The Tempting Of The Governess

He was stretching out his back and thinking that a quick whisky before dinner might be just the trick when a knock came at the door, followed by the entrance of the elderly butler.

‘Sorry to disturb you, Colonel, but a Mr and Mrs Allen are here, demanding to see you.’

‘Mr and Mrs Allen?’ Hugh repeated. After a rapid review of his memory, he shook his head. ‘I don’t believe I’m acquainted with a Mr Allen.’ Hoping the man wasn’t another of the numerous unpaid creditors his brother had left behind, he said, ‘Did they indicate what they wanted to see me about, Mansfield?’

The butler shook his head. ‘Only that they’d just arrived from St Kitts in the Caribbean and must see you at once on a delicate matter of grave importance.’

Hugh sighed. ‘If they are from St Kitts, it must have something to do with my late cousin’s estate. I thought his solicitor had already informed me of everything I needed to know, but I suppose I shall have to see them.’

‘Very well, Colonel.’

Resisting the urge to jump up and help Mansfield when the old man struggled to close the slightly warped oak door, Hugh remained seated. He’d thought the butler already old when he was a boy growing up here, thirty years ago, he thought wryly. Mansfield should have long ago been put out to pasture, but Hugh’s brother had been too indolent to find a replacement and, for now, Hugh couldn’t spare the cash for the retirement the man’s lifetime of service deserved.

Maybe next year.

Maybe next year, he’d get that door planed down and rehung—yet another project on the never-ending list of repairs and renovations needed at Somers Abbey.

A few minutes later, the butler ushered in a lady and a tall, thin, sunburned man—trailed by two solemn-faced little girls. ‘Mr and Mrs Allen, Colonel—and children.’

Hugh hastily looked away from the girls as agony lanced through him. He fought to suppress the vivid, devastating memory of a round, gamine face, the sound of childish laughter...and the sight of dusty earth raining down as a small coffin was lowered into the hard-baked Indian soil.

A surge of anger followed the pain. Why hadn’t Mansfield warned him the couple had children with them? He’d have instructed him to send the youngsters off to the kitchen before he escorted the parents up.

Struggling to remain cordial, he rose and made them a bow. ‘Colonel Glendenning, Mr and Mrs Allen. You come from St Kitts, my butler tells me? I hope you had a pleasant journey.’

‘Tolerably pleasant, given its long duration,’ Allen said. ‘We’re anxious to complete it, though, and be back home again in Yorkshire.’

‘You are not residents in St Kitts, then? And, please, do have a seat,’ he said, waving them towards the sofa in front of the hearth. ‘Mansfield, bring us tea and ask Mrs Wallace to come up.’ Turning back to his guests, he said, ‘My housekeeper can take the children to the kitchen for some refreshment.’

‘That would be most kind,’ Mr Allen said, ushering his wife to the sofa, the children coming to stand stiffly behind them. ‘To answer your question, I’ve been the export agent for a trading venture on St Kitts these last several years, but my wife has been pining for home, so I resigned my position. We will join our family as soon as we discharge our obligation to the children.’

‘I see. So, how may I be of service?’ Hugh asked, still puzzled about why the Allens had come to see him. ‘I assume you were acquainted with my late cousin, Robert Glendenning. Did he ask you to bring something to me?’

Mr Allen laughed. ‘In a manner of speaking. Although it was, as you know, his wife who did the sending. I was given to understand that you were expecting the children.’

For a moment, stark horror froze his tongue as the import of Allen’s words sank in. ‘The ch-children?’ he stuttered. Although he was terribly afraid he already knew the answer, he asked, ‘What children?’

‘Just the older ones, Mr Glendenning’s two daughters by his first wife. The second Mrs Glendenning wished, of course, to keep their son and heir with her. In any event, I believe you were only named guardian for the girls, Mrs Glendenning having convinced her husband to appoint her brother in that role for their son.’

Turning back to the children standing behind him, Allen said, ‘Girls, make your curtsies to your guardian. Colonel, may I present to you Miss Elizabeth Glendenning, the elder, and Miss Sophie Glendenning, the younger.’

No, this couldn’t be happening.

Refusing to look at the children as they dutifully made their curtsies, Hugh stared at Mr Allen. ‘My cousin’s solicitor informed me that Robert had named me guardian for the girls. As their closest remaining relative, I felt obligated to accept the task and was prepared to oversee the management of their inheritance until they came of age or married—in St Kitts. There was never any mention of the children being brought to England.’

