To Tempt an Earl (34 page)

It must have been a severe blow for her to
discover the future she'd anticipated was no longer available to
her. It was part of his business, delivery of unwelcome news.
However the young woman was taking it all in with such grace and
poise, it caused him to greatly respect the young woman. Pity
pinched his heart. Unaccustomed to any emotional response when
dealing with his clients, he fidgeted with his spectacles "I'm sure
you'd like a moment…" He stood to leave, offering her a moment to
gather herself in private.

"No, please." Her green eyes widened as she
visibly swallowed. "I need to understand the full depth of my
change in situation. Please…continue." She took a deep breath as if
fortifying herself.

"Very well, Miss Standhope." He nodded then
resumed his seat. "As I know you're aware, upon you parents passing
several years ago, the substantial inheritance they left for you
was primarily invested overseas, in the Caribbean. The interest
from that investment has been what you've lived on these past
years. I'm sorry to say that with the recent tropical cyclone, the
investment in the Caribbean was a total loss."

"Total, as in I'm penniless, or total as in
I'll still have enough food to eat and won't be turned out of my
own home?" she asked her voice cracking.

"Garden Gate is entailed, so you'll not lose
the manor or lands, but you'll also not have any funds to maintain
their upkeep."

"So, it's as good as being completely
penniless."

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"I see." Her slight shoulders slumped as if
carrying a burden to heavy to bear.

"However, you could possibly lease the land
and manor out, not requiring you to sell. That could produce some
revenue."

"That could work. But what, then, of me? What
am I to do?" Tears welled, glistening in her eyes and, though none
fell, her green orbs took on the luminosity of glowing emeralds.
Captivated by her venerable gaze, Mr. Burrows struggled to find
some good news to give the poor young woman.

"I'm not sure, Miss Standhope. Do you have
relatives you can impose upon?"

"None that I'm aware of."

He leaned back against the chair and a
thought tickled his mind. Studying her one more, he nodded. Perhaps
he did have some promising news to offer after all.

"I see. Are you…are you perhaps willing to
consider employment?"

Carlotta stiffened at the idea of employment.
Her father hadn't been a high-ranking earl or marquis, but even as
a baron, he had impressed upon his daughter the place and position
of the titled. It chafed to think of working, of becoming a
bluestocking, but she saw no other options available.

She was rather fond of having food to eat and
didn't plan on starving to death.

"I'm willing—" Carlotta swallowed and drew a
breath to compose herself. "I'm willing to seek employment." She
folded her hands in her lap, clutching them tightly.

"A governess or companion position would be
quite suitable, I'd imagine."

"Governess, yes. I could do quite well in
that position. I'm well educated, you know." Carlotta's mind began
to spin with possibilities. Being a governess wouldn't be half bad.
She could do it, she was certain.

She could hear her own heartbeat, its
pounding cadence reminded her that she was, indeed, alive when she
felt like she had shriveled up and died. To think, only hours
before she had been planning her wardrobe for the season and
daydreaming about her first kiss.

None of it was to be. None. In the span of
ten minutes, her entire world had come crashing down upon her,
leaving nothing but rubble.

"If you don't mind," said Mr. Burrows as he
took off his spectacles and leaned forward slightly, his balding
head shining, "I have a client who might be interested in hiring
you. If you wish, I'll make arrangements for an interview."

Could she do it? Work? Leave behind all she
knew? Carlotta glanced about the parlor, studying the tall windows
that overlooked the small gardens. It wasn't grand, but it was
home. And if she took a position as governess, she'd be leaving it
all behind to a stranger. But what choice did she have?

"Thank you, Mr. Burrows. I'd appreciate the
opportunity."

Charles Evermore, Duke of Clairmont

Carlotta studied the card and swallowed a
lump of fear that lodged itself in her throat. Of course, she would
be interviewing for a position in the devil's lair. That was
precisely the kind of luck she was having recently. Not only had
her trunks fallen off the carriage on her way to London, resulting
in all of her clothes being muddied and some torn, but also, she
had caught a chill. Thank heavens she'd been able to secure some
elderberry tea. But regardless, the resulting sniffle wasn't proper
governess behavior at all. It would be a miracle for her to get
this position, but as she studied the name on the card sent from
Mr. Burrows, she wondered if maybe God was protecting her. Surely,
there were other positions that didn't involve bargaining the
devil.

It was well known among the
ton
and
those who gossiped about them, that the Duke of Clairmont was not
the type of man to cross. Although deliciously handsome —at least
that's what the rumor said— he had a reputation that boasted his
arrogant nature and intolerance for women beyond their company in
his bedroom —or their bedroom, for that matter. Carlotta's cheeks
heated with a blush at simply thinking those words. True, he could
have his pick of any of the season's Incomparables, but he wasn't
marriage minded. At least not yet. His hair was as dark as sin with
eyes that were the color of a summer sky. His tall and powerful
frame exuded power and dominance, shrinking down all other men in
the room. Of course, one could not always believe the gossip.

Especially when it said he had kept no fewer
than a dozen mistresses at one time. Certainly,
that
was
exaggerated. Nevertheless, the stories about the handsome duke
abounded and grew to mammoth proportions. Which was why Carlotta
had to summon all her courage to walk up the steps to his home.

