Capturing the Governess’s Heart by Sally Forbes
Chapter Two
Robert Duke of Dalwater leaned forward in his carriage seat and called up to his driver. “Why have we slowed?”
“Wagons ahead unloading, Your Grace,” came the prompt yet curt reply.
Robert cursed under his breath, then leaned out of the window. Unfortunately, there appeared to be no rude merchant holding up traffic, and there was no one at which to direct his ire. A flurry of footmen and servants were working to unload the wagons quickly and carry the heavy trunks into a fashionable townhome. Robert could do nothing but slump back on his seat and wait until his carriage had room to move forward.
“Imagining choosing such a time to move one’s household,” Robert muttered to himself. Then he stopped, thought about the date, and let out a long groan as he was alone. “Of course, the Season is starting. It feels as if it comes earlier and earlier every year.”
Eager to reach town before the cold rains made travel nearly impossible, families had been taking up residence in London sooner each autumn. Robert despised the chaos which the rising number of rental townhomes and the arrival of their new residents caused yearly, but, most of all, he hated the endless rounds of invitations, concerts, and balls they signified.
It always felt as if hunting season was on … and he was the fox as a bachelor. He would prefer to hide out all winter in his own Dalwater Manor and only venture into London proper to visit his gentleman’s club. Unfortunately, his day’s business could not be avoided any more than the traffic ahead.
After what seemed an age, his driver urged the horses forward, and they managed to ease through the chaotic scene. Robert made a note to select a different route on the way home and again hoped he would get away from the city sooner than expected. Once his business was concluded, he wished to get out into the surrounding countryside quickly and be at home at Dalwater Manor as soon as possible.
His second wish was to accomplish his business without running into any acquaintances, but that hope was crushed as soon as he set foot out of his carriage. “Your Grace!” called a voice.
Robert looked about and recognized the acquaintance, though he could not recall the lord’s name. “Good afternoon,” he responded politely.
“How wonderful to see you here just in time for the Season. It’s been too many years since you did our young ladies the great honor of attending a ball or two!” The older, jovial lord grinned at him.
“I’m here on urgent business, my lord. Good day to you.”
The smiling lord would not be deterred. “Still worried about the gossipmongers, eh? Your Grace must know that all of London stands behind you. Women are fickle creatures, and you may have caught one of the worst of them. But, come now, there will be plenty of fresh faces and angelic charms this year to enjoy, will there not? Won’t you join my friends and I for dinner this evening?”
Robert ground his teeth. He did not like using his sister as an excuse, but he simply could not stomach the idea of getting caught up in another London Season. “Apologies, dear sir, but I am only here to conclude my duties to my sister.”
The lord’s face paled. “Yes, of course. Terrible tragedy. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.”
“Thank you, sir.” Robert touched the brim of his hat with finality, then took the stone steps of the office building in front of him two at a time.
“Well, there you are. About time,” a sharp voice greeted him once inside.
Lady Susan, Dowager Duchess of Dalwater, rapped her cane on the floor. Though she did not need its support, his mother wielded the gilded wood to express her every emotion. He recognized her claw-like grip on the carved head as a sign of impatience, but her other hand fluttered above the other, which worried him. They were not there on happy business, and the strain of it showed in the barely noticeable action. On top of that, she had been kept waiting, and that simply would not do.
“Mother, I’m sorry, I did not know you would be in attendance. Have they not settled you in the office with refreshments?” Robert looked around and saw a footman wearing a pained expression standing stiffly in the corner. Obviously, the offer had been made and refused, putting the young man in an awkward position.
“I told them my son would be here to escort me.” The Dowager sniffed. She took Robert’s offered arm and rapped her cane again. “Well? Tell them we are ready!”
The footman leaped from his post, and seconds later, the doors to an elegant but austere office were thrown open. A host of clerks stood ready to greet the Duke and Dowager Duchess, each looking as if he’d swallowed an egg whole.
“Our man must be tied up in court,” The Dowager told Robert.
The team of replacements all spoke at once, eager to assure the pair that the matter at hand could be dealt with immediately and efficiently by themselves. They were there to hear the final will and testimony of The Marquess and Marchioness of Allernach, Robert’s recently departed sister and brother-in-law. He was ready to conclude the interview as quickly as possible, but his mother was sure to insist that the proper protocol be observed.
“Thank you, but we will wait,” he told the clerks. He led his mother across the room and seated her on a stiff settee by the window.
The clerks, driven by the horror of somehow offending their superior clients, stumbled over each other with offers of refreshments, reading material, and other entertainments for what they were certain would be a short wait.
“Tea, thank you,” Robert said with a dismissive nod.
The order was given, and servants rushed in from another door to set out the tea service. The dowager took one look at the lot of them, waved them all away, and set about pouring the tea herself. Mother and son were left alone in the grand office to await their barrister’s attendance.
Robert stifled a sigh as he joined his mother, taking his tea the way she preferred him to drink it. “How have you fared these past six months, Mother?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Six months, and only a handful of visits from you. Six months since your dear sister passed, and we’ve all but become strangers!”
