A Most Unusual Governess (14 page)

' - it will give rise to gossip. Ill walk back to the Grange from here.'

You don't have to.'

1 want to. Mr Haversage may spread rumours about what happened this afternoon but that doesn't mean I have to fuel them. I'm not likely to see anyone at this hour. Once I'm back in my room I can soon change my dress, and then no one will be any the wiser.'

He nodded, and as he helped her down from the curricle his admiration for her courage was plain to see.

Sarah recovered the picnic basket from the curricle and then, lifting her chin, she made her way back to the Grange.

Mr Haversage was sullen. He stood in front of Lord Randall in the latter's study like a naughty schoolboy. His hands were thrust into the pockets of his breeches and his face wore a scowl.

'Have you anything to say for yourself?' asked Lord Randall.

Mr Haversage gave an insolent shrug. 'Only that what I do in my free time is up to me - and what Miss Davenport does in her free time is up to her,' he added with a suggestive leer.

Lord Randall did not rise to the bait. He knew perfectly well that Sarah had not been a willing party to Mr Haversage's advances, and knew that the tutor was simply trying to get under his skin. It will go better for you if you don't try to blacken Miss Davenport's name,' he said evenly.

What's the matter Randall?' asked Mr Haversage. 'Can't you face the thought of the governess preferring me to you? It hurts your pride, does it, that she'd rather dally with a tutor than an earl?'

Lord Randall looked at Mr Haversage as though he was a vile insect but made no reply to the insolent question, and continued as though it had never been spoken. 'As you have nothing to say, no apology to make, then I have no choice but to dismiss you.'

Mr Haversage made a noise of disgust. What a hypocrite. Dismissing me for doing something you want to do yourself.' He gave an unpleasant smile. I've seen the way you look at her. You wouldn't mind her clothes being ripped off if it was you doing the ripping, would you?' he said with a sneer.

Lord Randall had been afraid that, if the interview turned ugly, he would be tempted to lay Mr Haversage out, but his earlier rage was now firmly under control. Everything Mr Haversage said, instead of making his blood run hotter, made it colder and colder. So that now his voice was icy as he said, Thank you, Haversage. I couldn't decide whether or not to give you a reference - your work with the boys has been adequate after all - but you have made my decision for me. You will leave Watermead Grange at once. What you do in the future is up to you. But you will have no reference to help you find another post.'

1 wouldn't want one,' Mr Haversage sneered. 1 have better things to do with my life than teaching stuck-up little brats.'

Lord Randall stood up. He towered over Mr Haversage. I suggest you leave immediately, he said, his brow darkening.

'I can't wait to go,' said Mr Haversage. He made for the door. But he could not resist turning round and making a parting shot. 'Good luck with her, Randall.'

'Get out,' said Lord Randall.

With pleasure.' Mr Haversage almost spat the words. And then, turning, he left the room, banging the door behind him.

* * * *

Although Sarah was of a naturally buoyant nature she had been upset by the incident with Mr Haversage, not least because of the way it had affected her feelings for James. No matter how many times she told herself that their closeness had been unreal, no matter how many times she told herself it had been a moment out of time, she could not forget the heat of his body or the strength of his embrace.

She was making the most of the morning by gathering a collection of flowers in the small woodland to the side of the house. She had promised Lucy she would teach her how to press wildflowers and knew that it would be easier for her to gather them now, before the guests for the house party started to arrive. Once the party began in earnest there would be guests everywhere and it would be better for her to stay in the schoolroom.

Having collected an armful of suitable specimens she made her way back to the house.

'Miss Davenport,' said Hodgess, materialising out of nowhere. 'His lordship is looking for you, miss. He would like you to join him in the ballroom.'

Sarah felt a moment of surprise and then, saying, Thank you, Hodgess,' turned her steps in that direction. She felt her heart beating faster as she walked. It was the first time she had seen Lord Randall since their intimate journey in his curricle. How should she react?

Why, the same as always came her next thought as her good sense came to her aid. It had been a temporary lapse, nothing more, and it would be best if she behaved as though nothing untoward had ever happened.

She went into the ballroom. Lord Randall was standing at the far end with the estate carpenters. Sarah felt relieved. It would be much easier to meet him in company rather than alone. In
company there would be no opportunity for the encounter to get out of hand, as all their recent encounters had seemed to do.

'Lord Randall? Hodgess said you wished to see me?'

He turned round. His black eyes lit at the sight of her. 'Beautiful,' he said.

Her heart fluttered.

The flowers,' he said, after a lengthy pause.

'Oh, yes. Yes, of course,' she said, recovering herself. I'm going to teach Lucy how to press them.'

'A good idea. Shell enjoy that, I'm sure.'

One of the carpenters cleared his throat.

'It's partly because of Lucy I asked you to join me. I'm thinking of having a temporary dais built at the end of the ballroom. I thought the children might enjoy having a stage to perform on, as they are so small that they might not be seen otherwise. What do you think of the idea?'

'I think it's a good one,' said Sarah, as she imagined it in her mind's eye. The room was a long one, with French windows giving out onto the terrace at the right. A dais at the end would raise the children nicely. Yes,' she nodded.

They won't find it intimidating?'

'No, I don't think so. They've become much more confident recently. I think they 11 find it exciting.'

'And you?'

Sarah imagined herself sitting on the dais, playing the pianoforte to accompany Lucy's singing. 1 think I might enjoy it, too,' she smiled, pleased that he had thought of her feelings. In manner he may have returned to what he had been before she was assaulted by Mr Haversage, but his protective instinct remained.

'Good.' He turned to the carpenters. 1 want it ready as soon as possible.'

