Chapter Two
Lizzie released the breath she’d been holding since they’d entered the drawing room. So, Lord Hawkins did not remember her. On the one hand she was truly grateful, and on the other, quite annoyed. After all, he had danced with her once. Had she been so nondescript?
Of course, he would never expect to see a debutante of the ton working in the country as a governess, so perhaps she should forgive him. And at the same time, be grateful he didn’t recognize her. That would have been a disaster.
“You have the little ones quite in hand.” Lord Hawkins viewed her over the top of his teacup.
Why was he speaking to her? Although a governess had a different status than servants, employees were never recognized by guests. Or spoken to, except to give a request or an order.
“Yes, my lord. They are delightful children.”
If the look on his face was any indication of his thoughts, he considered them nothing of the kind. “Frankly, I’ve always found anyone under fourteen years to be quite frightful.”
“Ah, but one day you will have children of your own, and you will find them enchanting in every way.”
He placed his palm on his chest, his eyes wide as he grinned at her. “Surely you jest. When I am forced into the parson’s noose and begin to fill my nursery, you can rest assured I will employ plenty of staff to deal with the little ones.”
“Ah, but suppose your wife has other ideas?”
“Yes. There is that. Something to consider.” He tapped his lips with his finger, drawing attention to his lovely mouth. Although his expression sobered, the twinkle in his eyes told her he probably never had a serious conversation. The man was a true rake.
Lord and Lady Wycliff regarded the two of them with raised brows. Lizzie immediately flushed from her toes all the way to her face. She was bantering with Lord Hawkins as if they were in a London ballroom!
Confused at his attention, and aware of her employers’ bewilderment, and possible disapproval, she turned to the children. She wiped Daniel’s mouth and leaned in toward David to remind him not to burp out loud. The twins had recently taken up that habit, and they thought it was quite humorous, but their parents would not.
Whether he understood her unease, or simply grew bored speaking to a governess, Lord Hawkins turned his attention to Lady Wycliff.
After another half hour of supervising the children and refusing to even meet Lord Hawkins’s eyes, Lizzie stood and addressed Lady Wycliff. “I believe the children have finished their tea. With your permission we will retire to the nursery.”
“Yes, of course. Please see that Nurse presents the children as usual before bed.”
“Yes, my lady.” She hurried her charges from the room and made her way to the nursery on the top floor. Usually the climb did not trouble her in any way, but today she found herself out of breath and flushed.
She refused to believe her conversation with Lord Hawkins was the cause of her discomfort. She was a former debutante. Although she had not garnered a great deal of attention during her Season, she had enjoyed the flirting and bantering that took place at ton events.
However, this was not a ton event, and she was no longer a debutante. She had chosen her path, and for the most part, was satisfied with her current life. It was certainly better than what she would have been forced to endure had she remained in London.
Glancing at her timepiece, she estimated they would have about two hours to go over a few lessons, leaving time for play, before the children returned to the drawing room for their nightly engagement with their parents. Hopefully, Lord Hawkins would be otherwise occupied.
She sucked in a breath when she realized she would face him over the dinner table. Tonight, and every night of his visit. Some employers allowed their governesses to dine with them, since their position in the house was nebulous. Lord and Lady Wycliff were such employers, and Lizzie had always enjoyed the privilege.
Not so much, now. If she continued along the vein of her recent encounter with Lord Hawkins, it would not take her employers long to raise questions about their children’s governess and how she had introduced herself when she’d first been hired.
She needed to avoid that dilemma if she wished to keep her secure life.
The children had been presented for their parents’ inspection, bathed and read to by Nurse, and were settled into their beds when Lizzie took a final glance in the mirror in her room situated next to the nursery.
She’d decided a subdued gown was in order, reminding Lord Hawkins—and herself—that she was an employee, and he a guest. And an Earl.
The blue gown she’d chosen had been one of her plainer garments. The neckline was more than modest, and the soft muslin fell in soft folds around her body but did not cling to her curves. She left off the sapphire necklace that she’d worn with it at various ton events and opted instead for a sedate strand of pearls.
She sighed, remembering how she’d sold another beautiful piece to provide food for her table after her father had disappeared and she had become persona non gratis.
When she’d worn this gown to a soiree, her maid had swept her hair into a cluster of curls and left them to cascade down her back. Now she wore a simple chignon at the back of her neck with no earbobs. She’d been forced to sell those lovely pieces, as well.
Firmly pushing self-pity to the back of her mind, she drew on her gloves and left the room. She had promised herself when she’d secured this job that she would not wallow in regrets. She was a strong woman, and this position was the best she could do for herself. Her employers were generous and kind, the children were lively but sweet, and she was far enough away from the life she’d left that she felt safe.
Lord and Lady Wycliff stood chatting with Lord Hawkins as she entered the drawing room. “Ah, there she is.” Lord Wycliff smiled in her direction. “Would you care for a sherry, Miss Moore?”
“No, thank you, my lord.” The last thing she needed was to have a loose tongue around their guest.
Although she tried hard not to glance in his direction, she was forced to when Lord Hawkins said, “You look lovely this evening, Miss Moore.”