The one question that remained quite a
mystery was why the duke needed a governess at all. It was well
known he was a confirmed bachelor. Could he have a brood of
children born on the wrong side of the blanket? Carlotta highly
doubted it. After all, based on the gossip, he didn't seem like the
doting father type. No, with his reputation, he'd toss the poor
woman unfortunate enough to have gotten pregnant, into the streets.
Yes, his soul was a black as his hair. Of course, having never seen
the duke in person, Carlotta could only imagine how dark his hair
really was.

She walked to the door and knocked, willing
her racing heartbeat to slow its galloping pulse.

"Yes?" an aged butler inquired.

"Miss Carlotta Standhope. I'm here to
interview for the governess position. I'm here on Mr. Burrows'
recommendation," she spoke her practiced words.

"Yes. Wait a moment." The butler left her on
the doorstep but returned less than a minute later.

"Mrs. Pott will be conducting your interview
in the parlor. If you'll follow me."

Carlotta tried not to appear too curious as
she studied the bachelor lodgings of one of the most notorious
rakes of the
ton.
Dark woods covered the walls and rich rugs
softened the floors. It was pristine and clean yet dark and
brooding all at once. As she glanced about, she decided it had to
be from the lack of light. For it being daylight outside, it was
quite dark inside.

The butler opened a door that was already
slightly ajar and waited for Carlotta to enter. As she did, a plump
woman no younger than sixty years greeted her. She was cheery, her
cheeks rosy and her smile warm. Carlotta felt a bit more at
ease.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Standhope. You
come on excellent recommendation," the woman greeted warmly.

"Thank you."

"Where are my manners? Forgive me, darling.
I'm Mrs. Pott, his grace's housekeeper. You'll have to excuse me.
I'm not accustomed to interviewing governesses. Please, come and
sit. Let's have us a chat, shall we?" She gestured to a chair
opposite her and Carlotta sat.

"Murray? Would you please have tea brought
up?"

The butler nodded and disappeared.

"Now then, why don't we begin with you
telling a bit about yourself, Miss Standhope."

"I'm nineteen this year, Mrs. Pott, and well
versed in Latin, French as well as classic literature, mathematics
and some of the more popular sciences. I studied under my own tutor
until recent circumstances required me to seek my own employment."
Carlotta held her breath, hoping the words she'd rehearsed were
neither too rushed nor divulged too much information on her current
straits.

"I see. You're quite the educated woman it
seems." Mrs. Pott nodded.

"Thank you."

"Now then, have you experience in how to
conduct one-self in social situations? The duke has become the
guardian of three young women, all in need of guidance not only in
their formal education but in other social graces."

"Yes, I'm able to guide them in the various
social situations they'll likely encounter being associated with
his grace," Carlotta responded confidently.

"Lovely. His grace plans on moving the girls
to his country estate in Bath. Do you have any connections that
would prohibit your moving from London?"

"No." Yet her heart pinched. Bath was awfully
close to Garden Gate. What miserable torture to be so near one's
home yet so completely away at the same time!

"Delightful. Then, Miss Standhope, I'm
extending the offer of employment to you, should you wish to
accept. You seem very well suited for the position and with such a
glowing recommendation, I'd be daft to not welcome you to his
grace's staff."

"Thank you, Mrs. Pott. I humbly accept."
Carlotta barely resisted the urge to let out a huge sigh of relief.
That had certainly been much easier than she had anticipated.

"Now then, that's settled. We'll have us a
spot of tea and then I'll take you to meet your charges. They are
currently staying here, but will be traveling shortly. I'm assuming
you'll need to quit your current lodgings as well?"

"Yes, it shan't take long."

"No need to worry. I'll have Murray task
someone with fetching your belongings and ensuring your account is
settled."

"Oh, there's not need, I can—"

"Of course there's a need my dear. You'll
find that, being in the duke's employ that, while his reputation is
less than above reproach, he is generous and kind to those he
employs. I'm quite sure he'd be put out if I did any less for you,
my dear."

"Well, thank you." Carlotta tried to be
gracious but all she could think of was the sorry state of most of
her clothing due to the muddy descent from the carriage. Hopefully,
whoever collected her belongings wouldn't look
too
closely.

Emma has sworn off love.

After all, it is pointless to subject oneself
to such torture when in the end, heartbreak is inevitable. Just
like her sister had suffered. So, when Lord Daventry, the muddy
brown-eyed boy from her childhood, returns to society she refuses
to even look at him… well, maybe she'll look once.

Or twice.

But only because his eyes have changed into
the most decadent color of dark chocolate. And his tanned skin from
his travels is distracting, especially paired with his wide and
devilish grin.

The stirring of her blood from his hot
whisper in her ear is nothing… at least that's what she tells
herself.

Lord Daventry has one response to marriage.
Drink Brandy. Especially when his mother decides it is time for him
to produce an heir. Reluctantly, he attends his first ball since
returning from India, swearing to head to White's shortly after the
first dance. However, he is pleasantly surprised to discover that
Miss Emma Kingsly, the same girl he tried to kiss when she was
nine, is still unmarried.