From Governess to Society Bride

‘What? Shoot myself?’ A cynical smile curved Lucas’s lips. ‘Nothing so easy. I have my daughters to consider. Their mother may have deserted them, but I will not.’ Looking down at the letter in his hand, he became thoughtful.

‘What is it about that letter that seems to hold your interest, Lucas?’

‘I’m not sure. It’s just arrived from my brother’s solicitor along with the deeds to some land in the north-east.’

‘I didn’t know you owned land in my neck of the woods.’

‘I don’t. Apparently it’s a parcel of land Stephen won off a landowner up in Newcastle—who is now no longer with us.’

‘I see. It sounds interesting. As you know, my own family have been making a profit from coal for decades in those parts. What will you do? Sell it? My father might be happy to make you an offer.’

Lucas shook his head. ‘I won’t sell it, not if there’s coal to be got—at least not until I’ve made some enquiries. I’ll contact a mining engineer to have it checked out.’ His lips curved in an ironic smile. ‘You never know, Henry, it might put me back on the road to recovery.’

‘I sincerely hope so, Lucas. You always did find making money easy. I have no doubt at all that you will soon be over this present crisis and back on your feet. I wish you luck, and if you do go up there then my home is at your disposal. In the meantime, are you able to carry on?’

‘Not for long—but at the moment my prime concern is finding a new nursemaid for Sophie and Abigail before I leave for Laurel Court.’

‘Which is when?’

‘As soon as possible. I haven’t been to the old place since before Stephen died. Eventually I intend moving there permanently, but first I must go and inspect the place. Lord knows what condition it’s in, although any repairs that need doing will have to wait until I’m solvent.’

‘I would have thought you’d have no problem getting a nursemaid.’

‘So did I, but it’s proving to be more difficult than I thought it would be. I’ve seen several, but none that was suitable—although, perhaps there was one.’

‘Then ask her to come again and see how she gets on with the children.’

‘Oh, she gets on with them—and they adore her.’

‘Then what’s the problem? Who is she?’

‘Mrs Brody.’

Henry almost choked on his brandy. Uttering a sound of disbelief, he stared at him. ‘The Mrs Brody?’ he asked, astounded when Lucas nodded. ‘You’re jesting, Lucas. You have to be. Tell me the truth.’

‘On the contrary, Henry, I am in earnest.’ He went on to tell Henry about the American widow’s visit.

‘But—I thought the two of you were at daggers drawn?’

Lucas shook his head. ‘We were, but her application could be of benefit to both of us.’ He smiled wryly. ‘You might say she could be the answer to all my prayers.’

‘But she is an extremely wealthy woman in her own right. Why the devil would a woman like her want to become a hired help?’

Lucas shrugged. ‘She has her reasons.’

‘And will you take her on?’

‘I haven’t decided. I confess that after giving her application a great deal of thought—and needing someone to replace Miss Lacy within the week—I am sorely tempted, if not desperate.’

Suddenly his gaze lighted on the card Mrs Brody had put down on his desk. Picking it up, he looked at it for a long hard moment. Her face came to mind. She was certainly attractive enough. Indeed, from the moment he had set eyes on her his baser instincts had been stirred. In fact, he couldn’t understand why she could evoke a combustible combination of fury and the desire to know her better in him within minutes of meeting her. Slowly and methodically he began reviewing the American widow’s serious proposition, making two lists in his mind—one for accepting her offer and one against. The former won.

* * *

By the time Lucas reached the Seagrove residence and was shown inside, frustration and suspense had twisted every muscle of his body into knots. His voice, demanding to see Mrs Brody, echoed through the house from the hallway, his presence like a strong wind blowing through the quiet rooms, bringing everything that was masculine and loud into the unruffled and well-ordered running of the house.

Eve came out of the drawing room to see who the visitor was, and in a flash her tranquillity was swept away. She could feel the very air move forcefully and snap with a restless intensity that Lucas Stainton seemed to discharge. Clad in an immaculately fitting dark-green coat that deepened his swarthy complexion and turned his eyes to the colour of light blue steel, he looked lethally handsome and incredibly alluring.

‘Lord Stainton!’

‘I would like a word with you, Mrs Brody.’

Lucas strode across the hall and walked straight past her into the drawing room, skirting the hovering servant as if she were not there. ‘Leave us.’