While Mrs Allen drew in a sharp breath, Mr Allen looked at Hugh, his expression incredulous. ‘You...were not expecting them?’

‘Certainly not!’ Hugh said. ‘And had I been consulted, I would never have authorised them to leave St Kitts. Why would they wish to? That has been their home all their lives.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Mr Allen said, looking alarmed. ‘I’m very sorry! We were given to understand that all had been arranged in advance. This is most distressing!’

‘Indeed,’ Hugh replied with feeling. ‘I suppose there is no possibility of you returning the girls to St Kitts?’

‘None at all,’ Mr Allen confirmed. ‘As I mentioned, we are removing to Yorkshire permanently, and have no plans to return to the islands.’

‘Perhaps they could go with you to Yorkshire,’ Hugh said, searching about for any solution that did not require him taking over their care. ‘As I recall, my cousin left ample funds for their maintenance and upbringing. Surely they would be more comfortable in a land so foreign to them if they lived with people who know and care about them, rather than with a total stranger. A childless widower to boot.’

Although once he had been neither...

The Allens exchanged uncomfortable glances. ‘The Misses Glendenning hardly know us better than they do you, Colonel. We only met them the day the ship sailed from St Kitts.’

Though he was nearly seething with fury and distaste, Hugh hadn’t been a soldier for fifteen years without learning how to take responsibility for duties shirked by another—or recognising when a position was untenable. ‘I suppose they shall have to stay, then.’

Looking visibly relieved, Mr Allen nodded. ‘I’m sure that will be for the best.’

The butler arrived with their tea. For the next ten minutes, Hugh nodded as Mr Allen made desultory conversation. He sipped at his own tepid liquid, wishing it was his prized Scotch, all the while thinking furiously.

There was no way he could undertake the care of two little girls. After all that had happened, the idea was simply unendurable.

The housekeeper would have to look out for them until he could hire a suitable governess. With any luck, he’d be able to avoid seeing them more than once or twice a month—until they were grown and gone.

Even better, after more reflection upon the matter, he might come up with some appropriately placed female to whom he could send the children for their upbringing. After all, governess or not, the care of two small girls should be overseen by a woman, shouldn’t it?

Speaking of females, the Allens were finishing their tea and making departing noises—and his housekeeper still hadn’t arrived.

Very well, he could stand being alone with them for a few moments. Fortunately, they were a mannerly pair, for they had stood stock-still and silent ever since Allen introduced them.

All too soon, putting down his empty cup, Mr Allen said, ‘We are much obliged for the refreshments and hospitality—especially after the shock of springing the children upon you with no advance notice! I can’t imagine what happened to the correspondence from Mrs Glendenning arranging their travel.’

‘Nor can I,’ Hugh said drily. Though he had a pretty good idea what had happened to the ‘missing’ letters. His cousin’s second wife obviously had no interest in caring for the children of her predecessor; sending them unannounced precluded the refusal he would have returned, had his permission been sought.

Despite his rage at having this charge foisted on him, he felt an inadvertent pang of sympathy for the two girls. They’d lost their own mother upon the younger child’s birth and now, so soon after the death of their father, they’d been exiled from the only home they’d ever known.

He’d have to scour his London papers tonight and find an agency to provide him a governess with all possible speed.

By now, his guests had risen, obligating him to rise as well.

‘We’ll be going now, girls,’ Mrs Allen said, kneeling to embrace the two in turn. ‘You must be as good for your new guardian as you’ve been for us.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ the two said in unison, while the older added, ‘Thank you for watching over us on the journey, Mrs Allen.’

Walking with the Allens to the door—very conscious of the two pairs of small eyes following his movements—Hugh said, ‘I wish you a safe homecoming.’

‘Very kind of you, Colonel,’ Mr Allen said. ‘We’ll be that glad to see our little stone cottage again, won’t we, my dear?’

So, with a handshake and a murmured goodbye from the wife, the Allens departed.

Hugh lingered in the doorway, but there still was no sign of an approaching housekeeper. If the damned woman didn’t show up in the next few minutes, he was going to have to escort the girls down to the kitchen himself.

Taking a deep breath, Hugh turned around, the wave of anguish that washed through him as he forced himself to look at the girls less sharp than the first time, when he’d been taken unawares. Every step a painful duty, he paced towards the children, who were still standing silently by the sofa.

