Temptation of a Governess Page 8

  ‘Pray do not be shy, my dear,’ Mrs Peters interrupted Diana’s floundering denial. ‘We should be delighted to have you join us. Mr Wollerton, would you be kind enough to set another chair for Miss Grensham here, by me? She may help me by handing round the teacups.’

  It was no longer her decision. Diana saw that it would be impossible to withdraw without seeming impolite. She sent a look towards the earl, who was standing a little apart from the rest, but his response was merely an unsmiling nod.

  ‘B-by J-Jove Miss Grensham I thought you p-played extremely well,’ exclaimed Mr Hamilton, when she handed him a cup of tea.

  ‘Miss Grensham does play well, Hamilton,’ the earl called across the room. ‘I believe she sings, too, and I know you have a fine voice, sir. Perhaps the two of you will entertain us with a duet.’

  ‘D-delighted to do so, my lord.’ Mr Hamilton beamed. ‘What do you say, Miss Grensham, shall we look for a song to suit us?’

  ‘Perhaps another time, sir.’ Diana went back to her chair, but before she could sit down Mrs Peters gave her a cup to carry to Lord Davenport. She approached him, frowning.

  ‘You flatter me, my lord,’ she said quietly. ‘I sing only with the children.’

  ‘It was not my intention to flatter you,’ he returned. ‘It was Meggie who told me how well you sing. And having heard your performance upon the harpsichord I am in no doubt that you are very musical.’

  ‘Why should that surprise you? Do you think your brother would have entrusted the children’s education to me if I had been lacking in any of the accomplishments?’

  ‘No, you told me as much at our first meeting.’ He took the proffered tea. ‘You are an oddity, Miss Grensham, you puzzle me.’

  ‘Why, because I am not afraid of you, my lord?’

  He looked disconcerted and Diana felt a little shot of satisfaction.

  ‘Is that what you think I want?’

  ‘I think it is what you expect,’ she replied, emboldened by her success in shaking him out of his complaisance. ‘The rich and powerful Lord Davenport rarely meets with opposition, in any form.’

  ‘That is hardly my fault.’

  ‘No, but it is not good for your character, sir. It makes you think you can ride roughshod over everyone.’

  She had gone far enough. The earl was frowning but for once she had the upper hand. It was a heady feeling. She waited, ready, nay, eager to continue the argument but Lady Frances interrupted them, laying a proprietorial hand upon the earl’s arm.

  ‘Alexander, are you not going to join us? Everyone is wondering what you are saying to poor Miss Grensham. I vow you look so thunderous I am in a quake.’

  ‘If anything it should be poor Lord Davenport,’ he replied with a wry grin.

  ‘Really?’

  Lady Frances did not sound very pleased, but Diana barely noticed. The earl had not taken his eyes from her and their glinting look acknowledged that she had won that encounter. A thrill of triumph ran through her, an elation that was not dimmed even when Lady Frances removed the cup and saucer from the earl and thrust it back at Diana before leading him away.

  Diana regarded the half-empty cup in her hands. There was no doubting that Lady Frances considered her little more than a servant, but tonight she did not feel intimidated. She took her seat again beside Mrs Peters and listened to the conversation as it ebbed and flowed around her. A lively discussion developed between Mr Hamilton and Lady Frances about a scandalous play they had both seen recently. When Miss Prentiss asked about its content Mr Hamilton began to describe the play to her in all its salacious detail. Lady Frances tapped his arm with her fan.

  ‘Have a care, sir, you will embarrass the governess.’

  ‘I am not so easily shocked,’ Diana responded, in no way discomposed. ‘And I confess I have a fondness for the theatre.’

  ‘I doubt you have had much opportunity to indulge in such pleasures,’ remarked Mrs Peters.

  ‘Not recently, but when my sister was alive I accompanied her regularly to the theatre.’

  ‘Improving works, no doubt,’ put in Lady Frances, the faintest curl to her lip.

