Four
“Robert, you do not understand what a great good gun she is!”
“I do, Kitty, believe me I do! That does not mean, however, that she is suitable to act as a
governess
to you young rapscallions. You'd have her for breakfast in a minute, and I'd be obliged, as usual, to leave off my pressing business in London to hotfoot it home instead!”
“She is different!”
“So I infer.
Different,
however, does not always equate to suitable. The discussion is closed.”
Miss Derringer's ears burned. It was not her habit to listen in on other people's conversations, but if they would indulge in such matters in the public breakfast room to which she had just been politely directed, there was not much she could do about it.
How dare the man! Not suitable indeed! Why, he knew nothing about her... . She pressed slender, suitably gloved fingers to hot temples. No, he knew more about her than she did herself ... more about stirring secret hidden warmths in strange, deliciously wicked places... . She had never even
thought
that way before.
Miss Derringer straightened her back and allowed rage to hide the sinful direction of her erring, normally impeccably ordered thoughts.
Not suitable ... not suitable... .! She briskly tapped on the door, then glared at the earl before smiling calmly at his siblings and taking a seat. Anne did not wait for an invitation. She may have been about to lower herself into service, but she had not done that yet! To his high-and-mighty lordship, she would remain, always, a lady born and bred.
“Miss Derringer, tell Robert at
once
that you will stay!”
“Kitty, I do not believe I have been invited. Tom, if you are going to spill your chocolate, do have the goodness to at least aim for the gown, rather than the ice white gloves. Muslin is deplorable to wash.”
Tom grinned unrepentantly. “May I practice on you?”
“Vile child, no you may not!”
Was that a faint flicker of amusement she caught flashing across the earl's taciturn features? Anne smiled inwardly. How strange that she could be so angry and breathless at one and the same time.
“Miss Derringer, I trust you slept well? Your ankle, I hope, is better for the rest?”
Polite words, but Anne could feel a current between them that had little to do with commonplaces.
“Excellent, my lord. I have been so cosseted it is small wonder I am feeling better. Do not trouble yourself over a doctor, for with these stout boots I am cured.”
Perhaps she should not have drawn attention to her footwear, for the earl would surely, then, not have had the audacity to set his glass at her and peer under the table at her kerseymere skirts and the abhorrent boots that she had praised, only yesterday, for their serviceability.
“Deplorable!”
“Beg pardon?” Anne's cheeks flamed, for she had been thinking the same herself.
“Perfectly shocking how stout boots can make the most delectable of ankles dowdy. Miss Derringer, remind me, I beg, to procure you some new footwear. I fear I have slashed your kidskins beyond all repair and shall therefore nobly suffer the consequences!”
Did he
mean
to insult? Anne regarded him steadily. His mind was unreadable but for the faint twist of a smile upon shockingly inviting lips.
“My lord, the boots serve my purposes admirably. I hope you are not so depraved as to imagine I will accept trifles from you?”
“Miss Derringer, after yesterday, believe me, I will not make that mistake twice.”
So! He regarded his kiss as a trifle. Anne would have hit him had he not been leaning negligently out of reach at the far side of the polished beechwood table. Perhaps he read her mind, for in that split second he grinned and caught her furious glare. Two pairs of eyes gazed at their elders curiously.
“What trifle did you give her, Robert?” Tom, sublimely innocent of the charged atmosphere, allowed his interest to be voiced. Kitty, a little more worldly wise, kicked him under the table. Anne would have chuckled had she not felt so suddenly, inexplicably, crestfallen.
“Nothing of any account, Tom. Nothing Miss Derringer could not procure
more
of if she only made the slightest push.”
“But I shall not, shall I, my lord? I think we understand each other perfectly. And now, my dears, I think it is time for me to take my leave. It is a long route to Staines, I believe.”
“Staines? What has Staines got to do with anything? And I thought I told youâ”
“Exactly the problem, my lord! If you had but
listened,
rather than
told ...”
Kitty giggled. “I
said
she was a great good gun, Robert!”
“Impertinent widgeon! I have a mind to send you to the nursery for the day. Be quiet! Better yet, take Tom and scarper. There
must
be something for the pair of you to do whilst I decide what is to be done.”
Kitty knew that tone. She winked saucily at Miss Derringer, made a great show of gathering her muff and pulling Tom down from his seat, then left before her great bullying half brother could change his mind.
“Miss Derringer ...”
“Lord Carmichael ...”
“Miss Derringer, you must realize my position. It is impossible that I offer you the post of governess!”
“I never asked for it, my lord.”
“Indeed, I know that, but it seems my siblings have taken the most extraordinary liking to your company.”
“Extraordinary seems inaptly put, my lord! True, many have taken me in strong dislike, but I don't think it can justly be termed
extraordinary
that the children have taken a liking to my company.”
The earl's lips twitched. “Miss Derringer, you deliberately misunderstand me.”
“And you me, my lord! Besides, whilst I have no inclination whatsoever to foist myself on your household, I might say that I have more to recommend myself than a pretty face and pleasing manners!”
“That is a relief, for I would hardly call your face pretty, and your manners, my dear, are abominable.”
The words were spoken so silkily that for a split second, Anne hardly grasped the sense. When she did, she gasped, her expressive eyes flashing such outrage that the earl was moved to chuckle. They stood and faced each other.
