Page 31 of The Earl's Disguised Governess
Moving to the vanity, she looked for a pair of onyx earrings. But beneath Lady Florence’s pearl-encased jewellery box was a creamy corner of a letter, embossed with a flourishing signature. Claire bit her lip, glancing at the open door.
There were no footsteps that she could hear, and so Claire reached for the corner of the letter. She felt wrong in doing so, but this was the second letter she had noticed in Lady Florence’s room, and then there had been that familiar man outside the playhouse …
I am merely ensuring that she is not causing herself any ruin, Claire told herself. And that she is corresponding with honourable men who are not saying improper things to her.
Gently tugging the letter free, she noticed a name written in cursive: Victor—
But before she could read anything else, footsteps rushed into the room, and Claire startled, caught red-handed.
Lady Florence stood in the doorway, her hands balled into fists and her face tight with outrage.
“Miss Gundry!” she cried. Her eyes dropped, appalled, to where Claire snatched her hands away from the letter.
“Lady Florence, I did not see anything!” she protested. “I swear, I—”
“You have no right! You may be my governess, but that does not permit you to go through my belongings!”
And she was right. Florence was younger than Claire, but her higher rank meant that she could have Claire’s employment taken away from her at a moment’s notice.
“Please, Lady Florence, calm down,” she said quietly, raising her hands and stepping away from the vanity. “I merely only saw a name. I did not read any of the letter’s content.”
“As you should not have! That is private.”
“I understand,” Claire answered. “But I wanted to look out for you. At the playhouse there was a man who was watching you. I know your cousin would want to know you are keeping the right company—”
“My cousin has not cared about me for six months,” Lady Florence cried. “He does now, but only since you have encouraged his effort. He would not know if I had already wed!”
“Lady Florence!” Claire admonished. “Do not say such things. Of course, Lord Bannerdown would notice. He cares for you!”
“He only cares about his work and the war that haunts him,” she spat, shaking her head. “And you care only to speak to him. Ever since you have grown close to Lord Bannerdown, you have barely spent time with me.”
Her accusation struck Claire as childish, even as she felt wretched for thinking that.
“That is not true,” she whispered. “I care for you, Lady Florence. You are more than my ward but a friend. I wish to see you grow into a wonderful young lady of the Ton, and I see that you are excited for your future in society. You are well-skilled and will make a fine wife to a wonderful man, but I would like to make sure that he will be as wonderful as you deserve. This—this Victor … does he treat you well? Does he speak to you as you deserve?”
“Miss Gundry,” Lady Florence hissed, her cheeks flushing with humiliation. “Do not ask such things.”
“Are you risking your reputation?”
“No!” she shouted, averting her gaze. “Miss Gundry, you are a lovely governess, but you do not need to concern yourself with such things about my life.” She paused. “Unless you wish to report back to Lord Bannerdown.”
“I am no storyteller,” Claire assured her. “We all have things we wish to keep close to our hearts. I only want to know you are safe. Are you entertaining a romance with this Victor?”
Lady Florence’s gaze bore into the floor as she paused, and Claire half feared the young woman would retreat and ignore her. But she didn’t. She only moved further into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.
Her face was a picture of tenderness, her smile demur and her eyes widening in excitement for whatever she was about to say. It was a large change from the angry girl who had given her an outburst, flying into the room earlier.
“The truth is, Miss Gundry,” she began, “is that Lord Victor, the man who writes me those letters, is a gentleman. I met him a year ago at the assembly halls in town. Of course, my parents were still alive, and they knew that I had danced with him after my father introduced me to him. But it was only once that we got to dance. Yet it was enough for me to know my affections.” She looked at her vanity, at the letter. “Ever since, we have traded letters. He is the second son and lives very happilyso for that fact. We have enjoyed one another’s company. He went to Oxford for a year, and after he did not find what he was after, he returned to Bath.”
“Which was why he was at the playhouse,” Claire guessed. But the question lingered. What had Lord Victor gone in search of out in Oxford? She could only hope it was something honourable. “Do you know what it is he searched for?”
“I do not know,” she answered. “He spoke little about it, but I imagine it was his sense of purpose, perhaps. He was very keen on proving himself to his family, so I can only think it was in relation to that.” Her cheeks were brushed with a pretty blush. “The playhouse was the first time I have seen him in a long time.”
Claire stepped back, nodding. She hummed in thought. She wasn’t sure if she should let Lord Bannerdown know. After all, if Lady Florence was not yet on the marriage market, and he had not had a chance to scope out her potential suitors, then he should know there was a man already involved in Florence’s affections.
“His letters are very kind,” Lady Florence said quietly as if hopeful of swaying Claire’s thoughts. She only shook her head in response as she gathered her thoughts. She could not betray Florence’s confidence or even give somebody else’s secrets away, for she had her own, and she did not want Lord Bannerdown to know.
“Lady Florence, you are too young for romance,” she said gently, carefully.
