The Mysterious Governess (Daughters of Sin Book 3) (20 page)

“What are you about, Miss Hazlett?”

Lissa turned as Mrs. Lamont arrived in the schoolroom, wheezing after her battle with the stairs. “You’re wearing Miss Maria’s new gown. How can you imagine you’ll deport yourself at the same entertainment tonight as the young lady of the household? That dress was delivered to this house, meaning it was intended for my Maria.”

“No, it was a gift.” Lissa was on the point of producing the card that had accompanied it when she remembered its reference to her friendship with Ralph.

“I don’t think so, Miss Hazlett. And I suggest you remember your place. You will be looking after the girls, in the schoolroom, where you belong. Miss Maria has now been accepted into the ranks of the fashionable, and with her charming face and figure, she will make a fine match.”

She put a proprietorial arm about her daughter’s shoulders. “Indeed you will, my dear.”

Mrs. Lamont turned to Lissa. “Miss Hazlett, take off that dress immediately and change into something suitable for walking. I want you to take Harriet and Nellie for some fresh air as soon as you’re ready. Leave the gown on the bed for Maria to take back to her bedchamber.”

***

W
hat could she do? Lissa wandered the pavements with a small girl’s hand in each of hers. Miss Maria was a usurper but Mrs. Lamont had complete power as her employer.

Of course, Lissa could not have imagined she could keep up this double life. She could not further her friendship with Ralph. Their love was doomed. She missed him greatly, and several days seemed such a long time. Perhaps she’d never see him again. She wondered what he was doing and if he’d be at the soiree tonight.

The little girls tugged at her hand. Lissa had been requested to make it a quick walk as nursery tea was nearly upon them but the girls were keen to go into the park.

Why not? The longer she was away from the Lamont household the happier she’d be.

They were all crossing the road when she recognized Lord Debenham’s valet, Jem, limping toward her. After sending the girls ahead through the gates, she turned to greet him and was struck by the crooked twist to his once-perfect nose and the number of purple and yellow bruises, now fading, across his cheek.

“Good day to you, Miss Hazlett. You look well. What of your friend, Miss Partington? Me master, Lord Debenham—as you well know—were speakin’ of her only the uvver day.”

“Indeed?” Lissa glanced across to ensure the little girls were behaving themselves. They were sitting on the grass and playing with what looked like a fallen bird’s nest. She returned her attention to Jem. There was something meaningful in the way he couched his words.

He lifted his cap to run his hands through his corn-colored hair and Lissa was struck by the jagged scar that sliced his scalp, as if someone had taken a sword to his head. Had Jem suffered
so
badly for his involvement in the letter, which Araminta had used to try to blackmail Sir Aubrey into marriage before she’d burned it?

“Strange coincidence, then, that me sweetheart, Jane, what’s maid to your friend Miss Partington, told me sumfink interesting about a dress wot she says Miss Partington sent to you this afternoon.”

“Well, it seems everyone knows everyone’s business,” Lissa remarked, ready to move on. The fact that she wasn’t going to be wearing the dress after all was hard to take with fortitude. She didn’t need Jem to be crowing over his superior knowledge of her life.

“You can sound haughty, Miss, and I don’t care a scrap. But as there were summat shady going to be taking place tonight, I thought you might jest consider it worth a shilling for me to warn you.”

Lissa’s mouth dropped open. “Are you...” She stopped, horrified. “Is this blackmail?”

“Dunno, Miss. I didn’t reckon you ’ad secrets like that Miss Partington, but if you do, then maybe it’s blackmail, or maybe it’s jest that your friend has plans you don’t know about yet, but that it might be worth two shillings to ’ave forewarning of.” He took a deep breath.  “That’s if you gets me meaning.”

“Miss Partington wouldn’t wish me harm.” Lissa tried to sound dignified. “I’ve been too...” She’d been going to say “helpful” before deciding “useful” was a more apt word.

“Well, if that were in the past only you weren’t useful now, I wouldn’t be too confident of her loyalty, miss. There ain’t no loyalty amongst rogues and thieves, I can tell you.”

“How dare you be so insulting?” She felt suddenly angry toward Jem, highly indignant that an inferior would speak like that, though it was true she was mistrustful of her half-sister.

Jem looked at her expectantly. “Well, Miss?”