“Careful, my dear, you might just be tempted to slap me again.”
“It is no more than you deserve.”
“Is it? I merely point out to you that your manners are ... unusual. You do not deal in commonplaces.”
“I hold that as a compliment, my lord. I abhor hypocrisy.”
“Then; we are in agreement. Smile, my pretty.”
“You have just pointed out that I am
not
pretty.”
“And that rankles? Allow me to be more precise.
Pretty
is for flowers, for trinkets, for watercolour sketches. It is not for your face.”
“What
is
, then?” Anne felt her heart beat faster, for Lord Carmichael had somehow breached the distance between them, and she could not, for the life of her, find it in herself to take the necessary steps backward. Again, the scent of apple blossom and soap, the golden tendrils that brushed his shoulder and now her gown... .
“Beautiful. Extraordinary. Magnificent. Raven hair and raven heart. Strong words for a strong, strong woman.”
Anne felt she could not breathe. When he reached over to pull out her hairpins, she made no demur save a tiny, inarticulate fluttering of the hands. It was enough.
“Miss Derringer ... Anne. It seems I do you a great disservice. I am never usually so uncontrolled in my passions. I gave you my word and that is what I shall stand by.”
The tiny disappointment lasted only a moment. Anne was
glad
that her breathing seemed restored, and the cool calm of reason descended, once more, upon her eminently sensible person.
“How did you know I was Anne?”
“Beg pardon?” The earl, for once, was discomposed.
“Anne. Anne. You called me Anne, my lord.”
“How very impertinent of me! I glimpsed it on your bandbox.
Miss Anne Derringer.
Very neatly printed, too.”
“You tease me!”
“I only tease my friends.”
What did
that
mean? Anne wished he did not look at her with such unsettling directness. She decided to change the subject.
“By the by, my lord, with respect to my qualifications. . .”
“Shall
I respect them?”
Why did he twist everything she said? The man was so provoking!
“Indeed you should, for I am familiar with the classics, three languages, mathematics, and the terrestrial globe, of course.”
“Of course.” Why was there a decided hint of laughter to his voice? Anne felt an answering smile curl at the tips of her lips. She quelled it crushingly.
“I am accounted a master at the celestial globe.” How boastful she was! She, who took such care to conceal her learning for fear of being labeled a bluestocking. How very lowering!
“Indeed? I have some interest in celestial beings myself.” He was looking at her
that
way again, so she felt she must either melt, throw herself wantonly into his arms or concentrate fiercely on the substance, not meaning, of their conversation. She chose the latter.
“Celestial beings? I would not have thought you would have much time, in London, to foster such an interest.”
“Alas, no! I do, however, possess a two-inch telescope of Newtonian design. I must fetch it out some time, for I fear, since Lucinda's death, I have neglected my stargazing to a reproachable degree.”
“You really are interested?”
“My dear Miss Derringer, why would I lie upon such a substantive issue? If you doubt me, you may speak with an acquaintance of mine, one Sir William Herschel ...”
“The king's astronomer!”
He looked at her sharply. “How do you know that?”
“My particular interest is comets. Sir William is the definitive guide on the topic.”
Almost for the first time, the eighth Earl Edgemere looked at Anne of the raven hair with respect as well as admiration and the usual attraction.
“I will show you my observation notebook sometime.”
Miss Derringer could hardly bear the pain. She bit her lip and half turned away. “I would have loved that, my lord.”
Her voice was so low he only just caught it.
“You mean, I hope, that you
will
love it.”
Anne shook her head. “Do not tempt me, I beg! There is no place for me in this household. I came on it by chance and I shall leave it resolutely. I infer you believe me to be a travelling companion for Mistress Kitty. An unsuitable oneâ”
“Bother that! That was my idle, arrogant tongue!”
Anne smiled, finally. How could she not?
The earl drew in his breath sharply. He had never seen a face illuminate quite as Anne's did. The moment, however, was elusive, far too fleeting for his comfort.
“True, my lord, but even idle tongues can speak the truth. I
am
unsuitable, not by virtue of my age, as you think, nor by my behaviour, which I admit is rather more erratic than I am prone to, but by simple virtue of the fact that I am an impostor in your home.”
Whatever Lord Robert Carmichael had expected, it was not this.
“Good God, woman, what kind of melodrama is this? Imposter, indeed! You are, I understand, Miss Anne Derringer?”
“None other, my lord. I am not, however, sent by Lady Markham nor had I so much as
heard
of Miss Kitty Carmichael and her oh so intriguing set of brothers before yesterday morning at the earliest.”
Robert's long, wide brows snapped together in surprise.
“No?”
“No!”
“Then, what the devil ...?”
The inelegant question was never framed. Before he could demand a more satisfactory explanation, his eyes were alighting upon a thin stick of a woman, of indeterminate years but supremely proper appearance. She wore, upon her ageing head, a turban of fur trimmed with two elegant feathers of matching hue. Brown, to an undiscerning viewer, but to high sticklers like Lady Castle-reigh, the tone would better have been described as “tawny” or “dusky gold.”
My lord, however, was not interested in the minutiae of such definitions. With a sweeping stare he regarded the straight back, the ebony cane and the high-necked gown with a polite but gentlemanly disfavour.