.”
How perverse her feelings sounded when she tried to put them into words.
Yet Lord Steadwell listened with an air of sympathy. “Would it help if I assure you this situation will hardly be a dream come true? Though I love my daughters, I am not entirely blind to their imperfections. You will have your hands full with all three to teach. Charlotte thinks herself quite grown up with nothing more to learn. Sophie’s head is so full of imagination she scarcely has room for any knowledge of the real world. And Phoebe... heaven help you keep her still long enough to learn anything.”
It did sound like a challenge, but one Grace was eager to undertake.
“And with my wife... gone,” Lord Steadwell continued, though it sounded as if the words came hard to him, “my girls will need more from a governess than book learning alone. For a while at least, they may look to you for the guidance and affection of a mother.”
That possibility did not discourage Grace either. She had long yearned for a closer bond with her young pupils. But the women she’d worked for previously had often seemed jealous of any attachment she tried to cultivate with her charges. They sought to secure their children’s affection by indulging their every whim, leaving it up to her to exert discipline. If her pupils misbehaved, their mothers took her to task for failing in her duties. Yet if she tried to exercise control over them, the children knew they had only to complain to their mothers to escape punishment. Such a system had made her pupils resent her and she them.
Despite the hazards of teaching in a motherless household, Grace recognized there might also be some advantages.
“Besides those difficulties,” his lordship concluded, “Nethercross is rather isolated and I am not in the habit of taking my family to town for the Season. We are near enough to London that I can go there through the week when my attendance is required in the House of Lords. I fear you may find little to amuse you on your half-days.”
So his lordship would be away from home for a great part of the time through the spring and fall? Perhaps there was less to fear from this situation than she’d supposed. “That is no hardship for me, sir. My chief amusements are reading, writing letters and going for solitary walks in fine weather.”
Lord Steadwell heaved an exaggerated sigh. “In that case, I fear Nethercross will seem like a paradise. I hope it will not discourage you further from joining my household.”
His wry levity was difficult to resist. “No sir, it will not. Nor will any of your other dire warnings. If you are still prepared to hire me, I would be pleased to accept.”
Had she made the right decision? The moment the words were out of Grace’s mouth, doubts returned to assail her.
The position in Lord Steadwell’s household promised greater security than she had known in many years—but not without a subtle threat of danger.