Sarah took the opportunity of excusing herself and slipping out of the door. Although she had found their meeting easier than expected under the circumstances, memories of him drawing her towards him and dropping kisses on her head kept intruding and she felt it was better to be elsewhere. Now that this first meeting was over she knew she would find it easier to talk to him next time they met. But for now, she felt it was better not to overtax her self control.

She went up to the schoolroom, where Lucy, who had been getting dressed, now joined her, and the two of them began sorting the flowers. It was an enjoyable occupation and, together with pressing them and writing notes about them, took most of the day.

Lucy had just finished pressing the last one when there was a crunching sound on the gravel below. A carriage! The first of Lord Randall's guests had arrived.

'All right,' said Sarah kindly, answering Lucy's hopeful gaze, *you can go and have a look.'

Lucy flashed her a smile and then skipped over to the window, where she stood on tiptoe so that she could see out. Sarah followed her to keep an eye on her, and because she was just as interested as Lucy was in Lord Randall's guests.

From the attic window the carriage looked like a toy, and the lady who stepped out of it looked like a tiny doll, but even so, Sarah could see that her clothes were magnificent.

What a wonderful hat,' she sighed, as she watched the ostrich plumes bobbing up and down in the breeze. For a moment she was lost in her memories, thinking of the days when she, too, had gone to parties. Oh! None so grand as the party that was beginning at the Grange, but enjoyable parties for all that.

She ran her hands unconsciously over the rough, cheap muslin of the gown she was wearing now. How harsh it felt! How different from the gowns she had been used to; for although her family had not had much money, her father had always made sure she had a pretty dress or two for local balls. And how different to her rough muslin was the wonderful cambric carriage-dress of the lady who descended from the next equipage. Even from this distance Sarah could see that it was elaborately trimmed with frills, and that the lady's parasol was trimmed to match.

That's Mrs de Bracy,' said Lucy knowledgeably.

'How do you know that?' asked Sarah curiously.

'She often comes here,' confided Lucy. 'Hanson' - Hanson was Lucy's nurse - 'Hanson says she's no better than she ought to be. Then she sniffs.' Here Lucy gave a little sniff of her own, in imitation of Hanson. It was a wonderful copy, full of disdain! 'And then she says,' Lucy went on, "'But Lord Randall is a man, after all, and a man has needs".'

Sarah would have smiled at Lucy's clever impersonation of her nurse, particularly the way her voice had darkened towards the end, if the words had not come as such a shock. Lucy, of course,

had no idea what Hanson meant, but Sarah knew. In all the time she had been at Watermead Grange she had never thought about Lord Randall's life away from the Grange, and it was like cold water thrown over her face to realise that Mrs de Bracy was in all probability his mistress.

She turned away from the window.

She felt hot and sick inside. Her stomach was churning. She tried to overcome the feeling by focusing her attention on the books on her desk but she could not concentrate. She had never felt like that in her life before, but she was powerless to do anything about it.

She did not want to acknowledge the emotion, but she had no choice. It was jealousy.

Lucy was too interested in the scene unfolding before her to notice that Sarah had left her side. Another lady and two gentlemen followed the first lady out of the carriage, and then all four of them disappeared into the front door of the Grange.

Lucy watched the carriage with interest as the horseman whipped up the horses and the carriage rolled away, crunching on the gravel as it made its way round to the coach house. And no sooner had it disappeared than another took its place.

She continued to watch the guests arrive, until Sarah, mastering her emotion, called the little girl

away. *You have seen enough for now, Lucy. Let us get back to work.'

* * * *

Laughter filled the house. Gaiety and music and light abounded as Lord Randall entertained his guests. But behind his smile he was ill at ease. As the party had progressed he had become more and more irritated by Miss Leatherhead and the worst of it was that it was not her fault. She had not changed. She was still what she had been in London: meek, respectful, quiet and biddable - everything he had thought he could want from a wife. She came from an old and distinguished family; she was extremely pretty; and she would defer to him on all things at all times.

But wasn't that the fault?

She would never stand up to him, not even when he was wrong.

As he watched her talking to young Lord Tavistock at dinner one night, her golden curls gleaming in the candlelight and her blue eyes turned trustingly up to the young lord's, he realised Miss Leatherhead would be incapable of standing up to a mouse!

Why did he find that unsatisfactory? he wondered. Why did he think that a wife with the courage to stand up to him was what he wanted instead? Why did he think that marrying a young lady who would leave him untouched and unchanged would be a waste? Why did he want the challenge of animated company? Of the cut and thrust of conversation? The exchange of ideas?

The answer to that was all too obvious.

The question was, what was he going to do about it?

* * * *

The time passed in a whirl of enjoyable activities for Lord Randall's guests: archery, riding and boating by day; eating, dancing and music by night. But for Lord Randall himself the time passed rather differently. Not only did he realise with each passing day how impossible it would be for him to marry Miss Leatherhead, but he was also unsettled by the fact that he had not got any further with the Radical affair. He watched and listened, dropping discreet questions into the conversation and trying to find out which, if any, of his guests could be radicals, but so far he was not having any luck.

What a wonderful ball, Lord Randall,' called Mrs Leatherhead on the final evening, as she glided across the ballroom towards him like a galleon in full sail. She came to a stop in front of him and unfurled her enormous fan.

'Margaret thinks it is a wonderful ball, too,' she declared.

'Oh, yes,' murmured Miss Leatherhead prettily. She had been towed along in her mama's wake, and smiled sweetly up at Lord Randall.

Lord Randall made her a polite bow but his thoughts were troubled. He felt it would be wrong of him to propose to Miss Leatherhead, now that his feelings had undergone a change, but this left him in an awkward position. He had paid her a great deal of attention whilst in London for the Season and could not now draw back without damaging her reputation.