His command was peremptory and the servant stepped back in shock. She glanced at Eve, seeking permission to leave, but Eve was not looking at her. Her eyes were fixed on her visitor. When the drawing-room door closed, shaking her head, the usually slow-moving servant slipped away at a faster pace.

‘We have to talk,’ Lucas said without preamble, striding into the centre of the room where he turned and looked at Eve. ‘There are things we have to discuss.’

Eve raised her brows. His arrival indicated that her proposition had pricked his interest, providing her with the opportunity to chip away at his defences. Her spirits were lifted a little. ‘We do?’

‘Whatever I thought of your audacity to come to my house and offer yourself to look after my children, I should have had the courtesy to listen to you.’

‘Yes, you should. It was most ungentlemanly of you to order me out of the house the way you did.’

A wry smile added to his hard features. ‘According to your blistering tirade, I haven’t done anything to give you the impression that I am a gentleman.’

Eve stared at him, her anger forgotten. ‘No, you have not. Are you apologising?’

He looked puzzled for a moment, then he nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘Then I apologise for slapping you. It was most undignified of me and I should have known better.’

‘Do you regret it?’

Eve lifted her brows, eyeing him with an impenitent smile. ‘No. You deserved it.’

‘You’re right,’ he admitted, ‘but don’t push your luck.’

A sudden smile dawned across his face and Eve’s heart skipped a beat. Lord Stainton had a smile that could melt an iceberg—when he chose to use it.

‘When you had left, I was afraid I might have been too harsh and it was unforgivable of me to ask you to leave so abruptly.’

For a moment Eve was too stunned to speak. ‘And now? Are you willing to listen to me and consider seriously my application?’ she managed to say in response.

‘Yes, I am, but I am a cautious man and there are many aspects to consider.’

She shot a glance at him beneath her lashes, and because he seemed to be genuinely interested and approachable for the first time, she continued haltingly, ‘Before…we go any further, I… would like you to know that I don’t usually go around knocking on gentlemen’s doors. Yours was the first and will definitely be the last.’

He grinned, his features relaxing. ‘I’m relieved to hear it.’

Lucas folded his arms casually across his chest. She was standing with her back to the door, surveying him with a steady gaze. For a moment he was taken aback by the sheer magnetism of her presence. She was dressed in a riding habit of midnight blue velvet, her hair arranged in glossy twists and curls about her well-shaped head that made it look like a beacon of light, and in that room of gentle shades she was a vibrant reminder that life went on.

Hers was a dangerous kind of beauty, for she had the power to touch upon a man’s vulnerability with a flash of her dark blue eyes. Holding his gaze with her challenging stare and quietly determined manner, she crossed towards him with a smooth fluid grace and he felt suddenly exposed. He was staring at her, he realised, but he couldn’t help himself. He was unsure why he was so quick to anger when he was with her. Perhaps unlike so many other women—excluding Maxine—she refused to be intimidated or impressed by him. Maybe she even disliked him a little. The thought hurt.

Their eyes met, measuring each other up, thoughtfully, calculating, aware of the differences in their backgrounds, but aware, too, of a personal interaction.

‘It seems I am in your debt, Mrs Brody, and I apologise for not having thanked you before now.’

‘Thanked me? For what?’

‘You took care of Miss Lacy when she was feeling unwell, the day you met in the park, and took the trouble to see her and the children home safely.’

Eve smiled. ‘I merely did what any caring citizen would have done.’

‘It was a kindness. Thank you. Now, about our last meeting—’

‘You were angry and harsh,’ she cut in. ‘But now you have had time to consider what I proposed, I hope you realise there was some sense in it.’

He nodded. ‘What you propose does make sense—even though it would be a temporary arrangement. In that I thank you for being honest with me.’

‘That is my way. I come from a proud family with background and tradition, and respectability.’ She smiled slightly. ‘I do not underestimate your intelligence and knew full well when I went to see you that you wouldn’t agree to my proposition outright. Anything you wish to know about me you only have to ask Beth and William Seagrove.’

‘I would like you to tell me why you think I should employ you, Mrs Brody, what desirable attributes you possess that makes you so certain you are capable of looking after my daughters.’

‘Well, I am intelligent and sensible and I excel at whatever I put my mind to. I am well read and speak French and Latin and a little Greek—and I sew a fine seam.’ She smiled, a smile that lit up her eyes. ‘I am also good with children, which surely is what you are looking for in the person you employ. I would look forward to getting to know them. They are quite adorable.’