  ‘Not always. The performances varied enormously but I was always looking out for those that might be suitable for the children.’ Diana’s smile grew when she saw the surprise upon the faces turned towards her. ‘The theatre can be very educational,’ she informed them. ‘I am a great believer in introducing children to the theatre at an early age. I took them to town to see one of Shakespeare’s comedies, although I think they preferred the ballet that was staged between the performances, and of course the pantomime. They could talk of little else for days afterwards.’

  The earl had come closer as she was speaking and now he said gruffly, ‘You dragged the children to Drury Lane and back? I would have thought any benefit they might have gained would have been wiped out by their fatigue.’

  ‘And so it would, my lord. That is why we put up in an hotel for the night. The girls thought it a high treat, I can tell you, and we were back at Chantreys before noon the following day.’ She added with a hint of laughter in her voice, ‘That is one of the advantages of being placed so near the capital.’

  He regarded her through narrowed eyes.

  ‘Touché, Miss Grensham, you have made your point.’

  The earl spoke so quietly only Diana heard him. She looked away immediately, but she knew he would not miss the little smile of triumph that played about her mouth.

  ‘Well, I must say, I have never heard of such a thing before,’ declared Lady Frances. ‘A governess taking her charges to the theatre. Quite, quite novel.’

  Diana was still revelling in her victory over the earl and she was not at all daunted by the gentle malice in the lady’s tone.

  ‘You must remember, ma’am, that I am Lady Margaret’s aunt and guardian to both girls. I also know my sister thought such visits could be beneficial.’

  ‘Well, I wish I had had such a governess as you, Miss Grensham,’ put in Miss Prentiss with her braying laugh. ‘It sounds all high days and holidays for the children.’

  ‘Not at all. They work very diligently most of the time.’

  ‘But, forgive me...’ Lady Frances approached, the icy glitter in her blue eyes at variance with her honeyed tones ‘...you are very young to have responsibility for Lady Margaret and Miss Arrandale. Surely you cannot teach them everything they need. Lord Davenport will tell you that an accomplished young lady requires more than mere book learning. A good school would surely be the best solution for them, there they would have masters to teach them.’

  For herself, Diana might have shrunk away from the lady’s patronising tone, but she was here as guardian to two little girls and that gave her the confidence to disagree.

  ‘I beg to differ, Lady Frances, but the very best masters are all in London.’ Diana’s eyes flickered again to the earl. ‘That is why I shall keep the children here at Chantreys, that they may have access to them.’

  Anger flashed across the lady’s face but Mr Hamilton was already moving the conversation on and Diana sat back in her chair, content to return to the role of passive listener. She had made her point, won the argument and she felt a small but satisfying sense of triumph.

  * * *

  The party broke up soon after as the exertions of the day caught up with everyone. Miss Prentiss was openly yawning and declared her intention to retire. Diana decided that she, too, had had enough and made her escape. Lord Davenport reached the door before her and held it open.

  ‘I know your game, Miss Grensham,’ he murmured as she passed him. ‘You think your arguments in favour of remaining at Chantreys are convincing, but do not think you have won, madam. I am still determined that you will leave here. But I am also determined that the move will be in no wise detrimental to Meggie and Florence.’


  She stopped.

  ‘What makes you think you know what is best for them?’ she challenged him. ‘You have absolutely no experience of children.’

  ‘Of course I have. I...’ He paused and she waited. His hard eyes gleamed and she saw the smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. ‘I was one, once, you know.’

  For the life of her Diana could not hold back a gurgle of laughter, quickly stifled.

  ‘I find that very hard to believe, my lord,’ she murmured as she whisked herself out of the room and ran up the stairs, still chuckling.

