An Untamed Governess For The Rogue (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 7

  “Yes, and that is the only reason for your concern?” Edmund replied drily.

  “What do you mean?” Luke eyed him.

  “Nothing.” Edmund shrugged with feigned innocence.

  The Duke frowned. “I have been contemplating that myself, my boy. It has been some weeks since the incident that brought her here in such a terrible state, and there have been further reports of wrongdoing.”

  Luke nodded. “I had heard, Father. I would have suggested it sooner, but I could not, due to my injuries.”

  Due to your time fawning over Miss Dowels, you mean. Luke did not have the faintest idea of what it meant to be truly wounded, though he was playing up to it with aplomb.

  “That can be your first task as a form of steward to this estate,” the Duke replied. “You can work with your brother on gathering a contingent of militia men and setting them to the mission of discovering these wretches. Providing you can garner the appropriate permissions, of course. As you have said, it would not do to have word spread that the countryside near our estate is unsafe.”

  “Why not? It will keep the ton away.” Luke smirked.

  “And why would we want to keep the ton away?” the Duke replied tersely. “Your mother has planned a ball for a fortnight’s time, and I would hate for her to receive refusals to her invitation.”

  “A ball?” Edmund and Luke chorused. There was only one reason their mother had planned a ball, and it did not sit well with Edmund at all. He had evaded the institution of marriage for as long as he could, though he knew it would only be a matter of time before he was forced to comply. I suppose I would make a suitable match, given my position. After all, no young lady would shy away from the possibility of becoming a Marchioness and a future Duchess, in one fell swoop, even if it meant marrying a weakened gentleman.

  “Yes, a ball. It is to celebrate our thirtieth anniversary, so you needn’t worry yourselves.” The Duke smiled with amusement.

  Edmund’s heart jolted. So, it had been thirty years since the Duke and Duchess had been forced into their marriage of convenience? Did they hope to echo that sentiment with him, at this ball? He hoped not, though he knew it was likely. His mother did so love matchmaking, though he had avoided her every attempt thus far.

  “Then we will see that a guard is sent through the nearby roads, to try and uncover the cretins who attacked the carriage,” Luke said firmly. “If there is to be a ball, then time is of the essence. Edmund?”

  He sighed. “I suppose I have little choice but to aid you.”

  Luke grinned. “Excellent, then we should begin at once.”

  Yes, I suppose we must.

  * * *

  Later that night, with the children abed, Teresa sat in the kitchens of Rowfex Manor, talking amiably with the cook, Mrs. Dolan. She was baking pastries for the following morning, and Teresa had always enjoyed watching baking in action. There was something comforting in the process of it; the butter and the flour and the eggs, and the way it came together to make something delicious.

  “The young ones seem happy now that you’re here,” Mrs. Dolan said, as she put a tray in to bake.

  Teresa smiled. “They are very sweet.”

  “I haven’t seen them smile like that in a long time.”

  “Why is that?” Teresa wondered aloud.

  “I don’t mind telling you, but there have been arguments of late. I tell you, I could hear them howling at one another from all the way down here. Lord Harpington and his brother, always arguing with Her Grace over potential matches, amongst other things.”

  Teresa felt her heart jump. “Potential matches?”

  “Oh yes, there are plenty of young ladies who’d like to be a Duchess or a Marchioness. And the Duchess herself is keen to see them married as soon as possible, to secure the family’s future. The Duke is a formidable man, and no mistake, but nobody lives forever.”

  It was nice to talk plainly, but Teresa wondered if the cook was being a little too forthcoming. Even so, she felt intrigued, wanting more snippets of information about the future of the two brothers. Lord Luke, in particular. She knew that she could never hope to be at his side, but that did not stop a spark of envy igniting inside her.

  “Have they found themselves suitable matches?” Teresa pressed.

  “Goodness no, that’s why there’ve been so many arguments about the place. Then again, they have always argued—those two eldest. It frightens the youngest ones, I think, which is why I’m glad they’ve got you. You’re a calming influence, Miss,” she replied. “I know the Duchess was glad to have you to care for His Lordship, after he fell from his horse. A terrible business.”

  “It was rather worrying,” Teresa admitted. She was about to open her mouth to ask another question, when a figure staggered into the kitchens. Lord Luke leaned up against the wall, his eyes starry with inebriation.

  “My Lord, what brings you down to the kitchens at such an hour?” Mrs. Dolan cried in alarm.

  Getting down off her stool, Teresa walked over to him. He seemed merry, but there was a sadness, too. It lingered in the downturn of his lips.

  “My Lord, are you quite well?” she asked, nearing him.

  He nodded slowly. “I am today.”

  “I think you may fare better with some cool air about you,” Teresa suggested, glancing at Mrs. Dolan. “I will take him out into the gardens for a moment. Might you make some toast and some coffee for him, to ease the effects of whatever he has imbibed?”

