Capturing the Governess’s Heart by Sally Forbes
Prologue
“Lady Faye,” said a voice from the open doorway of the drawing-room.
Faye Winters looked up from the pianoforte, at which she had idly been staring for the past few hours, to see Huston standing in the doorway. Faye offered him a small but warm smile, despite knowing that it was of no use.
“Yes, Huston?” she asked.
The man made a bitter face as she spoke his name, as she had anticipated he might.
“Lord Welborn requests your presence in his study immediately,” he said.
Without waiting for Faye to respond, Huston turned sharply on his heels, his nose high in the air, and exited the room.
Faye sighed, shuddering at hearing her cousin addressed as the lord of her family. Until eighteen months ago, her father had been the Earl of Welborn. When he passed away suddenly from a terrible illness, her cousin, Mayson Winters, had inherited her father’s title. At first, Faye had thought she and her mother would be well cared for and that her cousin would be a comforting presence in the house after her father’s death. She had never been more wrong about anything in her entire life.
Upon arriving at Welborn Manor, Mayson's first act had been to dismiss every servant the family had had for years. He had left only the cook, Bretta, in his employ, and Huston, whom he had brought with him from his residence in London. Faye and her mother had disliked Huston from the moment they met him, but they thought that, perhaps, he was displeased at having to leave his home and follow his master to Welborn Manor. But they quickly discovered that both Huston and Mayson were very unpleasant men. They seemed to lack empathy and affection for everyone apart from one another, and they seemed to make every effort to make Faye and the dowager countess as unhappy as possible.
However, nothing could compare in the way of horror to the terrible news which Mayson had delivered to Faye in his first week at the manor. When Faye had inquired as to why he had terminated the household servants, he had told her coldly and without sympathy that her father had left her and her mother practically destitute. He claimed to have saved them from the poorhouse by dismissing the servants and that she should be grateful he had allowed the cook to remain. He further claimed to have brought Huston with him so that she and her mother would not be forced to tend to all the household duties themselves. At the time, she had been too stunned by the tidings that her father had left them with so little money to be anything but grateful that Mayson was there to help her and her mother.
She had always believed that her father was a shrewd businessman and handled his ventures well. They had never wanted for anything when he was alive, after all, and she could not imagine him ever getting himself into debt for any reason. At the very least, she would have thought her father would have told her mother if they were in such trouble. He was a proud man, but he was also honest to a fault. It made no sense that they could be poor without any prior knowledge of their situation. But her cousin had insisted that all her father’s ledgers proved what he was saying. She had at first thought that Mayson would pull them from debtand restore her family’s fortune. But she had seen no evidence that he was making any progress toward doing so, and she was filled with doubt as well as disdain for her cousin.
With another heavy sigh, Faye made her way out of the room and toward Mayson’s study. She did not bother trying to appear pleasant. He was indifferent to her, at best, no matter how sweetly she spoke to him. She was a benevolent, charitable, good girl, and most correct in her conduct, with manners that were held to be a standard of good breeding. For the time being, she chose to focus on being polite and professional with her cousin and on getting away from him as quickly as she could.Besides, she needed to see about her mother.
She rolled her eyes as she reached the closed study door. It was just like Huston and Mayson to summon her to a room and then close the door. She knocked firmly so as not to give her cousin a reason to pretend he did not hear her, as he often did.
“Come,” said Mayson, his voice muffled by the heavy wooden door.
Faye shuddered at the sound of his voice, pushing open the ponderous door and stepping inside.
“Next time, perhaps you could try not to tear down the door by pounding on it so hard,” Mayson said before she had even reached the desk.
Faye clenched her teeth, resisting the urge to lower her glance. She squared her shoulders and looked at her cousin, who was still staring down at some papers on his desk.
“Huston said you wanted to see me?” she asked, her voice carrying an impatient edge.
Mayson looked up sharply, raising an eyebrow at her.
“I should think you might want to watch your tone, Cousin,” he said, lowering his eyebrow in favor of a sly smirk. “You would not want to be disrespectful to your guardian, would you?”