“And yet your weekly letters and instructions make me feel as if I haven’t missed a moment,” Robert said drily.
The Dowager’s stern countenance cracked a little, and she gave him a fond glance as she handed him his tea. “You always were a trying child. Not at all like your niece and nephew. Please don’t mistake me. The children are a terrible burden to someone my age, but their good manners far exceed yours.”
Robert frowned into his tea cup. He had almost forgotten his sister’s children. Six months ago, their mother and father had died in a tragic carriage accident, and they had been living with the Dowager since that sad time. “Abigail, correct? And Hammond?”
“Henry.” She corrected him sharply.
Robert was saved further censure as the door again opened, and a stern man stepped inside. He was the late Marquess of Allernach’s barrister, and it was his duty to read them the last will and the witness's testimony. His tone was clipped and businesslike, but even the Dowager could not fault his impeccable manners. He commenced at once.
First, a laboriously detailed list of all the marquess’ properties, then a litany of other holdings. Without a change in tone or tempo, the barrister checked off one heirloom at a time and which esteemed family member, friend, or acquaintance would receive the beloved object. He went through every item of the deceased couple’s magnificent estate, right down to the last clutch of chicks to be born the week before the accident.
Almost lulled into a stupor by the man’s monotonous voice, Robert started suddenly at the final clause. “Guardian? Me?”
“Your Grace has been appointed the legal guardian of both Miss Abigail and Mister Henry. They will remain your wards until the former is appropriately married, and the latter reaches his majority,” the barrister repeated.
“Ah, your sister,” the dowager said in a wistful voice. “She always knew just how to set you straight.”
Robert scratched at his mutton-chop sideburns and tried not to think of his beloved sister. It still felt as if she were off touring the countryside and would soon be there to laugh at all his little blunders over dinner. He could barely admit she was truly gone; how was he to deal with her heartbroken children?
“There must be some mistake. Allernach must have relatives who would love and care for the children much better than myself,” Robert declared.
The barrister opened his mouth to speak, but the Dowager Duchess interrupted him with a sharp rap of her cane. “I’m afraid not, dear Robert. Otherwise, the children would not have been underfoot at my expense these last few months.”
Knowing his mother had never been the nurturing kind, Robert could not hope the children would find a better home with their grandmother. The Dowager Duchess was loving and generous in her heart, but she firmly believed in the old adage that to spare the rod would spoil the child.
She also believed in the letter of the law and now stood up to show she was content with the reading of the will and that their business was concluded.
Robert leapt to his feet a second too late and earned a stern look from his mother. “You are no longer to reside at the townhome and shall now escort me home to Dalwater Manor to greet the children,” she told him.
His heart sunk as he realized his dream of a peaceful, reclusive winter was gone. “Yes, Mother.”
Outside the offices, the dowager waved away Robert’s carriage. He gave her a hand into her own conveyance, where she could not even wait until he was seated across from her before she started in with her undisputable advice. “The children will need a firm hand. Their minds have not been on their studies whatsoever these past few months, and you must remedy that immediately.”
“They are still grieving their mother,” Robert pointed out against his best interests.
The dowager arched an eyebrow at him. “That is why you should marry as soon as possible. Give them the family they need, Robert, and stop your dithering.”
Robert gave a short bark of laughter. “Of course, that is your solution. If the circumstances weren’t so tragic, I might imagine that you and my sister have had this planned all along.”
“She did not approve of you locking yourself away. This was to be your Season, she told me, and I intend to see her vindicated.”
“And I’m sure you already have a list of appropriate matches for me.” Robert wearily leaned his head back on the carriage seat and closed his eyes. “I merely hope you haven’t encouraged any of their families because I am still not inclined to marry.”
“Your inclination matters very little now that you have the children to think of.”
With that the dowager sniffed and the conversation was closed. The carriage ride to Dalwater Manor, nestled deep in the countryside surrounding the great metropolis, did not take long. To Robert, it felt like an age. Just that morning, his plans had been simple and his preferred life of near-reclusiveness undisturbed. Now, he was trapped between his mother and his sister’s offspring, and he rather fancied he’d rather be drawn and quartered.
Abigail, his sister’s eldest child, appeared at the top of the grand staircase as soon as he and the dowager entered the Great Hall. She was seventeen years old, almost the exact copy of his sister, and Robert paused in shock. He realized in an instant how difficult it must have been for his mother to see his niece make such sudden appearances during their last six months of grieving. Obviously anxious to know her fate, the girl rushed down the stairs and caught herself just in time to give the dowager a deep curtsy.
“There, there, my dear. No need to fear you will be shipped off across the Atlantic. Your uncle here is now your legal guardian, and Dalwater Manor shall remain your home,” the dowager said reassuringly.
Robert thought it heartwarming how quickly his mother eased the girl’s anxiety. He could see a close bond had already been formed between the two, and he wondered if it meant his niece would be his ally … or a spy for the dowager. Either way, he had no desire to come between them and would have preferred to be absent from the scene all together.
Instead, he gave Abigail a gentlemanly bow. “Welcome home, dear niece.”
