Page 16 of The Earl's Disguised Governess
He offered her a smile, and she returned it, a flash of teeth showing as something like hope lit her face. “Thank you, Lord Bannerdown.”
“And also,” he continued, “I just so happen to have tickets for a box at the playhouse in Bath next week to see Romeo and Juliet. One of my friends in the theatre knows of the man playingRomeo, and I hear he is rather good. Would you do me the honour of attending with me, Cousin?”
Her eyes glimmered with welled-up tears as she nodded eagerly, clasping his hands. He felt a burning gaze on him, and when he looked around to follow the feeling, he found his mother glaring at him from a group of women. Her gaze flicked disinterestedly to Florence.
“Thank you, Lord Bannerdown,” Lady Florence whispered. “I would absolutely love to attend with you. That would mean the world to me.”
He smiled broadly, ignoring his mother and turning back to his cousin. “Excellent. Miss Gundry, would you care to join us?”
“I would indeed,” she said, an incredulous smile on her face. As Florence talked excitedly about the play, Ernest mouthed thank you to Miss Gundry, who nodded her head in acknowledgement. Her bright eyes on him made his stomach flip, but he tampered the feeling down. You are not long back from the war where you did not see another woman.
Still, the reasoning did not quite work, and he struggled to pull his gaze away from his ward’s governess.
***
The night progressed with his mother still flouncing her new title around and making sure everybody knew exactly who the new Earl of Bannerdown was. Ernest felt eyes on him the whole night, right through a decadent dinner where he was forced to recount what his army dinners looked like—nothing like that fine spread, of course.
In truth, his mind was far away from the dining room of Little Harkwell. It was on a theatre box in which he might admire Miss Claire Gundry. He was unsure she knew she was not required to be there as Florence’s governess, but did that sound too much like … asking to court her?
No. Surely not.
And she would not take it in such a way, and he would ensure it did not look so. He merely wanted to give her the night off and a reason to enjoy herself.
He just needed to ignore the part of his brain that kept noticing how beautiful her skin looked beneath the chandelier light, how her smile lit up the room alone, and that her mind seemed to be wonderful, and he had barely encountered it.
And just because they had experienced one moment of a lingering touch at his carriage the day they travelled into Bath did not mean anything. So, he told himself.
Dinner was thoroughly enjoyed, and wine was drunk, and even when his mother began to tell her friends to encourage him to leave his profession as a medic, ultimately causing him some embarrassment, he let it all wash over him. For Claire kept catching his eye, and he felt a rush of warmth go through him the moment their gazes met. Candlelight flickered off her face, softening her features into a golden glow, and he was captivated.
“The game is rather good, would you agree?” A lord spoke to him on his left, but Ernest did not realize he was being spoken to until his name was repeated. He blinked, and Claire caught him staring a third time. He cleared his throat and looked away from her, but he saw the look of surprise on her face.
“Yes,” he answered the lord. “The game is very pleasant. I am glad you are enjoying the delicacies of the evening.”
“You host a fine party, Bannerdown. I truly did not think you had it in you.”
Ernest frowned at the implication. A commoner medic, the son of a woman who had given up her title, and the son of a physician could not wear fine things and throw a grand dinner party.
Instead of contesting, he said, “Of course. My mother guided me well on the ways of the Ton, especially after being raised in it herself.”
Once dinner was finished and the serving staff descended to clear away plates, Katherine called for the dancing to begin in the ballroom. She still had her entourage, and women snapped their fans out around her, batting their eyelashes at other men, hoping to catch the eye of potential suitors. And his mother … Yes, she was indeed the glistening jewel at the centre of a necklace. She was the dazzling lady of the Ton, never once letting that role slip. Every time he was reminded of it, a frustrated roll of ire went through him.
It was Florence who surprised him when she itched to get up and dance.
“My mother loved dancing,” Florence said to Miss Gundry as they watched from the sidelines. Ernest hovered nearby, nursing a glass of wine. “It would please me to do so now.”
“Then you must dance,” her governess encouraged kindly. “For as we mentioned, grief does not end a life.”
Florence’s face beamed as she got to her feet and joined in with the country reel, dipping into the steps easily. Her dark hair glimmered down her back, and a look of utter joy replaced the sorrowful downturn of her mouth that Ernest had become used to in the six months since moving back to Bath.
As Florence began her dancing, and Miss Gundry was left to stand alone, Ernest approached her, his hands clasped behind his back.
“You are very good with her,” he said.
“I am glad it pleases you, My Lord.” She flicked her gaze upwards to him, smiling shyly. “I am very honoured to be Lady Florence’s governess. It is an employment that suits me and brings me a lot of happiness. Florence is a wonderful, bright girl.”
“She is indeed,” he said. “I am indebted to you for facilitating my ability to talk to her tonight.”
“The play you have invited her to is very considerate,” she told him. “She will love it very much.”