  Chapter Six

  Diana could not sleep, her head, her whole body was buzzing with excitement. She was unused to conversing so much with adults and she had to admit she had enjoyed it, even the barbed comments of Lady Frances had not wounded her. It had still been something of an ordeal, not only because she felt awkward and ungainly every time she walked, but she had been painfully aware of the earl’s presence. He had made little effort to include her in the conversation and when they had spoken it had only been to disagree. And yet... He had not patronised her and there had been a sizzle of excitement at being able to talk and debate with him as an equal.

  She paced her bedroom floor, so full of pent-up energy that she felt she might burst. It was frustrating to have so many people in the house. Before, on the rare occasions when she could not sleep, she had wandered the rooms at will, but now she was afraid even to potter in the schoolroom for fear that the creaking floorboards would disturb the guests sleeping below.

  The day had been unseasonably warm and her room was hot and airless. She threw open the window and leaned on the sill. A full moon was riding high above the park and gardens, bathing everything in a silvery-blue light. Everything was still, like a painted stage, waiting for the actors to make it their own. Suddenly Diana knew what she wanted to do. Five minutes later she was creeping down the back stairs, a dark woollen cloak covering her nightgown.

  * * *

  It was no good, after tossing and turning for what seemed like half the night Alex threw off the bedcovers and sat up. He pushed back the hangings and blinked a little as the moonlight flooded over him. He was wide awake and restless. He recalled Frances’s invitation. He could still go to her room, he knew she would welcome him whatever time of the night he should arrive, but the idea did not appeal. He lay back down and put his hands behind his head, wondering why it was that he suddenly found the widow less attractive.

  There was no doubt that Lady Frances Betsford was beautiful, clever and accomplished and she wanted to be a countess. Why should she not? She was the daughter of a peer and would fill the role well, he had no doubt. The fact that she had had several lovers over the years had never worried Alex, yet now he was aware of a growing reluctance to make her an offer.

  Why should that be, when Frances was so perfectly suited to the position? He knew it behoved him to marry at some point and beget an heir but he would not do so when society said he should, hence his intention to hold such an outrageous party that he would shock his world. But one day he must make his choice and why not Frances? He ran over all the things he required in a wife. Until recently he would have said that birth, breeding and beauty were sufficient, but now he knew he wanted something more. Just when he had changed his mind he knew not, but now he was convinced that there must be affection, too. His wife should love him for himself, not for his title.

  ‘You are aiming too high,’ he told himself, staring up at the inky black shadows above him. ‘There is not such a woman in England. Go back to your original plan. Find an agreeable beauty for your consort. Someone who will not cut up your peace.’

  With a sigh he slid off the bed and went to the window. The still, night-time scene beckoned him. Acres of land and no one out there to enjoy it. He resisted at first, but the insidious little voice in his head kept asking, why not? The full moon made it light enough to see and a walk might clear his head. Ten minutes later he was dressed and striding across the open park.

  * * *

  It did not take Diana long to reach the woods. She took a slightly circuitous route through the gardens, following a little-used path in the shadow of the high hedges, in case some other sleepless soul might be looking out of their window. Once she reached the park she headed for the thick belt of trees that stretched off to the east of the house, finally joining with the extensive woodland that bordered the estate. The branches overhead were not yet in full leaf and the moonlight filtered through, dappling the ground and giving ample light for her to see her way. At last the trees thinned and she could see the glassy surface of the lake ahead of her. She stopped, listening. The distant scream of a fox did not worry her, or the mournful cry of an owl. The lake was black and still, smooth as glass with the moon reflected perfectly at its centre. Nothing stirred. She was quite alone.

  The rising ground and thick woods that surrounded the water had trapped the warmth of the day and Diana did not hesitate. She slipped off her cloak and nightgown and ran, naked, to the edge of the lake. She had been here many times before over the years and knew that this southern end of the lake was the deepest. That was the reason a small wooden landing stage had been built here. She took a breath, ran out along the jetty and jumped into the water.

  The shock of the cold water forced a little cry from her lips before she sank down into the still depths of the lake. Silky fronds of weeds brushed her ankles and she felt the bottom beneath her feet. It was soft and muddy, but firm enough for her to push upwards again, arms above her head as she surfaced, turning up her laughing, gasping face to the moon before slipping back beneath the water. For the first time in a week she felt perfectly free.

