Abby Gaines - The Governess and Mr. Granville

A Wife of Her Choosing

Dominic Granville needs a wife—whether he wants one or not! And governess Serena Somerton intends to find one for him. A marriage of convenience would provide the wealthy widower’s five children with a mother’s tender care. And yet none of Dominic’s prospective brides can meet Serena’s increasingly high standards.

Unconventional, certainly. Outspoken, to be sure. Even so, Miss Somerton’s quirks can’t curb Dominic’s growing interest in the spirited young woman. After his wife’s death, Dominic was sure he couldn’t love again. But faced with the prospect of losing Serena to another, one fact becomes clear. His imperfect governess could be his ideal wife.

“I will do my best for my children in this matter of my remarriage, Miss Somerton, you may rely on that. I am more than conscious that they depend on me—indeed, I would give my life for any of them.”

What on earth had possessed him to say something so dramatic? Blame it on the midnight madness. Serena made a little smothered sound. Dominic raised his eyebrows at her, daring her to comment.

She shook her head. “It’s time I returned to my chamber.” She bent over and kissed Louisa’s forehead. The way she smoothed a lock of his daughter’s hair reminded Dominic of Emily. For one moment, he found himself wanting that touch on his own hair, that tenderness directed at him.

No.

Yet instinctively, he drew closer, and as Serena straightened, she bumped into him. Dominic grasped her arms to steady her. Immediately, he released her.

They stood, staring at each other.

“Good night,” she blurted. And almost ran from the room.

ABBY GAINES

wrote her first romance novel as a teenager, only to have it promptly rejected. A flirtation with a science fiction novel never really got off the ground, so Abby put aside her writing ambitions as she went to college, then began her working life at IBM. When she and her husband had their first baby, Abby worked from home as a freelance business journalist…and soon after that the urge to write romance resurfaced. It was another five long years before Abby sold her first novel to Harlequin Superromance in 2006.

Abby lives with her husband and children—and a labradoodle and a cat—in a house with enough stairs to keep her semifit and a sun-filled office with a sea view that provides inspiration for the funny, tender romances she loves to write. Visit her at www.abbygaines.com.

The Governess and Mr. Granville

Abby Gaines

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!

—Isaiah 43:18–19

For Bridget Latham

With love and best wishes for your new life with Darrell

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Excerpt

Chapter One

Woodbridge Hall, Leicestershire, England, 1816

Dominic Granville seldom troubled himself with the running of his household. He had a spinster sister and a host of servants to take care of that. Besides, he had plenty to occupy him, between his land and its tenants.

Oh, yes, and his children.

His assumption that things would continue very much as they had for the past five years had proved correct. Until today.

Until he’d opened the letter newly arrived from London, fixed with a seal of aristocracy that he remembered from his school days at Eton, but hadn’t had much occasion to see since.

Blast.

Dominic reread the letter, penned in a firm, elegant hand. It said exactly what he thought it had on his first reading.

He tugged the bellpull behind his desk. While he waited for his butler, he scrutinized the letter a third time. How inconvenient.

“Sir?” Molson had a habit of materializing silently; somehow he’d opened the library door without Dominic noticing. Over the years, Dominic had mastered the art of hiding his start of surprise, so now he looked up calmly.

“Is Miss Somerton in the schoolroom?” he asked.

“I believe, sir, Miss Somerton and the children are—” Molson hesitated “—in pursuit of lepidoptera.”

“Chasing butterflies?” Dominic said blankly. “Why?”

“Miss Somerton felt it was an occupation Masters Thomas and William should practice, sir. I believe she called it a lesson in nature sciences.”

“What about the girls?” Dominic asked. “Shouldn’t they be stitching something?”

“Misses Hester, Charlotte and Louisa are also pursuing lepidoptera.”

Dominic frowned. In the past three weeks alone, he’d had to send word to the governess that shrieking outside the library window wasn’t acceptable. That allowing the children to drink lemonade in the billiard room—which, technically, was forbidden territory—left a sticky residue everywhere. Both times, instead of contrition, her response had been to invite him to play with the children. Extraordinary.

When he’d found her timing the children as they slid down the banisters, his instinct had been to dismiss her on the spot. For his sister’s sake—Marianne had hired the woman, and would be distressed at having to replace her—he’d constrained his reaction to the delivery of a stern lecture about safe pursuits.

Maybe today’s letter was timely, after all. “Send Miss Somerton to me as soon as they come inside,” he ordered.

“Certainly, sir.” Molson’s confiding tone said he knew just why Dominic needed to see the governess. The butler glided from the room.

Dominic wondered if he was the last to hear the news. He seldom traveled to London these days, and didn’t read the society pages of the newspaper. Unlike his butler, apparently. He presumed Marianne hadn’t—

A scream from outside the library brought him to his feet. He strode to the door and flung it open.

The entrance hall teemed with people—all five of Dominic’s children, Molson and a footman on his hands and knees, grimacing as he groped behind the oak chest that had been in the family since Elizabethan days. A maid stood pressed against the wall, her hand over her mouth: she must be the screamer. The last participant in this pandemonium was the governess, Miss Serena Somerton, who was patting the maid’s shoulder.

“There, there, Alice,” she soothed. “It was only a lizard. It couldn’t possibly harm you.”

Which told Dominic all he needed to know. “Thomas,” he barked.

Silence fell, sudden and absolute.

Eleven-year-old Thomas stepped forward. “Yes, Papa?”

His twin sister, Hester, younger by thirty minutes, slipped her hand into his. Whatever trouble Thomas was in, Hetty would insist on sharing it. Which made it dashed hard for Dominic to discipline his son.