Elizabeth Beacon - The Governess Heiress

How unworthy of him to envy the girl and wish he was enjoying all that warmth and welcome. Miss Court was a lady and he certainly wasn’t a land steward. He hadn’t even met the woman in the clear light of day, he reminded himself hastily and if this was what pretending to be Moss did to him, he might have to reconsider the plum she’d handed him when she’d made that hasty assumption about who he was. He could have been anyone, he condemned her with a frown it was as well she couldn’t see. Who knew what sort of rogue could be stumbling about in the dark silently lusting after her if he hadn’t found her first?

‘Thank you, but I do wish Mama hadn’t died, Miss Court. There’s nobody left to love me,’ Lavinia confessed in a whisper and reminded him they had a very effective chaperon and Miss Court had only ever seen him as an extra pair of eyes and ears to help her find her charge.

* * *

Nell knew how it felt to be lonely, but at least her brother had always loved her, however determined their eldest uncle might be to keep them apart. ‘All the wishing in the world won’t bring her back, I fear,’ she said gently, ‘but soon you’ll be able to show the world how a true Selford lady behaves and what a shame to waste it on the first callow youth to pluck up the courage to ask you to wed him.’

‘Heaven forbid,’ Nell thought she heard muttered with heartfelt sincerity by the annoying man behind her. She turned around with Lavinia in her arms and the silence that met her glare was so innocent she knew she’d heard aright.

‘Who are you?’ Lavinia demanded and Nell didn’t correct her manners for once because he didn’t deserve any better.

‘Miss Court will tell you I’m the new land steward,’ he said in the lazy drawl that made Nell’s palms itch.

‘And are you?’

‘So it would seem.’

‘You are a very odd person if you need someone to tell you who you are, isn’t he, Miss Court?’

‘Mr Moss seems quite deaf, the poor gentleman. He certainly takes no notice of anything I say.’

‘You don’t look very old, sir,’ Lavinia observed sagely.

Nell had to argue with herself before she corrected her gently. ‘Remember what I said about it being impolite to make comments on the odd behaviour of others, Lavinia?’ she said, but Mr Moss saved the girl an apology Nell hadn’t quite demanded.

‘I could lie and say I’m a mere stripling of five and fifty, I suppose, but it’s hard enough being Methuselah without making things any worse, Miss Lavinia,’ the rogue said with such self-mocking laughter in his voice Nell wanted to smile, briefly.

‘Now you’re teasing me, sir, and, as you don’t seem offended by what Miss Court insists are my bad manners, are you telling the truth about yourself?’

‘Oh, I never do that,’ the new land steward said brazenly. ‘If you choose to believe me, I’ll admit to being one and thirty, Miss Lavinia. If you don’t; I’m five years less because even we gentlemen have our vanity.’

‘Since he has confessed to being a work of fiction, maybe we should add five years to the total and make Mr Moss quite an elderly young gentleman instead, Lavinia,’ Nell said lightly, wishing he could see her best frown through the gloom. She wondered how he managed to irritate her so much when they’d only just met; it was a special gift, she decided, one she was glad most men didn’t share.

‘You have my sympathy, Miss Lavinia. Your governess makes me feel like a small boy with a dirty neck and I thought I was grown up until we met.’

‘Miss Court is a wonderful governess and a very kind person, Mr Moss,’ Lavinia surprised all three of them by saying earnestly.

‘Thank you, my dear,’ Nell said, giving her most challenging pupil another hug and draping most of her cloak around her shivering shoulders. ‘But we must get you inside before you take a chill. Never mind Mr Moss and his poor opinion of anyone who doesn’t fawn on him as if he was your guardian and not the Earl’s new land steward, we must scurry home as fast as may be now I’ve found you at last.’

‘And I have travelled far today, so let’s hope my manners will mend after a good night’s sleep. The lawyers tell me I have a great deal to do if things are to be run smoothly here once more,’ Mr Moss said in what Nell felt sure was a rather kind attempt to divert Lavinia from the last of her sobs and the convulsive shivers that followed them.

‘They’re right,’ she replied as calmly as she could with the chill reaching both their bodies now. The cold was biting even through her sensible gown with Lavinia wrapped up in most of her cloak. ‘Your predecessor should have retired sooner with such a large and complex estate to manage,’ she went on, mainly to distract herself from her own need to shiver and in the hope it would take Lavinia’s mind off her physical woes as they had to pick their way back over roots and rabbit holes in the ever-deepening twilight.

‘Poor man,’ Lavinia said and Nell heard the shake in her pupil’s voice and pushed their pace as hard as she could without one of them falling flat on their faces.

‘Aye, and if you’re not set on catching a chill in order to be thought interesting for the next week, we’d best get you home faster than this, Miss Lavinia,’ Mr Moss said and hefted the girl into his arms when they paused for breath.

‘Gracious, you’re very strong,’ Lavinia said breathlessly.

‘I’ll run ahead to warn everyone you’re on your way if you will direct Mr Moss, Lavinia? You should be safe with him, by the way. He has atrocious manners and a misplaced sense of humour, but he made no attempt to molest me on the way here,’ Nell managed to say brusquely and scampered away before either of them could argue.

* * *

‘Why, thank you, Miss Court,’ Fergus muttered as he eyed the darkness in her wake.

‘She is a very definite sort of person,’ Lavinia said with a catch in her voice that told him she was fighting the last of her tears.

‘Here, let’s wrap you up in this cloak since she’s left it behind. If you can face her wrath if you catch a chill, I’m not sure I can and don’t get us lost, will you? I don’t know the way even by daylight.’

‘How thoughtless of Miss Court,’ the schoolgirl in his arms said sleepily and Fergus suspected he’d have to get them back as best he could, dark or not.

What a good thing he didn’t lead the sort of life most idle earls about town did, he decided, finding a path through the woods almost by instinct. Slight as this girl was, he was weary from his journey and she was almost an adult. He was oddly touched when she fell asleep in his arms, but wasn’t it as well she didn’t know who he was? His wards probably regarded him as a devil incarnate. He changed his hold on the Selford sleeping so trustingly in his arms and marvelled at the toll too much emotion could take on a young lady. Memory of how it felt to be torn between childish simplicity and the need to find your own way in the world made him feel sorry for his young ward.

His mother had dealt with his rebellious and confused younger self with her usual common sense and his stepfather would shrug and take him on one of his adventures whenever he got out of hand. Saints, but he was lucky, wasn’t he? Not for him the starch and disapproval of a Miss Court; or the memory of parents who saw their own child as a failure simply because she was born female. His mother would have loved him if he had been born a dumb, cross-eyed lunatic, but at least Lavinia’s governess hadn’t ripped up at her. Indeed, Miss Court seemed truly concerned that the girl felt she had to sob out her woes alone. The woman could stay until he found out more about her, he decided grudgingly. Now he would take the role she had thrust at him by mistaking him for Moss and what better way to find out if he could trust her with his wards until they were ready to be brought out in polite society? Then he could go somewhere he would like better and forget Miss Court and his stupid reactions to her in the dark.