Rules of Surrender (17 page)

Howard ignored her. Taking Wynter’s arm, she led him back into the corridor.

”What was that all about?“ he asked.

She opened her mouth to explain, but a glance at him made her change her mind. ”It’s not important. Old history, if you will. Personally, you’ve made me very happy. If there is anything better than knowing you’re under the tutelage of Lady Charlotte Dalrumple, it is knowing that nose-in-the-air snob is back in the North Downs.“

Effectively distracted by this chance to know the details of Charlotte’s past, Wynter’s mind raced. ”Back?“

”They have long memories in the country.“ Digging her nails into his arm, she leaned against him so her breast pressed against his arm. ”Tell me, what did the Earl of Porterbridge do when he saw the ungrateful chit after all these years?“

On full alert now, Wynter gracefully steered Lady Howard toward the nearest empty chamber. ”Just what you think he did.“

”Turned his back on her?“ She shook her head. ”But . no, he hasn’t a subtle bone in his body. Slapped her? Bellowed at her?“

”Her transgressions were scarcely worth that.“

”You jest.“ She looked around the library with interest. ”Now, I know you didn’t bring me in here because you want to read. And I can’t believe you want to seduce me. You’re too… upright… for that. So you must want all the gratifying details about our dear Lady Charlotte.“ She traced a manicured fingernail down his cheek. ”What will you give me for them?“ Wynter made it a point to know his adversary’s weaknesses. ”You gamble a great deal,“ he said, catching her wrist.

She sucked in her round, rouged cheeks. ”So?“

”You will give me any information I seek, my lady, and in return I will not call in the vowels you owe.“

”You? You don’t hold any of my vowels!“

”But I do.“ His warrior’s eyes narrowed on her. ”I bought them for a fair price, and I will have my value from them. Tell me all about Miss Dalrumple, and tell me now.“

CHAPTER 15

”Tell me again why you can’t marry Papa.“

Charlotte looked down at Leila’s earnest face and suppressed a sigh. A steady spring rain had sluiced down the schoolroom windows all through the morning, teacher and pupils could not go for their usual walk and Robbie and Leila were like caged kittens. ”Noblemen do not marry their governesses,“ Charlotte said.

”But you’re Lady Miss Charlotte. Aren’t you noble?“

”Yes, but I’m poor. Rich men do not marry poor women.“

”But why would a rich man marry a rich woman?“ Robbie interposed. ”A rich man doesn’t need more money.“

The children didn’t understand the inequities of the English marriage mart, and the more Charlotte clarified, the less logical it seemed, even to her. ”People marry other people who are like themselves. Just like—birds marry birds, and horses marry horses.“

”Horses don’t marry, they breed,“ Leila said scornfully. Her words gave way to thought, and she swept Charlotte with a measuring gaze.

Oh, no. That the child even knew about breeding was bad enough, but Charlotte was not in the mood to deal with whatever Leila had in her shrewd little mind. Charlotte could scarcely deal with the memories of her… and Wynter… two nights ago… alone and close and kissing.

Kissing. Madness. Kissing sweetly, gently, their lips pressed together, their bodies intertwined…

The recollection should embarrass her and humiliate her, but at night when she was alone in her bed, it was not humiliation that kept her awake. It was the coiling in the pit of her stomach, the temptation to touch parts of her body she had ignored for years. Every moment of the day should be spent in anguish, wondering if she would be dismissed when Wynter returned from London. Instead she found herself smiling at nothing, allowing the children untold liberties, wearing her best shoes, since her second-best were in the old nursery, and thinking of love, marriage and all those ineffable items that Lady Charlotte Dalrumple had lost the right to imagine for herself.

Discipline. She needed discipline. Employers
didn’t
marry their governesses, most especially men like Lord Ruskin, who was titled, rich and handsome. Lady Ruskin worried he would perform some
faux pas
which would destroy his reputation among society’s hostesses.

Charlotte had worried about it, too. But now she realized that his foreign adventures added the romantic flavor of scandal to his reputation. That, combined with the way he looked at a woman, made her blood heat and her imagination fly to long nights filled with those slow, delicate kisses.

”Lady Miss Charlotte, why are you so red and blotchy?“ Robbie asked.