  Mrs. Dolan nodded. “Certainly, Miss. I’ll bring it to you directly.”

  “Thank you,” Teresa said, before returning her attention to Lord Luke. “Come now, let us get you outside before anyone sees you in this state.”

  Together, they walked back up the steep stairwell of the lower floor and across the entrance hall. Lord Luke followed Teresa like an obedient child, happily being led out into the brisk night air. She listened for the sound of the rest of the family, but the house lay still and silent. He had come back alone, by the looks of it.

  “What happened, My Lord?” she asked, setting him down on the steps that led into the garden proper.

  He peered up at her with twinkly eyes. “A plan.”

  “A plan? Whatever do you mean?”

  “We are to find the men who harmed you.”

  “But why are you as you are?”

  He chuckled. “A celebratory brandy around the fire, with my father and my brother. He has already taken to bed, for he cannot hold his liquor.”

  “Neither can you, it would seem.”

  “You know, I envy Thomas,” he went on, a faraway look in his eyes.

  “You do?”

  “He will grow into manhood and be able to wed whomever he pleases. But me? I will be made to wed a lady who will neither love me nor care for me. I will marry her, and she will quake and tremble at the altar because she does not wish to be my wife. That is what I may look forward to. My brother, too, if my mother has her way,” he said bitterly. A stab of envy struck her, but she forced it down. Of course he will marry. You cannot be jealous of the inevitable.

  “You must not speak so.”

  “Mustn’t I? Must I hide the truth?” He glanced at her, with a small smile. “Does it trouble you to know what my future holds?”

  Teresa lowered her gaze. “I cannot say, My Lord.”

  “Cannot or will not? And please, call me Luke. I hate to hear ‘My Lord’ from your sweet lips.”

  “My… My Lord, please do not ask me to answer. And you know that I cannot refer to you in so informal a manner.” She could not admit to caring for him, nor could she admit the spike of jealousy she felt in her heart, at the prospect of him marrying another.

  “Why not?” He held her gaze. “You are so deeply mysterious, Miss Dowels.”

  She shook her head. “I assure you, I am not.”

  “What if I were to say that you were the young lady I cannot remove from my thoughts? What would you say then?”

  “You cannot, My
Lord. You are not in your right mind.”

  “I have never thought with more clarity, Miss Dowels, I assure you.” Luke tilted his head up, looking towards the glittering sky overhead. “Have you ever wondered how many stars are up there, Miss Dowels?”

  “I have not,” she replied, her heart pounding. She wanted him to say that her fledgling feelings were returned, but she feared the consequences. After all, she could not hope to reach such lofty heights.

  “Sometimes, I wonder if you came from up there—from the heavens,” he said merrily, undeterred. “I know so little of your past, and you simply appeared on the road that day. I heard the whinny of the horses and the shouts of those hideous men. Had I not been returning from my military training exercise that night, I would not have happened upon you.”

  “I will always be grateful that you were there that day,” Teresa replied, her voice catching as she recalled the danger.

  “Fate sent you to me,” he said, turning to her. “Why would it have done so, if there were not something more to occur between us?”

  She faltered, wondering what he was talking about. He had never spoken to her in this way before, but, apparently, the inebriation had made him bold. The way he spoke of the stars and the heavens, and of their fated meeting; she could not help but feel flattered, and somewhat curious.

  Does he truly feel as I do? It certainly sounded like it.

  “What do you mean, My Lord?” she asked, biting her lip nervously.

  “You, my angel—you and our fated destiny.” An amused smile lit up his face, as he swayed on the step.

  “You have imbibed too much. You do not know what you are saying,” she said softly.

  He laughed. “You would not have me talk this way, as you do not believe as I do?”

  “I cannot dare to, My Lord. I am a humble governess. You must know that such a destiny is impossible, if you are suggesting what I suspect you are,” she replied solemnly, fixing her gaze on the near distance. It seemed deeply unjust, but such was life. Life could be cruel and bitter sometimes. She had already learnt that lesson.

  “And yet, your words give me hope,” he murmured.

  “They should not.” She stumbled over her words, eager to change the topic of conversation.

  “Why not?” He moved closer, lifting his hand to her cheek. She gulped, for she had come to associate a man’s touch with something dark and disturbing, but this did not feel remotely poisonous. Instead, it felt soft and gentle, making her want him to lean closer.

  “Because I am in the employ of this household. And you are merry with drink. You do not know what you are saying.” Dreams of his kiss entered her mind, making her wonder what the graze of his lips would feel like against hers. He wore only his shirt, with no waistcoat or jacket, and she could see the contours of his muscular physique beneath. It reminded her of the horse ride, and how she had struggled not to lean against him.