‘They are?’

He seemed surprised by her remark, which Eve thought strange. ‘Don’t you think so?’

‘Children are children, Mrs Brody.’

‘Not when they are your own.’

He looked at her with narrowed eyes. ‘You—know that I am divorced from their mother—that she walked out on both me and her children?’

‘Yes, and for what it’s worth I am sorry. It—must have been a very difficult time for you.’ Her look was one of understanding. ‘I am offering you a way out, Lord Stainton, and I promise that if you are willing to admit me into your household, when the time comes for me to leave it will be done in such a way as to cause Sophie and Abigail minimum distress.’

Lucas was studying her with interest. He had seen the smile flicker across her eyes and the expression had caught his full attention. For a moment they considered each other thoughtfully before Eve looked away. He was a very handsome man.

‘When can you start?’ Lucas asked suddenly.

‘Start?’

‘Your full-time employment.’

It was said diffidently, but the effect it had on Eve was quite dramatic. Her face, as she stared at her new employer, was young, full of disbelief and a shining hope, showing how much she had wanted this position. ‘Why—I—I hadn’t thought,’ she uttered haltingly, ‘but I suppose I could start right away. When is Sarah—Miss Lacy leaving?’

‘Two days, so it does not give you much time. Come to the house tomorrow—we will discuss your wages and Miss Lacy will familiarise you with things you need to know. You will have full charge of Sophie and Abigail. I want to leave for my home in Oxfordshire four days hence, so there will be preparations to make. It will be a short visit—time enough for me to assess what needs to be done since I have not visited the estate for some time.’

‘And the children?’

‘Are to come with me. A jaunt in the country—the country air and all that—will do them good. You, of course, will accompany them.’

‘And my daughter?’ Eve asked tentatively, realising that she had failed to mention Estelle and that he might consider it inappropriate for the nursemaid’s daughter to be in the company of his own. ‘As much as I want to look after your children, Lord Stainton, I will not be parted from my daughter.’

‘And I would not expect you to be. She can occupy the nursery with Sophie and Abigail. I remember they got on rather well.’

‘Yes—yes, they did.’

‘Good,’ he said, striding to the door, where he turned and looked back at her. ‘Good day, Mrs Brody. I shall expect to see you at my house in the morning at ten o’clock.’

Eve arrived at Lord Stainton’s house the following morning with Estelle. They were expected and admitted by a footman, who immediately went to inform his lordship of their arrival.

The tap of decisive, familiar footsteps warned Eve of Lord Stainton’s approach. Turning quickly, she watched him cross the hall towards her. He smiled, a smile that took her breath away, his pale blue eyes meeting hers.

‘I hope I’m not late,’ she said hurriedly, nervous now he was her employer.

‘You are on time. I always make sure I am punctual for appointments, Mrs Brody, and I expect punctuality in others.’ He shot a look at the footman. ‘Fetch Mrs Coombs. She can show Mrs Brody what’s what.’

‘Mrs Coombs is your housekeeper?’ Eve enquired, holding Estelle’s hand tight.

He nodded. ‘She is, although many years ago she was my nurse. At present I employ eight members of staff. Bennet is my butler of long standing, and Mrs Coombs is my housekeeper and cook, with Nelly the kitchen maid. There are two footmen—not forgetting Miss Lacy and my valet. There is also Herbert Shepherd, my carriage driver. He looks after the few horses I have left. When I decided to sell the house I had to let most of the servants go. There was no point in keeping them on. But here’s Mrs Coombs,’ he said, beckoning the elderly housekeeper who was looking at the new nursemaid with interest.

‘Mrs Coombs, this is Mrs Brody, who is to replace Miss Lacy. Be so good as to show her up to the nursery. I’m sure she’d like to see the children and familiarise herself with everything before Miss Lacy leaves us.’

Mrs Brody’s name was not unfamiliar to Mrs Coombs. She had heard all about the furore between this young woman and his lordship from Miss Lacy and it had caused much talk and laughter among the meagre staff. She had nothing but admiration for the young lady. There weren’t many people who would dare stand up to Lord Stainton, and Mrs Brody had tested both his patience and his temper—which was volatile at the best of times—fearlessly giving as much as she got. Jolly good luck to her, she thought with a pleased little chuckle.

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