“I don’t have any money with me,” she said tightly. “And if it’s something I really should know about, then a gentleman would tell me.”

Jem shrugged then gave a half grin. “You’re right, Miss Hazlett. Tell yer wot. I’ll do you a favor and I won’t ask fer no money. Jest don’t wear the green dress and yer’ll be right as rain, no tales told and no one in any tricky situations.”

He offered her a quick bow and strode off, quickly turning the corner and disappearing before Lissa could catch up with him to call him back.

Hurriedly she collected the little girls and walked them home, just as Miss Maria appeared on the stairs dressed in the embroidered green dress, her dark hair elaborately coiffured, her mother’s jewelry adorning her throat.

“Ah, Miss Hazlett, Mama will be glad to see you back.” She sounded very grand and grown up as she tugged at her mauve elbow-length gloves. “She’s cross that you’ve made the girls late for nursery tea. I placated her.”

Offering Lissa an overindulgent smile, she took another step down the stairs. “I was going to wear my oyster sarsnet but this is far superior, don’t you think? I’m sorry you thought it was for you—”

“Miss Maria, you cannot wear that gown tonight.”

Miss Maria sent her a mutinous look before she clearly chose to her ignore her. “Do you not think this could have been made for me? Clearly it was,” she said, airily.

“But it was
not
, and Miss Maria, I fear there’s trouble brewing. I don’t know what, but I believe it would be unwise if you...insisted on wearing it.”

“Is that a threat?” Miss Maria looked ugly when she was crossed. “Ah, Cosmo, the governess insists I cannot wear this dress to attend Lady Grenville’s soiree. That trouble is brewing, she says.” She gave a simpering laugh as she turned to look over her shoulder at her brother, who had just started down the stairs. “Should I trust her?”

Lissa, who hadn’t exactly expected support, despite Cosmo’s reliance upon her artistic talents, was, nevertheless, taken aback by his vituperative look.

“As much as you should trust a fox to look after your ducklings,” he said in a low voice, passing close enough to hiss in Lissa’s ear, “Mr. Crossing, who has made no mention of the work I delivered until I chanced to meet him in the street, told me he was delighted by the sketch. Delighted!”

His nostrils twitched and Lissa faltered at the vitriol in his voice as he added, “So delighted, there was no suggestion of an added payment for further investigative sketching. For more than a week I’ve tried to contact him. Now, finally, it’s to hear that never was there a happier husband to have received proof that his wife had not been lying to him. Yes, the
redheaded
gentleman in the picture was apparently his wife’s
brother
!”

He extended his hand as if he were going to pinch Lissa’s shoulder then drew back at the last minute at the sound of his mother calling to her children, and her footsteps sounding louder in the corridor.

“Maria, there you are, and what a picture you look! Cosmo, are you ready to escort your sister? Miss Hazlett, you should be in the nursery looking after the children.”

Lissa decided it would be futile to reiterate her concern over Miss Maria’s insistence on wearing a gown that was apparently going to cause ructions.

Perhaps Jem had been lying in the hopes of earning a couple of shillings, though Lissa doubted it, and as soon as she reached the schoolroom, she promptly dispatched a note to Ralph, outlining as briefly as she could Jem’s warning.

All evening she worked restlessly at her mending after Clara had put the children to bed. She’d hoped Ralph might respond but he didn’t. When the clock struck eleven she realized he would not.

Despondent, she went to bed.

***

A
raminta needed something hopeful to concentrate upon, otherwise she would go quite insane. The idea that she, Araminta Partington, could possibly have found herself in the unfortunate position she had was unthinkable. More than she could bear, in fact, and right at this moment, she’d never hated Hetty so much.

It was her sister’s fault that Araminta was...

She couldn’t even put it into words. No debutante could afford to be in such an intolerable situation, which meant Araminta simply had to swap her status as debutante for respectably married woman. And all within a couple of short weeks. Yes, that was apparently the time frame she was looking at, according to Jane, whom she’d taken into her confidence only because Jane knew everything there was to know about such things, and she could offer advice. Araminta had not the first idea about matters like this.

All she knew was that she had to put a wedding band on her left hand within a timely four weeks of the unfortunate incident that had precipitated this disaster.