  * * *

  Alex walked briskly and soon the house was out of sight. He began to relax, remembering the times he and James had spent here as boys. Only two years had separated him and his brother and they had been close in those far-off days. They had moved in different circles at school, but had always spent their holidays together at Chantreys. There was plenty to amuse them, the woods for hunting and climbing and they could swim or fish in the lake. By the time James went to Oxford, Alex’s interests lay in more physical pursuits. James married early and settled down to his responsibilities, while the inheritance from his godfather allowed Alex to live in town and indulge his interest in sports and his taste for collecting beautiful works of art.

  Over the past few years they had led very different lives, but the news of James’s death had affected Alex profoundly. Outwardly he had gone on much as before, but his grief at the loss of his brother was deep and sincere. It was only now, six months after he had first heard the news, that Alex could remember their shared childhood without too much pain. Walking alone through the still, moonlit landscape, Alex found he could at last take comfort from the memories of the happy times he and James had spent at Chantreys.

  A wall of trees rose before him, dark and shadowed, and he knew he had reached the edge of the park. He should turn back, but rather than retrace his steps he struck off at an angle, deciding to prolong the walk a little longer and return by the path that ran past the lake. His eyes soon grew accustomed to the gloomy shadows of the woods. Nothing was stirring and there was silence save for the occasional call of some night creature and his own soft footsteps. A glint of silver sparkled through the trees. He was nearing the lake’s edge.

  At that moment he heard simultaneously a cry and a splash and he emerged from the trees to see the mirrored surface of the lake shattered. As he watched he saw one white arm emerge from the water, scattering diamond droplets. Another arm followed, then, briefly, a head and shoulders, then there was gasp and the body disappeared again beneath the water.

  ‘What the—?’

  Alex ran towards the lake, stripping off his coat as he went.

  That brief glimpse of a shapely arm had been sufficient to tell him the figure was a
female, but as the naked torso rose up, gleaming silver in the moonlight, he had had a perfect view of the creature’s face and had recognised her instantly. Diana. He reached the landing and it was the work of a moment to remove his boots and dive cleanly into the water. Immediately he struck out for the place where she had disappeared.

  * * *

  Diana’s feet touched the weed-cushioned bottom of the lake and she remained there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of weightlessness, but as she made to rise again she was buffeted by something large and powerful that forced the air from her lungs. In a panic she struggled as childhood fears of monsters and serpents invaded her imagination. She was gripped by strong arms and hauled upwards. As she emerged from the water, coughing and spluttering, she heard a deep voice commanding her to keep still.

  ‘Don’t struggle, I’ve got you,’

  ‘Let me go!’ She tried to prise herself free. ‘Let me go,’ she cried again, ‘I don’t need rescuing. I can swim!’

  The vice-like grip eased, just a little, and she turned to face her assailant. She knew who it was, of course. There could be no mistaking that harsh voice, but it was still a shock to find herself only inches away from Lord Davenport, his white shirt clinging to his shoulders and gleaming like pewter in the moonlight. He gave a sudden toss of his head, to fling his wet hair from his eyes.

  ‘Then prove it,’ he said grimly. ‘Get yourself out of the water. Now.’

  Diana needed no second bidding. She struck out for the bank, heading for the spot where she had left her clothes. She felt angry and foolish at being caught out by the earl, that he should have come upon her naked, but it was impossible to swim in a gown. However, she felt sure she could acquit the earl of any amorous intentions towards her. Clearly he had thought she was drowning and when he had discovered that was not the case he had sounded quite furious.

  Diana did not attempt to pull herself on to the jetty but found a spot on the bank where the plants were at their tallest and scrambled up between them, hoping they would give her some modicum of protection while she hurriedly donned her nightgown without making any attempt to dry herself.