Page 17 of One Night of Surrender
“I don’t see how it’ll fit,” the one already inside the room said.
“Has to,” the one outside said.“Mr.Sadler was insistent.”
“Then let him come do it.”The first one sounded rather disgruntled.
Well, no more than Isabelle felt.
Spinning on her heel, she went back the way she came and prayed she wouldn’t run into her employers, or worse—the girls.Poor Caroline had been so upset.Isabelle’s heart ached for her.She’d grown quite close to both her and Beatrice, and hated that she wouldn’t get to see them reach their full potential.
Isabelle swallowed against the ache in her throat.She’d faced and, more importantly, overcome disappointment before.This was not the worst that could happen to her, not the worst thathadhappened to her.She’d clawed her way back from destitution and hopelessness, and she refused to go back.
Thankfully, she encountered no one as she returned downstairs, not until she reached the entry hall.The footman stationed at the door looked in her direction, but she hurried on her way.
Turning to the right, she moved quickly past the library and went to Val’s study.Though she’d been here only a few days, she’d made a point of mapping the house so she could better avoid her host.Until now.
Now, she was torn between wanting to find him inside and hoping he was elsewhere so she wouldn’t have to suffer the embarrassment of facing him in her current unemployed state.
Why should she be embarrassed?It wasn’t her fault Lady Barkley had suddenly decided to hire a new governess.Was it even sudden?For all Isabelle knew, she’d been planning it for some time.Perhaps every “visit” to her “sick” aunt had been an interview for Isabelle’s replacement.That thought only rekindled her anger and hurt at being so shockingly dismissed.
Why hadn’t the baroness told Isabelle she wanted to replace her?Then Isabelle could have been searching for a new position while Lady Barkley had sought a new governess.For whatever reason, Lady Barkley hadn’t wanted to afford Isabelle that courtesy.
The door to the study was ajar, but she had to push it open to go inside.Val looked up from his desk, where he pored over a sheaf of documents stacked before him.
He stood and came around the desk.He was so handsome, even more so than he’d been ten years ago, the faint lines around his eyes giving proof that he still laughed as much as he had when she’d known him.
He stopped short of taking her hands in his, but it was clear he’d been about to.Instead, he dropped them back to his sides.“Isabelle, I’m so sorry about your position.”
“I came to see if I could borrow some parchment.And a quill.Well, not borrow the parchment since I plan to write on it and send it away.The quill, however, I shall return.I must also borrow your study so that I may conduct my business.I’m afraid I can’t use my chamber as two footmen are currently squeezing another bed inside, and I’d rather stay away from the library in case—”
Abandoning his hesitation, Val took her hand in his, and she was instantly calmed by his warmth and strength.“You still ramble when you’re upset.”
“When did you ever see me upset?”
He arched a brow at her.“When one of your father’s students stole the essay you wrote about Voltaire’sPhilosophical Letters on the English.”
She remembered that, of course.Val had understood her outrage.In fact, he’d even taken the matter into his own hands, if memory served.“Didn’t you black his eye at the pub that night?”
Grinning, he looked as proud now as he had then.“With glee.”His smile faded.“Shall I plant a facer on Barkley?I’d like to.”
“As satisfying as that may be, you are no longer the Wicked Duke of Eastleigh.At least I hope you’re not.Surely you’ve matured.”
He perched on the front edge of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest.“I thought you liked the Wicked Duke of Eastleigh.”
She had—perhaps too much.“His wickedness rubbed off on me.That isn’t fair.I was just as…wicked.”She shook her head.“I didn’t come here to reminisce.I need to write some letters as I find myself in need of employment.”
He winced and gestured toward one of the wingback chairs angled in front of the hearth, where a low, pleasant fire burned.“Will you sit?”
She didn’t want to sit; she wanted to write.First she needed him to provide her the implements she required.Grasping a thread of patience, Isabelle went to the chair and perched on the edge.
Val sat in the other chair, which put their knees only a foot apart.She scooted back on her cushion.His brow shot up, then slowly lowered, indicating he’d noted her movement.Thankfully, he said nothing, though she was more than ready to tell him it was best if they kept their distance.
“I would be happy to frank your letters,” he offered.“And please don’t tell me you can’t accept my assistance.This is an inconsequential thing.Furthermore, I can’t imagine you’d want to ask Barkley.”
In fact, she’d planned to ask Val to do just that.“Thank you.You’re right.I don’t want to ask Lord Barkley.”
Val scowled.“Why didn’t they just hire this additional governess for the things you can’t teach them?Surely she isn’t as well educated as you and can’t possibly tutor the girls in all the subjects you can.”
His praise chased away some of her despair.“I made the same argument.However, Lady Barkley said the girls didn’t need to learn everything I was teaching them, that it was too much.”That might be true, especially to a woman as ill educated as Lady Barkley, but Isabelle feared the real reason she’d been fired was because Lady Barkley was jealous of the close relationship she’d formed with Beatrice and Caroline.
