Seducing Miss Lockwood

‘You seem very sure of yourself, Miss Lockwood.’

‘I am independent. I make my own living. I like it that way.’

Closer now, Dominic saw that her eyes were a curious colour, being large and limpid and a warm brown, but in them were flecks of gold, reminding him of a young doe. Her skin was white and as unblemished as bone china, and her mouth was rosy and full. He took a moment to note her severely drawn-back hair was thick and silken, shot through with tones of russet and copper and gleamed with the gloss of good health.

His expression said he was astonished and that he liked what he saw. It was in his eyes and the curling expression of his well-cut lips, in the slight drooping of his eyelashes in admiration.

Resentment at being stared at as if she were a mare that had drawn his fancy stirred in Juliet, but she did not show it. Still she was determined to be on her guard, mindful of Robby’s warning. She could now see for herself that he was terribly handsome, and his wealth and title only added to his desirability.

She had also heard all about maids in many of the big houses having to leave in a hurry when they found themselves in a delicate condition, because they had caught the fancy of the master or one or more of his sons, who thought young domestic girls were there to be used for their personal convenience. It was a way of life with them. For all she knew the Duke of Hawksfield might be no different, in which case she would do her work and avoid him whenever possible.

‘You aren’t, by any chance, one of those women who are committed to women’s rights—equality and all that.’

‘Being a woman, naturally I support it, but I am not involved with any group. Men will continue to make the rules for a good many years, just as they have always done, but one day I do believe women will overcome adversity and have the same freedom as men.’

Dominic was curious. ‘Where do you live? Where are your family?’

‘I live where I work.’

‘And do you have siblings, Miss Lockwood?’

‘I—have a brother—a half-brother.’

‘A half-brother?’ he queried.

‘His mother was my father’s first wife. She died. As did my own mother, Father’s second wife.’

‘And your brother? Where is he?’

She looked down at the open book on the table. ‘We don’t see each other very often,’ she answered truthfully, having decided when she had accepted the position that she would withhold her brother’s temporary embarrassment from him.

Sensing some kind of evasion, Dominic looked at her, but did not pursue the issue. ‘And I understand you were educated at Miss Millington’s Academy in Bath.’

‘Yes.’

He cocked a sleek, inquisitive brow. ‘An expensive academy, Miss Lockwood.’

‘My father was a scholar—a professor. He taught theology and history at Oxford University, where he himself studied. He was an extraordinary man, a very private one, and his interest in books was wide ranging. He believed everyone had a right to an education, and where I was concerned he put that before anything else, which was why he chose to send me to Miss Millington’s Academy.’

She did not tell him that it was only at her father’s funeral two years ago that she learned that all his money was gone. The Academy had been very expensive and he had never let her suspect his financial difficulties. He had continued to pay her tuition and to send money for her clothes. On her visits to his rooms in Oxford he had put on a front and she had never suspected anything was amiss.

The money was gone, and she would have been homeless had Miss Millington not offered her a position to teach at the Academy. Of course there was someone she could have appealed to—her maternal grandfather, but he had disowned her mother when she had eloped with her father, and Juliet had too much pride to go begging to an old man.

‘And you were a teacher at the Academy?’

‘Yes, until I went to work for Sir John Moore—doing very much what I shall be doing here—and I must thank you for considering me suitable for the position. But you already know the work I did for Sir John. I included it in my letter of application, along with my references from both Miss Millington and Sir John.’

‘And glowing references they were, too, which was why I considered you suitable for the position without asking to see you first. You are apparently well read and uncommonly well educated. You speak fluent French and read and speak Latin and Greek, so why shouldn’t I consider you a suitable person to catalogue my books?’

‘Because I am a woman. There are many who think it unnecessary and impudent for females to be tutored beyond the basics of womanly duties.’

‘That doesn’t trouble me. Does it trouble you, Miss Lockwood?’

‘No, not in the slightest, but many men are too prejudiced when it comes to women working for them.’

‘It does not concern me. I am merely interested to know that you can do the job to my satisfaction.’

‘And did you have many applicants to consider, Lord Lansdowne?’ she dared to ask.

‘Just the one. You, Miss Lockwood.’

