Page 23 of The Earl's Disguised Governess
He frowned. What had they talked about except one another?
Instead of comforting him, the thought only pierced him further.
“I would be delighted for you to call upon the manor,” he told Graham. “But I would love you to see the redecoration of the drawing room. My mother is going for a very sophisticated look, and you would very much appreciate it, I believe.”
Graham smiled at him, none the wiser of Ernest’s attempt to delay his visit lest there be any sort of romance between him and Miss Gundry. He would not be able to bear that.
“Very well,” Graham said, nodding. “Thank you for thinking of me, Ernest. And I look forward to that drink.”
“As do I,” Ernest answered quietly as he watched his friend leave the practice room where he was stationed, feeling guilt eating away at him. He concentrated only on packing his work belongings away for the day and heading out as well.
***
Little Harkwell was a dark sentinel in the late afternoon by the time Ernest returned home. Usually, he worked late to avoid his mother and retired to his study before sharing a drink with her in the parlour when he knew she would be mellowed and in better spirits.
But today, he did not go to the parlour. He went straight towards the music room, where notes were tinkling their way from the room and into the hallway as if beckoning Ernest to come closer.
He knew it was not the practiced way Miss Gundry played, nor the searching notes that his cousin played. He was proficient in the pianoforte but did not always know themelodies presented. He questioned who, in fact, played despite hearing both his cousin and Miss Gundry talking.
The governess’s voice was soft and soothing, and Ernest found himself gravitating towards it.
“Lady Florence, I understand you are tired after a day of lessons, but please listen to your instructor.”
“But it is so difficult,” he heard his cousin respond.
Ernest poked his head around the doorway, curious. What instructor?
In the room, the piano had been set back, and a woman he did not recognize sat at it, looking stern. She had her hair pulled back into a tight bun, and a flowing skirt hugged her legs, while a white blouse complemented her without a bodice, he noticed.
A harsh clap of the instructor’s hands had even him jumping to attention. “Lady Florence, we shall try again.”
“But I am struggling, Mademoiselle Trevoux,” Lady Florence said, wincing. She stood in the centre of the room, awkwardly holding out her arms.
It finally hit Ernest: his cousin was learning to dance.
She had performed a country reel well enough, but it appeared that she was being prepared even more than he realized for the marriage market.
“And one will always struggle if one does not practice often enough,” Mademoiselle Trevoux chided. “Come now. Once again, from the beginning. Miss Gundry, if you shall, continue playing the pianoforte while I tutor.”
“Of course.”
The two women switched places, and Ernest watched, raptured, as the governess swept her skirts around her as she sat at the piano bench, her fingers settling on the keys. But it was no use. Even as she played and the dance instructor barked her commands, his cousin merely looked confused and kept stepping on the woman’s toes.
“Perhaps we should take a break?” Miss Gundry suggested, and Ernest smoothed out his amused smile as the three women showed signs of distress, nodding eagerly.
“The waltz is a romance novel within a book!” Mademoiselle Trevoux exclaimed as they broke away. “You must perfect it before you meet with any suitors, Lady Florence.”
“I am trying,” she said calmly. “But there are so many counts.”
“Merely four! That is all you need. Four counts and the ability to move around the room gracefully.”
As the two parted, Mademoiselle Trevoux caught sight of Ernest lingering in the doorway. She gasped, excitement etching across her face.
“Lord Bannerdown!” she said happily. “You must join us!”
“Me?” he asked, blinking. “Oh, no, I could not possibly—”
“Yes! For this is exactly what Lady Florence is missing! A male partner.”