“And to you, Uncle Robert!” She surprised him with a quick embrace that exposed her still-childish sensibilities.
“Avast, ye pirates! What noise is this?” The door to the library swung open, and a slim boy wielding a wooden sword leapt into the hall. He stopped short when he saw the company gathered at the bottom of the staircase and, in his panic, tried to hide the toy weapon behind his back.
“Henry!” Abigail and the dowager cried as one.
Robert chuckled. “Never fear, my captain. It is none but your loyal crew.”
“Uncle Robert!” The ten-year-old boy flew across the Great Hall and gave Robert a collision more than a hug.
“Where on earth did you find that sword?” Robert asked.
Henry grinned. “I had one of the stablemen help me make it. Your estate has absolutely no amusements whatsoever.”
“I told you, Henry. You are too old for playthings, and you should be concentrating on your studies.” Abigail sounded remarkably stern and much like her grandmother.
Robert grinned. “Don’t worry, Henry. Your grandmother is already converting me from bachelor to guardian, and I’m sure my estate will undergo the necessary changes to accommodate you. Besides, we can always begin your studies with Naval History.”
“So, is it true? Are we to stay with you now?” Henry asked.
Abigail took hold of her over-eager brother and chastised him. “They’ve only just arrived. Don’t bombard everyone with your questions.”
The boy reluctantly followed his sister back to the library. “But who can I bombard then? Will you tell me what is going on?”
Robert watched his niece usher his nephew through the door, then turn and give him and his mother an apologetic curtsy. His heart clutched again as he saw her resemblance to his sister. It was a shame she was not here to guide her children, and Robert feared he would be a terrible replacement for their parents’ love.
“I cannot believe you think this is what is best for them,” he told his mother.
The dowager rapped her cane to contradict him. “You are family, Robert. Besides, I’ve decided I shall remain at Dalwater Manor for the Season. I shall be here to assist you and see you and your new family settled quite comfortably.”
He longed to argue with her, but the dowager called for her lady’s maid and went upstairs to rest before dinner. She left him standing in the Great Hall, not knowing which way to turn. The arrangements for him to move from the London townhome back to the manor were already underway and would be done within two days.
Robert often moved back and forth at a moment’s notice, and both residences held everything he needed in between. In the end, he had no choice but to go to his rooms and dress for dinner.
Dinner was a painful affair, full of the dowager’s strict lessons on etiquette. Poor Henry squirmed, spilled his soup course, and knocked half a jelly off his plate and onto the floor. Abigail tried unsuccessfully to speak with the dowager about plans for the Season and was instead corrected on everything from her posture to the way she put her fork in her mouth.
Even Robert was upbraided, first for his selection of cheese and then for his consumption of wine. By the seventh course, everyone was exhausted, and the children elected to go straight to their rooms.
“And where exactly do you think you are going?” The dowager asked Robert.
“Proper manners require that I now take a brandy,” Robert said.
The dowager frowned, certain he was not answering her question, though she had no choice but to let him disappear. “Good night, then,” she sniffed.
As soon as the door closed between them, Robert knocked back his brandy and summoned his carriage. He was back in the center of London within the hour and finally breathed a sigh of relief when he alighted on the steps of his club, Bradsby’s.
But even the sanctuary usually offered by Bradsby’s was limited because of the Season drawing ever nearer. Robert gritted his teeth and moved through the crowded rooms until he caught sight of the Duke of Elsby. “Theo! Thank God. What a day I’ve had. You have no idea.”
Theo grinned and gestured for a waiter to follow with their drinks. He steered his friend to a more private corner, where the two young dukes sat in comfortably stuffed leather chairs. “Turns out I may know more than you think,” Theo told him once they were settled.
Robert groaned. “Is there to be no more privacy anywhere?”
“Not in any corner of London that gossip can reach,” Theo said. “So, you’ve acquired yourself a fine pair of children, eh?”
Robert paused and sipped at his drink thoughtfully. “They are a fine pair. Wonderful, actually. Though the girl looks too much like my sister.”
“Bit like seeing a ghost about the manor?” Theo gave his friend a sympathetic look. He had grown up in the same circles as Robert and his sister, and he had been as fond of the marchioness as he was his siblings.
“Exactly,” Robert said.
“Well, there are cures for children, you know. Pack them off to the countryside; send the girl to finishing school and the boy into the Navy, or you could just hire a governess and go on as if nothing has changed.”
“The Dowager has declared she’ll be staying at Dalwater throughout the Season.”
Theo’s hearty laugh drew a few glances from the other gentlemen in the room. “Ah, well then, everything will be taken care of without you having to say a word.”
“She claims the children need a mother and that, accordingly, I must marry posthaste.” Robert ground his teeth as Theo laughed again. “Though, perhaps you’re right. If I hire a governess, there would be no need for my life to change.”
Robert leaned back in his club chair and felt his shoulders relax for the first time all day. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a way he could fulfill his duties to the children without raising his mother’s ire and without hanging the marriage noose around his own neck. He toasted Theo for his wise advice, now assured his future need not change as much as he had originally feared.