‘Then there really wasn’t very much to consider, was there?’

‘No.’ He went to the desk and picked up a book she had been looking at. ‘The library here is quite extensive and has been neglected for a good many years. There are many first editions and rare volumes, which I am certain you will find interesting—along with a good selection of novels. There is a great deal of work to do, and the pace will become quite stressful. You may find it tedious, but it is necessary if the books are to be preserved. Cataloguing was undertaken in my grandfather’s time and the library needs updating. More books have been added and some of the volumes are in need of repair. There will be much to do.’ He passed a keen eye over her face. ‘Are you up to such an undertaking, Miss Lockwood?’

‘I would not be here if I didn’t think so. As you pointed out yourself, Lord Lansdowne, I am well qualified.’

Dominic glanced down at the title of the book and opened it, the gold signet ring on his left hand flashed as it caught the light. He smiled. ‘You like Greek mythology?’

‘Yes, very much.’

‘Which you have read extensively?’

‘Of course,’ she admitted.

‘And I was under the impression that reading the classics branded a female a blue stocking.’

‘It usually does, in the circles in which you move, but in my case society is not important to me. I am interested in things beyond petit point and fashion. No doubt you consider this unfeminine.’

‘Not at all—but there isn’t a lady of my acquaintance who thinks of anything other than clothes and meaningless gossip, so it makes a refreshing change to meet a woman who does not.’

‘Well, firstly, I am not a lady, and, secondly, I actually find it tedious.’

‘Do you sing—and play a musical instrument?’

‘No, I’m afraid not. I’m tone deaf.’

Her candid confession brought a smile to his lips. ‘No one’s perfect, Miss Lockwood,’ he cheerfully and magnanimously declared. ‘Besides, it makes a refreshing change. I’ve long desired to meet a female who reads Greek mythology, and I shall not be deterred from employing you merely because you can’t sing or play the piano.’

Despite herself, Juliet found herself smiling. ‘That’s a relief. It will make my work a whole lot easier knowing I shall not be required to break into song.’

‘That will not help my project to get the library sorted.’

‘Does it not please you to listen to ladies entertain, Lord Lansdowne?’

‘No, not particularly. Between you and me, Miss Lockwood, some of them would be as well to keep their mouths closed. Permanently.’ He put the book down and perched his hips against the desk, feeling drawn to her and curiously reluctant to leave and to keep the conversation flowing. ‘I am sure we have many points of interest and I see no reason why we should not become good friends.’

‘I see many reasons,’ Juliet stated primly.

‘And what are they?’

‘Your elevated position, for one thing. You are a duke, well descended, a person with breeding, bloodlines and ancestry. I am your employee, and I have no intention of breaching the social code. You have already seen by my behaviour when I arrived—when I so rudely barged into the room where you were entertaining your friends—that my knowledge of protocol is negligible.’

‘It is easily acquired.’

‘I have no doubt it is, by those in a position to do so, but because of who I am, I do not expect noble etiquette to concern me. I am happy with the present arrangement.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You are a cool customer, Miss Lockwood.’

‘Like I said, that is my way. To make a living I have to sell my services; you as my employer are buying them.’

‘And with the mammoth task ahead of you, it could turn out to be a costly transaction. My secretary James Lewis, will assist you when necessary, but you will have to refer to me on several issues, so it is inevitable that you and I are going to be on closer terms. Have you not thought about that?’

‘Not really. Our respective positions make any kind of acquaintance other than a working one impossible. It would be like a Royal Prince consorting with a commoner.’ He looked slightly taken aback by her outspokenness, and she felt the victory was hers.

Shoving himself away from the desk, Dominic fixed her with a level stare. ‘We shall see, Miss Lockwood. Your room is comfortable, I trust—and the servants have helped you settle in?’

‘Yes, thank you—although I don’t think the staff know quite what to make of me.’

‘Oh? And why is that?’

‘I belong neither upstairs nor downstairs.’

‘Then where do you belong, Miss Lockwood?’

‘Somewhere in between.’

‘Then since my own elevated position sets us apart, and the servants are not in your league either, it would seem you are going to have your work cut out—and I am not talking about your work in the library.’ His eyes on the window, suddenly he frowned.