Faye bit her lip to suppress a biting remark. She cleared her throat and set her jaw.
“I beg your pardon, Cousin. What can I do for you?” she asked. Her tone was marginally more polite, but she refused to acknowledge his question.
Mayson seemed pleased with her sullen tone. He settled back in his seat, his smile changing to one of extreme satisfaction. He reached for one of the desk drawers, not taking his eyes off his cousin. Faye held his gaze, despite the sudden sense of dread that began to burden her as Mayson’s grin widened.
“Please, sit,” he said, gesturing with his other hand to one of the chairs in front of the desk.
Faye gave him a small, tight smile.
“No, thank you, Cousin,” she said. “I must go see Mother as soon as we’ve finished.”
Mayson’s expression did not change. However, movement from the hand that had been fishing in the drawer caught her attention. When she saw what he was holding, she gasped, her knees nearly collapsing from beneath her. Her cousin lifted a shiny, silver pistol onto the desk, pointing the barrel in her direction and using it to gesture to the seats once more.
“I insist, young Faye,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Faye sat, more out of inability to continue standing than to appease her cousin. He was taking pleasure in her fear, but Faye could not be outraged by the fact. She had not known that Mayson even owned a gun, let alone whether he could actually use it. Something in his hooded gray eyes told her he was almost certainly more than capable of doing so. He tossed his head back and laughed. Her fear-stricken mind could not help thinking about how handsome her cousin was, with his broad shoulders and aquiline nose, if Faye could not see the malice and evil in his every feature. She shuddered as she continued to follow the pistol with her eyes. She was grateful he did not seem to be waiting for her to speak because the gun had her mouth frozen shut
Mayson chuckled, nodding.
“I see you understand me now, Cousin,” he said, sneering. “That means I do not need to say that you must do exactly what I tell you.”
Faye glanced up at Mayson, failing to control the trembling that had taken over her body. She had no idea what he was about to say, but she knew the only response she could give in that moment was a weak nod of her head. Her cousin, still sneering, nodded once more.
“Very good,” he drawled, as though praising a young child. Then, his expression became a scowl. “Now, listen well. I have made arrangements for you to attend the masquerade ball the Marquess of Turlington is soon to be hosting. Do not get excited, though, little Cousin. This is far from benevolence on my part. You will be going for the sole purpose of getting into Lord Turlington’s study unobserved and stealing a black leather journal he has in his possession. I fancy you are unacquainted with such matters of stealth, but you will do as I say.”
Faye’s mouth fell open, and she stared at her cousin with equal parts of fear and disbelief. She shook her head slowly, his words temporarily making her forget all about the gun in his hand.
“What in thunder are you about, Cousin? You must be mad,” she breathed. “You cannot ask such a thing of me.”
Mayson shifted his pistol hand, instantly refreshing her memory of its presence. He narrowed his eyes at her and snarled.
“You shall guard your tongue, little girl. I am not asking such a thing of you,” he said. “I am demanding it. And what’s more, you will do as I say.”
Anger began to flood through Faye. It was one thing for him to come in and treat her and her mother so poorly. It was a whole different matter to try to get either of them involved in criminal activity. She glared at him with angry defiance, balling up her hands at her sides.
“And what will you do if I do not?” she asked. “Shoot me, right here in my home? You would never get away with such a crime. You and I both know that.”
To her horror, Mayson’s smile widened. The pistol made a clicking sound in his hand, and he raised it ever so slightly.
“Do not be so sure of yourself, little Cousin,” he said. “You might be surprised what one can get away with. Especially if there are no witnesses to certain events.”
Faye shook her head, bewildered.
“Mother may be unwell, but she would certainly hear a gunshot,” she said, scoffing. “And she would know very well that I did not shoot myself.”
Mayson laughed wildly.
“You innocent little girl,” he said. “If your mother does not receive the care she needs, she will not live long enough to bear witness to anything.”