Halfway there, it suddenly occurred to him that he should approach more slowly and put a smile on his face. A man as large as he was probably would look frightening, wearing the frown that usually furrowed his brow.

As disturbed as he was about this unwanted burden, the two little girls must be even more upset. Tired and hungry, probably still grieving for their Papa, feeling lost and possibly terrified at having been plucked from everything that was familiar, ferried across an ocean and deposited like an unwanted parcel on the doorstep of someone they’d never met.

He knew a little something about feeling tired, lost and grieving.

Halting before them, he knelt, bringing his face almost down to the level of theirs. Despite his attempt to make his movements as unthreatening as possible, the younger girl shrank back against her sister.

‘Elizabeth and Sophie, isn’t it?’ he asked. ‘Your papa used to come here and play with me when we were boys. I know it must look very different from home, but I hope to make you comfortable here.’

Until I can make alternative arrangements—the sooner, the better.

Adding another curse on the head of the still-absent housekeeper, he continued, ‘Shall we go to the kitchen and get you something to eat? Then Mrs Wallace, my housekeeper, will take you up to the nursery and get you settled. It hasn’t been used since my brother and I were boys, so you will have to help her make it presentable again.’

For a moment, the two simply stared at him—two pairs of large, bright blue eyes in frightened faces. Then the elder said, ‘You don’t want us either, do you?’

In a flash, he remembered how honest children were, spitting out exactly what they thought with no subterfuge. Accurate as that statement was, he didn’t mean to make the situation worse by confirming it.

‘Well, it wasn’t—ideal, sending you here unannounced, with no time for us to prepare for you, was it? But we shall all muddle through.’

‘She didn’t want us either. Madame Julienne, Papa’s new wife. She was nice to us before baby Richard came. But after...’ The child took a shuddering breath. ‘She wouldn’t even let us see Papa after he got so sick.’

His cousin had died of some tropical fever, Hugh vaguely remembered. ‘Probably because she didn’t want you to get sick, too.’

‘Papa told us you were his best cousin. That you were a brave soldier in In-dee-yah. When Madame Julienne sent us away, she said you would w-want us.’ Tears welled up in Elizabeth’s eyes and little Sophie was already soundlessly weeping.

Hugh knew he ought to embrace the girls—if they’d let him. Reassure them. But as much as he felt for their pain and loss, he couldn’t quite force himself to touch them.

So, trying to summon soothing words, he said, ‘You mustn’t be afraid. I was a soldier, just like your papa told you, so I know all about protecting. You’ll be safe here and we will look after you.’

He hadn’t done such a wonderful job of protecting his own child, he thought, another wave of anger rolling through him. But this was England, not a hot, exotic land full of poisonous plants, reptiles and dangerous diseases that could snuff out a child’s life between sunset and midnight. Though he’d sworn he’d never take responsibility for a child again, surely he could tolerate watching over them until he could turn them over to a suitable female.

At last, Mrs Wallace’s tall, austere figure appeared at the door. After rapping, she walked over to peer down at where he still knelt beside the children—whom she swept with a disapproving glance.

‘Mansfield said you wanted me, Colonel?’

Rising, Hugh bit back a sharp reply. No point taking his aggravation out on the housekeeper, even though he knew Mansfield would have already told her about the Allens and what had transpired in the library. Hugh had no doubt she knew full well what he wanted.

‘Mrs Wallace, may I present Elizabeth and Sophie Glendenning, my late cousin’s daughters. They are to be staying with us at Somers Abbey for a time. They’ve had a long journey and, I’m sure, could do with some bread and soup before they go up to bed. Take them to the kitchen, please, and see to them.’

The housekeeper’s gaze swept from the huddled children back to Hugh. ‘I don’t deal with children, Colonel.’

The last of his patience unravelling, Hugh snapped, ‘Well, you’re going to have to, at least until I can hire a governess. See them fed and settled in, at once!’

‘Very well.’ Glowering, the housekeeper curtsied to him. ‘Come along, children.’

Though Hugh didn’t much like turning the girls over to a cold stick like Mrs Wallace, his skeleton-staffed bachelor household didn’t offer many alternatives.

He’d write to a hiring agency at once. Fortunately, Robert had left ample funds for his children’s care, so Hugh could demand their most superior candidate and pay extra to have her travel by private coach, so she might arrive at Somers Abbey with all possible speed.