Juliet followed his gaze and saw a carriage approaching the house. ‘You have a visitor.’

‘Mmm,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘My sister, Cordelia. No doubt she’s come to nag me some more about taking a wife.’

There were footsteps across the hall outside. A moment later the door opened and an elegant woman breezed in.

Cordelia, a brisk, businesslike woman, was tall like her brother, in her late thirties, slender and with the upright carriage of a woman who sat a horse superbly. Her light brown hair had lost most of its colour, but her face was still young, her angular cheekbones and well-defined nose had kept their lines and her complexion had a bloom many a younger woman would envy.

‘Good morning, Dominic,’ she said coolly, crossing towards her brother and offering her cheek, which he kissed dutifully.’

‘Cordelia.’

‘You enjoyed the shooting yesterday?’

‘As always, Cordelia,’ he answered drily.

‘And no doubt you spent the night with your friends drinking yourself into oblivion,’ she chided dryly, pulling off her gloves. ‘I called on Maria Howard on my way here. Her darling Thomas looked dreadful—haggard and hollow eyed—clearly under the weather. Geraldine was still in bed—I’d wager she made a total fool of herself and disgraced herself with young Sedgwick as usual. Thomas and Geraldine are both spoiled, promiscuous and irresponsible. They drink far too much—in fact, the pair of them are over-indulged. Neither of them know anything of self-discipline—and you shouldn’t encourage them, Dominic,’ she reproached harshly.

Dominic’s brows shot up in offended surprise. ‘Me?’

‘Yes, you, since this is where they make for whenever they wish to misbehave. Why on earth Geraldine’s father doesn’t take a crop to her backside I’ll never know. Although that said,’ she said wryly, ‘I strongly suspect he’s hoping young Sedgwick will offer for her.’

Interest kindled in her eyes when she turned and saw Juliet standing patiently by the desk. ‘Oh, forgive me. I had no idea you had company. And who is this young lady, pray?’

‘Cordelia, allow me to present to you Miss Lockwood. Miss Lockwood, my sister, Lady Cordelia Pemberton. Cordelia, I told you I was to employ someone to sort out the library,’ he said, somewhat vexed that she had clearly forgotten.

‘You did? I don’t recall you doing so. Still, it does need updating, I suppose—but I am surprised you of all people should employ a woman to do it—and isn’t she a little young?’

‘Miss Lockwood may be young, Cordelia, but she is highly qualified and comes with excellent recommendations.’

‘Well, that’s something I suppose. I am pleased to meet you, Miss Lockwood. I do hope the task of cataloguing these dusty old tomes won’t be too daunting a task for you.’

‘Not at all, Lady Pemberton. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.’

‘You are? Well, I suppose it takes all sorts. You are like Dominic. The library is close to his heart, but I fear I could not bear to devote myself to such a tedious task. My late husband was an avid historian and often came here to peruse, so to speak.’

Juliet wondered how anyone could call such work tedious.

‘Don’t let my brother work you too hard,’ Lady Pemberton remarked, eyeing her brother as though he already had.

‘But I enjoy my work,’ Juliet counted. ‘This is where I like to be.’

‘I suppose you do, otherwise you would not be doing it, but you must not hide yourself away. You must have some kind of recreation. It’s important that you get into the fresh air—take some exercise. Do you ride, Miss Lockwood?’

‘No, I’m afraid not.’

Lady Pemberton waved her hand in a dismissive manner. ‘Oh well, I suppose you can always learn.’

Smiling, Juliet shook her head. ‘Oh, I don’t think so, Lady Pemberton. I prefer to leave horse riding to others.’

As if reading her mind, Dominic said, ‘I must warn you that outside pursuits are close to my sister’s heart, and if you are not careful she will take you under her wing and before you know it you will have become an accomplished rider trotting about all over the place.’

Juliet could not help laughing at that. Lord Lansdowne’s sister had a forthright friendliness she liked.

‘She is the same with everyone,’ Dominic went on, ‘although it causes some of her friends much vexation.’

‘I can’t see why,’ Juliet countered. ‘I would be happy for you to visit me here in the library at any time.’