  And yet, now, she desired nothing more than to be close to him. Would she feel safe, if he were to wrap his arms around her, or would it only lead her into further danger? She did not know, but she knew she had to be wise. Even in secret, she did not dare to think of him in such terms, so she could certainly not act upon it. If she did, she would surely lose her position and her regard, in one fell swoop.

  “May I kiss you?” he murmured.

  She shook her head. “No, My Lord. You must go to your bed.”

  “With you?”

  She stared at him in shock. “No, My Lord!”

  He was chastened. “You are right. I should not have said that.” Slowly, painfully, he removed his hand from her cheek and stood back. “I will take to my chambers, and I ask for your forgiveness. I have imbibed too much, as you have said.”

  “I think that would be wise,” she replied.

  “But, please know, I will do all I can to bring those men to justice.”

  “I thank you for that, My Lord.”

  He nodded and turned to go back inside. “They will pay for what they tried to do,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “And, if I may, I will restore that necklace to you.”

  Her heart soared. “Gratitude, My Lord.”

  “As long as you are near me, no harm will befall you again. You have my word on that.” Turning back around, he entered the house and disappeared through the kitchens, leaving Teresa to gather her breath and her thoughts.

  As cheered as she was by the prospect of those wretches being made to pay, a worrying doubt nagged at the back of her mind. They were dangerous men, and Lord Luke had already proven that he had a propinquity for trouble. She only hoped that he would not come to harm, in the pursuit of these devils.

  For, if he did, she did not know how she would ever forgive herself.

  Chapter 9

  Stark reality set in as night came to a close.

  Luke paced his chambers in a state of alarmed quiet, trying to contemplate what he ought to do about Miss Dowels. In his inebriated state, his behavior had not seemed nearly as outlandish as it did now, standing alone in his bedchamber as the minutes ticked down to the ill-judged dawn.

  I should not have spoken to her like that. And yet, he had spoken truthfully. He was only glad that he had not said more than he had, for he did not know how he would make amends. He did not wish to put her in a perilous position, and he vowed never to do so again. He would keep his feelings to himself, from this moment onward.

  “I cannot dare to,” Miss Dowels had said last night, when he had alluded to his nascent feelings for her. She had also told him that he should not hope, but he did so regardless. Her words had given him encouragement. Even if he could not find a way to be with her, he would not settle for anything less than love. If that meant he never married, then so be it.

  First of all, however, he needed to ensure he survived the mission to find these highwaymen. When dealing with such creatures, death and injury was a very real prospect, and though he wished to teach them a brutal lesson, he did not want to die for their education.

  * * *

  Teresa, meanwhile, lay upon her bed in her chambers, close to the nursery, and thought about the previous night. She had been unable to sleep, her mind fevered with thoughts of Luke. No matter how she tried, she could not forget the touch of his hand, nor his request to kiss her.

  Closing her eyes, she pictured him, walking toward her across the gardens of Rowfex, with moonlight glowing overhead. She imagined him in only his shirt and trousers, as he had been the previous night. With his dark curls and stormy blue eyes, she imagined him smiling as he neared.

  “You said you could not feel these things for me,” she envisioned him saying.

  “I had a change of heart,” she would reply. “I knew I could not be without you.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  She smiled as she dreamt of his hand upon her cheek, in the same place he had touched her before. Slowly, he leaned closer, until his lips were upon hers, grazing them tenderly. She pictured herself sinking into the strength of his body, letting her arms loop about his neck as they kissed more deeply, his mouth catching hers in a sensual rhythm.

  She did not know much about love, nor about the act that occurred between those who were married, but she tried to use her imagination as best she could. Feeling her way through the dream, she imagined him pulling her closer, until her body was flush against his, his kiss so fervent it bordered on desperation. Naturally, she matched his urgency, chuckling to herself as she envisioned his tongue dancing with hers.

  Gently, her dream-Luke picked her up and lay her down on the grass, both of them bathed in the silvery glow of the moon. They kissed passionately, his body safe and strong against hers. It brought a smile to her lips, even though she knew she should not be thinking such things.

  As she peered up at him in her imagination, Luke’s face changed to that of another. Instead of his handsome features, she saw the half-shrouded face of the highwayman who had tried to dishonor her. Her eyes snapped open, her heart racin
g and her breath coming in short, panicked gasps as she tried to push away the memory.

  Sitting up and bringing the edge of the coverlet to her chin, she looked to the window, where the dawn sky still covered the world in a dusky sheen of mauve. Those men were still out there, and she realized she would never be able to feel joy until they were apprehended. Until then, her dreams would only continue to turn into terrible nightmares.

  * * *

  Luke looked up in alarm, as someone knocked against the door of his chamber. Already dressed, he crossed the room to answer, wondering who could be calling upon him when dawn had yet to fully rise.