Discipline. She needed discipline, and some way to distract her charges from her blushing countenance. ”You children are progressing so well in your lessons, I think we should have a celebration. Perhaps read a story from
The Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.
Would you like that?“

Robbie beamed.

Leila yawned.

Startled, Charlotte asked, ”Don’t you want to hear a story, Leila?“

”Yes!“ Leila shouted.

”A lady always speaks in a modulated tone.“ Charlotte had said the bromide so often it came without thought while she scrutinized Leila. The child was heavy-eyed and hollow-cheeked. Charlotte placed her hand on Leila’s forehead. ”Didn’t you sleep well last night?“

”No. Yes.“ Leila dragged her toe along the crack between two polished boards in the floor. ”I don’t know.“

She was cranky, but she wasn’t running a fever.

As casually as she could, Charlotte said, ”You’re not afraid of the ghost?“

Leila got an expression of… oh, Charlotte didn’t know how to describe it. Appalled slyness, for lack of a better term. ”Is there a ghost here at Austinpark Manor?“

Immediately sorry she’d brought up the subject, Charlotte dismissed it casually. ”A silly kitchen maid said she saw something up near the attics.“

”Really? A real ghost of our own? I heard so, but I thought it was drivel. How smashing!“ Robbie crowded close. ”Did it rattle a chain? Did it hold a severed head? Did it moan and drip blood?“

”Robbie!“ Charlotte was appalled. ”None of those gruesome things. Where did you hear such nonsense?“

His enthusiasm undiminished, Robbie said, ”Everybody knows that’s what ghosts do.“

”Everybody? As in your new companion from the vicarage?“ Charlotte asked.

Robbie had found the vicar’s son a week ago while roaming the estate, and since, the boys had been together every chance. Alfred seemed a decent sort, and his father was a stellar example of all that was obedient and decent. If he had not always been kind, well… he was a vicar, and a man, and he had a family to support. So she approved of Robbie’s first friend in this foreign land.

But her brother’s distraction had been hard on Leila, and it appeared the boys had been talking of matters better left unsaid.

”Alfred says lights have been seen in the attic. Oooo!“ Robbie ran his finger up Leila’s spine.

Leila backhanded him with her fist.

Charlotte caught him by the collar when he would have exacted revenge. To Leila she said severely, ”Violence never solves a quarrel.“

”He started it.“

”Did not.“

”You children are lucky to have each other.“ Charlotte looked at their two hot and irritated faces and thought how much she would have liked to have a sibling, and how much loneliness a brother or sister would have assuaged. ”Not one child in England has shared the life you two shared in El Bahar. You cannot tell another soul about your adventures and expect they’ll offer anything but vulgar curiosity. But for all your lives, you’ll know one person who remembers how it was to live in the desert. That is your bond. Don’t waste it on silly quarrels.“

The children stared at her. For a moment, she felt the thrill of triumph.

Then Robbie poked Leila in the ribs with his elbow. ”Alfred says the spook likes to scare skinny girls.“

And Charlotte realized they had scarcely comprehended a word. She didn’t give up, exactly, she only chose her battles, and right now she chose to address the issue of the ghost. ”Someone suffers from an overheated imagination,“ she said as if her disapproval could dampen the rumors. ”There are no such things as ghosts, and if there are, they wouldn’t have the audacity to move into your father’s house.“

”Not with Grandmama living here,“ Leila declared. ”She’d scare the ghost!“

Both children giggled.

”That’s enough,“ Charlotte declared sternly, and their giggles subsided. Charlotte didn’t know what to do about their blatant disrespect for their grandmother. Adorna had no idea what to do with her newly acquired grandchildren, nor did she try to learn. Mostly she watched them as if they were curiosities to be examined. Until Lady Ruskin decided to become a part of their lives, she would be an object of fun to the resentful children.

”Bring the candles, Robbie,“ Charlotte commanded.

A fire burned on the hearth to chase the chill away, and she led the children to the settle placed to catch the warmth. An hour of leisure would do them all good.

The hearth rug lay between the settle and the fire. A nice, large hearth rug… temptation. Charlotte stared at the thick, brightly woven floor covering and saw Wynter as he was in the old nursery every evening. Lolling on the cushions, smiling, handsome and indecorous. Sometimes, when she looked at him so relaxed and content, she was reminded of how, in the years before her parents’ deaths, she had had the confidence to do what she wished without worry of reprisal. So many years ago, and yet she remembered.