Lady Pemberton beamed. ‘Good. Be assured I shall do just that and we shall have tea together. Since my dear husband passed on I find I have far too much time on my hands. I shall often come to see how you are progressing with your work, but I must insist that you do not impose a discussion of literature upon me. I prefer to chat about more interesting matters.’

‘You heard what Miss Lockwood said, Cordelia. She is here to work, not socialise,’ her brother firmly stated. ‘Besides, she has already told me she has no interest in frivolous matters.’

‘Well, I’m sure we shall find something in common to talk about.’

‘When she accepted the position she took on an obligation to me through to the completion of this project.’

‘Really, Dominic, you cannot keep the poor girl cooped up here all the time. And might I suggest that in making her feel welcome you do not terrify her with your ducal intimidation. Make use of the charming aspects of your character. Do not drive her too hard. Remember that she is a woman first.’

Dominic scowled and, taking his sister’s arm, marched her to the door. ‘I will keep what you say in mind, Cordelia. Now let us leave Miss Lockwood to do what I am paying her a great deal of money to do and we will go elsewhere to discuss why you are here.’

‘Oh, very well. Goodbye, Miss Lockwood. I shall visit you very soon. You know why I have come to see you, Dominic, so don’t pretend you don’t,’ Lady Pemberton retorted as she was led away, unaware that the library door was ajar and that she was being overheard by Juliet as they crossed the hall to her brother’s study. ‘There is nothing that would delight me more than to know you have found someone to marry, a young woman who possesses the requirements of birth and breeding enough to make her worthy of marrying into the Lansdowne family and producing your heir.’

‘I know, Cordelia, since you never tire of telling me at every opportunity.’

‘You are the Duke of Hawksfield, so you must marry well for duty’s sake. I know you would prefer not to marry at all, but you are not getting any younger and you must secure an heir. You cannot go on postponing the inevitable any longer. Besides, it’s about time you made me an aunt.’

Eight years ago, despite the fact that Dominic was an only son and had not produced an heir to ensure the succession, his father had bought him a commission in the army. He had fought many battles in Spain against Napoleon’s army, his daring and courage in the face of the enemy earning him the reputation as an invincible opponent. Two years ago, after fighting in the battle at Waterloo, which was quickly followed by his father’s demise, he had resigned his commission and returned to Lansdowne House to resume the duties and responsibilities of a dukedom, and it was Cordelia’s opinion that it entailed taking a wife and producing the necessary heir.

‘Cordelia, as usual you are being far too dramatic. You have raised this particular issue many times and it is becoming tiresome. I am quite content as I am, and I want nothing to mar my present contentment—a wife would.’

‘You cannot continue evading the issue as you do, Dominic,’ his sister persisted. ‘Of course, if you do marry, you will have to give up your current mistress. You do realise that, don’t you?’

Frances was no secret, but it was not the done thing for a gentleman to discuss his mistress with his sister. On this occasion, however, Dominic wanted Cordelia to understand his intentions. ‘My choice of bride is not your concern, Cordelia, and neither is my mistress. I am not giving Frances up.’

‘Are you telling me you intend to keep her on after you are married?’ his sister gasped in shocked tones.

Standing by the partly open door, Juliet heard Lord Lansdowne chuckle low in his throat.

‘That’s what gentlemen do all the time, Cordelia. The English nobility, as you will know, marry only for prestige and money, then look elsewhere for sexual fulfilment. When I marry, the lady I choose will be well bred, healthy and gracious. I shall not be expecting to be made happy by it—which is where Frances will come in.’

‘Marriage may surprise you. You might even be made happy by it—as happy as I was with my darling Edward, happy enough that you will not need the companionship of such women as Frances Parker. I beg of you to at least try to find someone you could love.’

‘You always were a romantic, Cordelia,’ Juliet heard Lord Lansdowne reply with irony, their voices getting fainter as they entered his study. ‘You and Edward were blessed to have loved each other so devotedly—’

‘As you once did,’ Cordelia said on a softer note. ‘Amelia had everything—looks, breeding and style—and I know you were dazzled by her looks. It was a wicked tragedy what happened—to you more than anyone else—and then for her to die so suddenly, but it was over eight years ago and life goes on.’