That left her with a frighteningly short window of opportunity but Araminta felt confident of ultimate success. She had to. If she couldn’t quite get the wedding band slipped onto her finger, then she had to orchestrate a situation in which what had happened with Sir Aubrey, also happened with the man who would soon be her husband.

That, of course, would be Lord Ludbridge.

The arrival of a dress that had been made for the treacherous Hetty—who no longer needed it, because she’d eloped—had, at first, enraged her. It was only as she’d paced her bedchamber, running her hands up and down her stomach and willing whatever was in there to miraculously disappear, that inspiration had struck. The painful reminder of past disappointments could in fact work to her advantage. All that was needed were a few artful tugs of the strings in the background.

To this end, while mingling with the throng at Lady Grenville’s soiree, meekly and quietly at her chaperone, Mrs. Monks’ side, she gained the attention of one of the waiters and handed him the folded note she had prepared back at home.

“Deliver this to that young lady in green that you see in the far corner by the window,” she told him, pointing to a distant figure half obscured by the throng. The cut of her evening dress with its red sash was entirely distinctive. “The lady with the dark hair.”

Within moments, she’d dispatched a second message via another waiter, this time to Lord Debenham.

Turning back around, she received a jolt of surprise and delight to see Lord Ludbridge appear before her. He looked so boyishly pleased that she was here this evening, and immediately began to compliment her on her gown until she giggled and tapped him on the shoulder with her fan.

“You’ll quite turn my head,” she told him. “And unless you plan to give me ideas you have no intention of giving me, you’d better stop now.”

Instantly he sobered, and took her hand to give it a brief squeeze before he dropped it with a look of embarrassment as he glanced about the room. “Then I won’t stop. Will you walk with me in the garden? There are lanterns along all the paths and we won’t be alone. Ask Mrs. Monks. I’m sure she’ll agree.”

Araminta quickly gained her chaperone’s assent and happily placed her gloved hand in the crook of Lord Ludbridge’s arm. Half an hour in the garden alone with the handsome viscount sounded almost too good to be true. He would tell her how much he admired her and make her feel happy, like she deserved, not frightened and wretched. And as long as she ensured Lord Ludbridge was in the library at 11 p.m. at least one of the complications in her life might be eliminated.

***

R
alph, meanwhile, was madly trying to find clean, fresh linen in which to present himself at the entertainment he’d had no intention of attending until five minutes before. The invitation would have been irresistible, had he known Miss Hazlett would be there, but he’d sadly faced the fact that London’s social whirl would always remain on the perimeter of the real drudgery of their lives.

Ralph had to work for his living, and long days performing often unpleasant tasks left him with little energy, although this might have been different had he been remunerated sufficiently. He often imagined taking the divine Miss Hazlett on lazy boating trips upon the river, or surprising her with presents that would elicit such bursts of excited gratitude that he’d feel her smooth young arms twine impulsively about his neck.

Of course, that would be a very dangerous thing. He realized that the more he had to do with her, the greater his susceptibility to falling completely and irrevocably in love. This would make his daily toil even worse, due to the added torment of knowing how impossible it was for them to be together.

But the hasty, last-minute request from his beloved Lissa was impossible to refuse.  She’d assumed he would be attending Lady Grenville’s soiree and had asked simply for him to keep in his sights a young lady in a green dress with a red sash embroidered with flowers.

The message had been short and cryptic. Perhaps she was someone whom her dreadful employer had been asked to sketch. Ralph had no idea who this young lady was, but if Lissa had asked him to discreetly follow her, he would not fail in the enterprise. She would have a very good reason for asking him anything, he knew.

Having finally found linen, clean and crisp enough to do service tonight without declaring him the pauper he was, Ralph was admitted into the midst of the well-dressed throng—where he was immediately confronted with a dark-haired young lady in a green gown embroidered with flowers, the very description Lissa had given him.

Why, he wondered, had Lissa not said it was Miss Maria she wished him to keep within his sights? And there was her brother, Master Cosmo looking the Pinkest of the Pinks with his fashionably tight-fitting trousers, high pointed collar and Titus coiffure. Ralph ran his fingers thoughtfully through his own thatch of hair and immediately dismissed the idea of attempting something the least bit fashionable with it. He’d never aspired to the dandy set, or even desired to be a Nonesuch like his brother.