Page 57 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
“Just get on with it, man,” Albion snapped, “Tell me who I am dealing with and hurry up!”
“It is the Earl of Crampton, My Lord,” Mr. Crowe said hurriedly while handing over a piece of paper. “We traced the origin of the letter carrier right to the source and it came from a man in that barony. He is the Duke of Barley’s father-in-law, and his daughter, Lavinia Hayward, is the Duke’s wife. According to what I have been told, this Caroline Robins is their governess.”
“Hm,” Albion’s lips were pressed tightly, “I wonder why he wants her gone.”
“The man says that the Earl is sure that Miss Robins is after the Duke for herself and would put his daughter’s position in peril.” Mr. Crowe said, “It is said that Miss Robins is a beauty.”
Of course, Caroline is a beauty, her mother was a debutante from French aristocracy with strawberry-blonde hair and the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen.
“So, this is why he needs her gone,” Albion surmised, “I can understand that. A threat to someone’s kin is one that is taken seriously. Thank you, Crowe.”
With the man gone, Albion considered what he would do in the other Earl’s state. If he was in this position, he would not want an outright visit. So, something clandestine would have to do.
Earl of Crampton, if you are like me, I wonder what secrets you have to hide?
Chapter 22
Inky fingers of indigo were steadily crawling into the darkening canvas of a summer evening as light dots of stars began appearing on the horizon. The sweet smell of bluebells, cornflower, and other vibrant wildflowers were in the air as Lavinia strolled through the gardens of the Barley Mansion.
Moses was secluded in his study, the children were preparing for bed, and she was restless.Perhaps he thinks I haven’t noticed but I have seen a great change in you, Moses.
Moses, who had shied away from warm colors, was now dressing in light tones and dropping the somber ones. No less than five times had she caught him with an expression of pure contentment on his face. He was smiling much more, the stress lines in his face were lightening, and she had heard him humming once.
Humming? Moses doesn’t even sing!
It was dawning on her that her husband was finding joy somewhere and she was sure his mirth was not coming from her. She still had her suspicions about where, or rather, who, he had left to go see during the ball—the governess—but could not prove it.
It was a sore spot but Lavinia was coming to accept it. She was not the center of her husband’s attention anymore.
I was, but never in a good way. He was preoccupied with dealing with my despondency. All those years took a toll on him, he deserves some happiness but…
She faltered and sat heavily on the nearest seat, “I should be happy for him but… what about me? Where is my happiness?”
* * *
The letter, or note rather, had come by surprise as the Earl of Crampton had not expected one. Moreover, the note was a singular eerie reflection of the one he had sent to the shire of Rowe some time ago.
Dear Lord Crampton,
The third party that you have mentioned, a redheaded woman with blue eyes by the name of Caroline who goes by the name of Robins is a concern for me. I do think we should discuss this aggravating nuisance in the privacy of the Sterling Swan in London tomorrow evening. I look forward to meeting you there.
A concerned party
Peregrine’s eyebrows arched so high they nearly met his hairline. The Sterling Swan, if he remembered correctly, was an inconspicuous red-brick building that was nothing more than a pretentious gaming hell with a pretty coating. The inn rooms, set above the billiards, whist, and hazard halls were let out for men and their courtesans to have illicit affairs. If anyone wanted to have a secret meeting, that place would be the top one on the list.
“Wesley,” Peregrine said while folding the letter, “Make preparation for a trip to London on the morrow.”
“Understood, My Lord.” The butler, who acted as a valet when needed, answered. “Anything else?”
“Not at this time, no,” the Earl said.Well, I finally have a chance to see who I am dealing with, my co-conspirator.
* * *
“Excuse me, Yo—” his stare cut Caroline’s words off at the quick and she instantly rebounded, “Moses. But what are you saying?”
The Duke was shuffling the pack of cards with smooth movements. “Just as I said three minutes ago, if you are that good at chess, I want to try your hand at cards. Please, humor me.”
Hesitantly, Caroline sat and looked at the card table. “And what game would this be?”