”Lady Miss Charlotte, what are you doing?“ Robbie asked.

Charlotte came out of her reverie to find Leila and Robbie staring at her. ”I was thinking that we should lie on our backs to read today.“ Her own audacity astonished her, but when her gaze rested on Leila, she excused herself. The child was obviously tired; perhaps she would drift off for a nap.

”Yes!“ Robbie plopped onto the carpet, feet extended toward the fire. Leila followed him, sitting close. He shoved her and said, ”Lady Miss Charlotte is sitting there.“

Leila shoved him back. ”You make room for her.“

”Children.“ Just that one word, but Robbie and Leila recognized the tone in her voice. They hurriedly separated, leaving Charlotte just enough room to place herself. As she sank down onto the floor, second thoughts assaulted her. After all, governesses had been fired for lesser infractions. But Adorna and Wynter had stayed in London last night, and no one expected they would travel through the rain to get home. She could relax; she was safe from discovery.

She wouldn’t see Wynter today.

She lay back with a sigh, and when her back rested on the carpet she waited, expecting the sensation of foolishness to overwhelm her. After all, choosing to rest on the floor was not the same as being captured and forcibly held there. And then lulled with kisses.

No, this wasn’t the same, but neither did she feel foolish. The floor supported her, the fire toasted her feet, the ceiling had been ornately plastered and decorated at some earlier era and entertained her eyes. She found herself smiling.

Robbie’s sharp elbow bumped her. ”Read, Lady Miss Charlotte.“

”Yes.“ She opened the book and found their place.

Robbie lay with one knee bent and foot flat on the floor. He crossed his other leg so it rested on the upraised knee, and he wiggled his foot to some inner rhythm as she read. Leila snuggled close, resting her cheek against Charlotte’s arm. The story unfolded in a far distant land, and as always Charlotte found herself swept away from the drab day and into an adventure where she was a fleet-footed thief who discovered a treasure trove and saved the beautiful lady.

The schoolroom, when she finished, was quiet, and she turned first to Robbie and smiled. The boy grinned back at her, laughing at some child-thing she didn’t understand. She glanced at Leila, and found her slumbering peacefully at her side. With a tender smile she brushed a lock of hair off the girl’s forehead, then eased herself away and reached toward the settle for a cushion—and jerked into a sitting position when someone at the back of the classroom began a slow, deliberate applause. She knew who it was, even before she looked, but like a spectator at a carriage wreck, she had to see.

A very large, rather menacing Wynter sat in her chair in the shadows at the back of the classroom. ”Very entertaining, Lady Miss Charlotte. I have enjoyed this very much.“

The lover she had last seen in the old nursery had disappeared. His heavy-lidded gaze seemed almost sardonic, and she watched mesmerized as his big hands collided again. Applause, done not to praise but to intimidate.

He’d kissed her once. Possibly he’d been bored, probably he’d decided to entertain himself by checking to see if she could be seduced. She had proved to be weak, and now he would judge her behavior ever more harshly.

Worse, Miss Priss had been caught in improper behavior. She was backsliding, and all because of one meaningless kiss.

She was to be dismissed, so she would go with dignity and in the pursuit of her duty. ”Hush, my lord. You’ll wake Leila.“ Catching Robbie when he would have raced to his father, she said, ”Quietly and like a gentleman, please.“

As Robbie semi-sedately greeted his father, she tucked her feet under her and rose as gracefully as any woman could who had not sat on the floor for at least thirteen years. Taking a cushion from the settle, she tucked it under Leila’s head, then covered the child with a rug. With an equanimity she didn’t feel, she said, ”My lord, we didn’t expect you back today. Did you ride through the storm?“

A foolish question, perhaps, but a quick glance showed he wore dry clothing. He must have already changed, for his hair was damp and, as she expected, his feet were bare. How else could he have sneaked up on her so completely?

”I had to come,“ he said. ”I could not wait to tell you of my triumph.“

”What triumph, my lord?“ she asked warily.

”I went to Lord and Lady Howard’s soiree yester-eve, and rescued my reputation with my good manners.“ He smiled. ”And my charming ways.“

”Marvelous, my lord.“ She pressed her damp palms together and directed an approving glance near his face at the place just over his left shoulder. ”I knew you could do it.“