‘What I felt for Amelia only comes once in a lifetime, Cordelia. You should know that. Anything after that is only second best.’

Neither of them heard the click of the library door as Juliet closed it to shut out their conversation.

‘You never did get over that, did you, Dominic?’

‘Oh, I got over it, Cordelia. I also learned my lesson. Never trust a woman.’

‘That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? Not all women are like that.’

‘You are the exception, Cordelia.’

It was not in Juliet’s nature to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, which was why she had closed the door without listening to the rest of what they had to say, but what she had heard told her more about her employer than she cared for. He really was a libertine of the first degree if he insisted on keeping a mistress when he acquired a wife, and she pitied the woman he would eventually choose to marry, but she was also saddened by his loss, a loss that had plainly been so traumatic for him that it had made it difficult for him to marry any other woman.

Over the days that followed Juliet embarked on the task to familiarise herself with her new position and to absorb everything that was required of her with all the determination and intelligence she possessed. It was a demanding task and Lord Lansdowne was a demanding employer. His secretary, James Lewis, a mild-mannered, middle-aged man, was indeed helpful in showing her the ropes, and Lord Lansdowne himself frequently came to the library. He was critical and yet at the same time he gave praise where it was due and was interested in the progress she was making.

Their encounters were beginning to disturb her. She was overwhelmed by the sensations he aroused in her. She could not believe how her heart leapt when she caught unexpected sight of him, the delight when he smiled at her. At the same time she did not like the feeling of weakness, of powerlessness.

Often he would come upon her when she was so engrossed in her work that she was at her most vulnerable, her guard relaxed. Without warning he would appear beside her and look over her shoulder. She would feel his warm breath on her cheek and smell the subtle tang of his cologne, and felt betrayed by the way her body responded to him in stark opposition to her wishes. His great virility alarmed her at such close quarters.

It was her day off, a glorious day, with the sun shining out of a deep blue sky and not a cloud in sight. With a book to read, an apple in her pocket and wearing a green bonnet to shield her face from the sun, she intended finding a quiet spot in the extensive gardens where she would be uninterrupted.

Encountering Dolly in the passage leading from the kitchen to the yard at the back of the house struggling with a large basket covered with a snowy white cloth, she paused. ‘What on earth have you got there, Dolly? I hope you don’t have to carry it very far.’

‘To the field beyond the stables, miss, where they’re cutting the winter wheat.’

Juliet knew the home farm, run by the competent Farmer Shepherd, whose scarecrow his Grace had likened her to, had started the harvest. True to tradition, the Harvest Horn was sounded each morning at five o’clock, summoning the workers to the fields. ‘Here, let me help you. You’ll strain yourself, carrying the basket all that way.’

‘Thank you, miss. I’d be ever so grateful. All the baskets of food have already been taken to the field, but this is full of some late pies just out of the oven. There’s a large workforce to cater for. His Grace is giving them a hand, so Cook wants to create a good impression by making sure everyone’s well fed and watered—so to speak.’ She gave the basket a look of disdain. ‘There are enough pies and pasties in there to feed an army.’

Juliet placed her book on a window sill, and between them they took the handle and went outside. The air was hot and sultry and heavy with the scent of flowers blooming in beds along the path that led to the stables and the fields beyond.

‘You say the Duke is helping with the harvest, Dolly?’

‘Always does. Loves it, he does. He’s always there come hay time and harvest. Seems to like the physical work—suppose it’s got something to do with him being in the army. There’s no keeping him away from it.’

‘But don’t the workers find his presence intimidating?’

‘No—not a bit. They’re used to him and treat him like one of them—which is the way he likes it when he’s in the field. He wouldn’t have it any other way.’

Reaching the field, Juliet thought what a beautiful sight it was. It was full of people, young and old, with men bending low, grasping the corn in handfuls and cutting it with the serrated edge of the sickle, the metal shining in the sun as the heavy heads of wheat fell in a graceful form before being hooked into sheaves. The men cut and the women gathered the sheaves together with their bare hands. Each sheaf was bound with a straw bond, which had been made from the cut corn and tied with a special knot. They worked until the mid-day sun baked the cornfield, making the uncut wheat crackle and the reapers’ hunger and thirst for food and drink.