Oh, lord. Was that a blush starting to rise above her neckline? She was behaving like a simpleton, a young miss fresh out of the schoolroom at her very first social event. Why did the man affect her so?
“Thank you, my lord.”
Lord Wycliff began an amusing tale of his meeting with one of his tenants, who tried to excuse his poaching with a rather convoluted story. Being a generous landlord, Wycliff allowed his tenants to hunt on his land, but only if they received permission beforehand.
The entire time Lizzie was aware of Lord Hawkins standing next to her. She cursed her eyes that kept sliding in his direction almost of their own accord. Her heart sped up when she met his gaze.
Thankfully, the butler announced dinner. Lord Hawkins extended his elbow. “May I escort you, Miss Moore?”
What choice did she have? “Of course, my lord.”
“You know, since I will be here for a while as a guest, I would prefer if you address me as ‘Hawk,’ which is what my friends call me. I always think of Lord Hawkins as my father.”
She flushed. “Oh, I don’t think that is proper, my lord.” She shook her head. “No, not proper at all. You forget I am an employee.”
Four places had been set at the end of the lengthy table. Lord Wycliff sat at the head, with Lady Wycliff to his right and Lord Hawkins to his left. Lizzie was next to him, across from Lady Wycliff. This was one night when she would have preferred a tray in her room. Perhaps for the rest of his visit, she would do just that.
No. She would not allow herself to hide. She had been happily employed here for almost two years and enjoyed the repartee that took place at the dinner table. Lord and Lady Wycliff were both intelligent people, and they oftentimes got into lively discussions about art, books, music, and the doings of Parliament. She would not cower in her room and pass up this enjoyable part of her day because of him.
Sitting up straighter, she cast Lord Hawkins a bright smile. His raised eyebrows again brought a flush to her face. Well, perhaps she would not seek a tray in her room, but she would certainly not do anything to bring attention to herself.
“Miss Moore plays the pianoforte quite well.” Lady Wycliff glanced in her direction. “Perhaps you will entertain us with a bit of music after dinner?”
Although it was a question, there was no doubt her employer had requested her to perform, and perform she would. At least when she played, she found it easy to lose herself in the music. With any luck, she would be able to forget the man who sat alongside her long enough to bring her thumping heart and fluttering stomach under control. “Of course, my lady.”
“Tell me, Miss Moore, since children, and their care, are foreign to me, what encompasses your typical day?” Lord Hawkins asked.
Lizzie shifted in her seat. The Wycliffs had had several guests for dinner during her tenure, and she had joined in the conversation, but never had anyone paid particular attention to her. She’d always enjoyed the discussions, and her meal, then usually played for the company afterward.
The few other social events they had invited her to, she’d demurred, stating chores needed to be done, correspondence to be caught up. They’d never questioned her, for which she was grateful, since she still feared being recognized in a large group.
However, they had very few, if any, overnight guests from London. Lord Hawkins had been a surprise. With the reputation he’d had when she was a debutante in London, he was the very last person she would have guessed to grace her employers with his presence. But then she was unaware of his relationship to the Wycliffs before his visit.
“My schedule is very similar to all governesses’, I am sure. I doubt you would find it of interest.”
“Not so. After all, I will one day have children of my own—at least that is what my mother reminds me of on a regular basis—and I will need to hire someone to tend to the urchins. Oh, sorry.” He flashed a grin at Lady Wycliff. “I meant the little darlings.”
Lady Wycliff laughed merrily. “Oh, my dear Hawk, I am sure whomever you take to wife will have every intention, and ability, to engage the perfect governess when the time comes.”
“I daresay, I have been waiting for the day you succumb to the vicar’s noose and begin to fill your nursery. ’Tis a well-known fact that rakes make the best husbands.” Lord Wycliff turned to Lizzie. “Don’t you agree, Miss Moore?”
Lizzie was shocked and nearly choked on her wine. Why would Lord Wycliff assume Lizzie would know anything about rakes, London, and the lives they led? Was he testing her? Had Lord Hawkins’s attention to her made her employer suspicious?
Her heart thudding, she smiled warmly. “I assure you I have no knowledge on that subject, my lord.” She quickly returned her attention to her food.
Lizzie was relieved when Lord Wycliff changed the subject and asked about the latest news from London. Until he asked Lord Hawkins, “What happened with that Loverly situation? Hadn’t he absconded to America?”
All the blood drained from Lizzie’s head, leaving her lightheaded, fighting black dots in front of her eyes. She fought the desire to run from the table and hide in her bedchamber.
“Yes, the situation has been resolved. While still in His Majesty’s service, the new Duke of Bedford had been sent to America to find the man. Bedford returned with Loverly in hand to discover the prior Duke of Bedford had died, and he was now the new duke.”
“Yes. Yes. I believe I remember that part. But didn’t Loverly later escape his prison hold?”
“Indeed, he did. But Bedford, Lord Campbell, Mr. Templeton, and I surrounded him one night. Bedford had to kill him.”
“Well, that’s one treasonous devil gone to his reward.” Lord Wycliff took a sip of his wine and shook his head. “Good riddance, I say.”
Lizzie closed her eyes, her entire body trembling. She took deep breaths to fight off the encroaching darkness.
Father is dead.