Faye furrowed her brows, momentarily confused. She looked at her cousin’s face, and the smug knowingness of his expression gave her the answer. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, shaking her head in disbelief.
“You would not dare,” she whispered, already knowing what her cousin’s response would be.
Mayson nodded, smirking.
“I would indeed,” he said. “If you do not do exactly as I tell you, I will see to it that your mother never receives any kind of medical treatment ever again.” Faye stared at her cousin, furious with the tears that began to stream down her cheeks. It was one thing for Mayson to know he had deeply upset her. It was another for him also to gain the satisfaction of seeing her cry. It was clear to her that her cousin was a terrible, cold monster. It was also apparent that she truly did not have a choice.
As unable to answer Mayson as she was unwilling, Faye merely lifted her chin, scowling at her cousin despite her trembling lip and tear-stained face. Then, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the study. Mayson’s howling laughter followed her out of the room and down the passageway told her he understood perfectly that she would do as he demanded, even though she had not verbally agreed. The thought made her ill, and she rushed up to her bedchambers before her stomach could reject the meager food she had attempted to eat that day, right there on the hallway floor. She wanted to check in on her mother, but she did not want the dowager countess to see her in such distress. How could she ever tell her mother what Mayson had just demanded her to do for him? Could she ever look her mother in the eyes again if she did it? As she realized she had no choice, she slid down onto the floor, her back against the door. She covered her face with her hands and spent the next few hours crying softly.
Despite exhausting herself crying and worrying about the task Mayson was forcing on her, Faye lay awake in her bed that night, unable to close her eyes. She kept trying to tell herself that things would be all right if she refused Mayson’s demand. However, she knew her mother’s condition had worsened drastically over the past few weeks, and she was barely surviving as things were. If Mayson cut off her medical care, as he had threatened to do, she would surely die before Faye could find another way to take care of her. Her heart began to ache as she thought about her late father. How could he ever have left them in such a dire situation? And how could he have ever allowed them to end up under the guardianship of such a horrible man? She bit her lip and tried to reign in her blameful thoughts. Surely, her father had not known her cousin was involved in any sort of criminal activity. Even if her father’s businesses were not running as profitably as she had believed they were, he would never have turned to any sort of criminal activity to support his family after his demise. Would he?
Faye shook her head to rid herself of such thoughts. She refused to believe her father would ever be so irresponsible with her and her mother’s wellbeing, even if he had allowed his businesses to flounder. Perhaps, he’d had plans to rebuild his fortune, but he had died before he could see them through. Whatever the case, she knew he had loved her mother and her dearly and that he would never have purposely jeopardized their safety once he was no longer there to protect them. Besides, none of that mattered now. What mattered was her mother and how close she was to follow her husband into death.
As the reality crashed down onto Faye, she began to cry again. She had watched her mother rapidly turn into the hollow, weak husk of the woman she had once been, who now lay ill in a bed which appeared far too large for her. She had witnessed the countess’s once lush, light-brown hair turn gray in a matter of months and seen the light gradually dim in her sky-blue eyes. The dowager countess, who had only recently looked more like an older sister than Faye’s mother, now resembled her grandmother. And now, she had to face the real possibility that her mother might not live to see another Christmastide. She loved her mother dearly, and there were still so many times to look forward when she had always dreamed of having her mother there by her side, such as her wedding day and the birth of her own children. It was unbearable to think that those times might now never come to pass. And the only way she could prevent such a devastating thing as losing her mother from happening was to comply with Mayson’s demands.
Faye shuddered, wiping vainly at the tears in her eyes. It was one thing for Mayson to be a criminal, but for him to blackmail her into joining him in his life of crime by holding her mother’s life over her head was abhorrent. It showed Faye that her cousin had no remorse, that he was indeed what one would call evil. Only a man with no soul could be so horrible to his own flesh and blood and take pleasure in their suffering. She wished desperately that there was someone she could turn to who could help her and her mother out of their predicament. But, with her father gone and no other relatives that she knew of, there seemed to be no one to rescue them both before it was too late.