It was the best he could do, under the circumstances. Stalking back to his desk, he flung himself into the chair, noting grimly that his hands were trembling. Doubtless from the shock of having a raw wound ripped open. Drawing in a shaky breath, he took out the bottle of Scotch and poured himself a full glass.

Chapter Three

Slightly more than a week later, as the evening shadows blurred the view from her coach window, Olivia craned her neck to catch a glimpse of her new employer’s residence. ‘Somers Abbey’, she’d read on the note of introduction the agency had given her—and the pile of grey stone she could just perceive in the hazy distance certainly looked the part of a medieval manor wrenched from the grip of a religious community by a greedy monarch.

She had to shiver, just looking at it. Not a very welcoming appearance. Perhaps the two orphaned girls she had been sent to care for found it a place of wonders, with priest’s holes to hide in and long, rambling corridors to run through.

She’d never been around children much. Stirring uneasily, she hoped they would get along.

As the carriage drew to a halt, she tried to subdue the nervous foreboding in the pit of her belly. She was no shrinking young miss, but a well-educated, intelligent, competent young woman who had managed her mother’s household for years. She could handle a nursery and two little girls.

Besides, she had insisted the employment contract run for only six months. She could bear anything for six months. Although she would then return to London, as she’d promised Sara again when they exchanged their final tearful goodbyes, she didn’t expect anything would happen to change her circumstances. She would still be on her own, forced to find a new position to earn her bread.

And earning about as much as, in her former life, she would have spent on a ball gown without thinking twice about it.

But reflecting on that would do no more good than giving in to her distress over leaving her home and the last close friend she had in the world. There was no possibility of going back; she could only move forward.

The hired carriage halted before the entrance. Marshalling all her resolve, she descended from the vehicle.

Her knock was answered by an elderly butler, whose livery looked as shabby as the worn carpet in the entry hall. ‘Miss Overton, I presume?’

‘Yes. Would you announce me to the Colonel? I should like to present my credentials before he takes me to meet the children.’

‘This way, Miss Overton. I’ll have your trunk conveyed to your room.’

Wondering where she would be received—probably in an office or study, not in the parlour reserved for guests, certainly—she followed the man down the hallway and into what looked to be an older section of the house, all stone walls and dark wood panelling.

He stopped before an ancient, solid oak door. After struggling to open it, he intoned, ‘Miss Overton, Colonel.’

Ruthlessly quelling her nervousness, Olivia walked in to meet her new employer, who rose as she entered.

Encouraged by that gesture of respect—as he was receiving a mere employee, not a lady of the ton, he might well have retained his seat—she looked up at him squarely.

Tall and ash blond, with a rigidly upright bearing that proclaimed his military background, the Colonel cut an impressive figure—and was much younger than she’d expected. Having learned her employer had served his military career in India, she assumed he’d returned to England to retire. Though weariness lined his sunburned face, the man before her was in his middle thirties, at most.

Belatedly realising that she had been staring, Olivia pulled herself together. ‘Good evening, Colonel,’ she said, dropping him a curtsy.

‘Miss Overton,’ he acknowledged her with an incline of his head. ‘Won’t you take a seat? That will be all, Mansfield.’

Initially taken aback, she squelched the reaction, reminding herself she had been ushered into this man’s presence merely to have her credentials examined and be given whatever instruction he deemed necessary prior to taking up her work. She shouldn’t expect to be entertained or offered refreshment.

Yet the stark contrast with the warm hospitality she’d been offered upon her arrival at every other stately house she’d ever visited brought her close to tears.

You will accustom yourself. You must. And you’re not going to turn weak and faint-hearted at the very first hurdle.

Willing herself to calm, she walked over and handed him the documents the hiring agency had made up for her, then took the chair he indicated in front of his desk. ‘These should confirm what the agency already informed you about my background.’

Scanning the papers, he nodded. ‘Yes, I see that you were well educated at a private ladies’ academy. You are capable of teaching English, literature, mathematics, geography, French, Italian, music and proper deportment? I see also that you have excellent references from several titled ladies.’

Who were once my mentors and friends.

‘Yes.’

He nodded. ‘That sounds suitable, though I can’t claim to know anything about what young ladies should be taught. How much did the agency tell you about your charges’ circumstances?’

‘Just their ages, the fact that they had recently been orphaned and that their new guardian, a military gentleman who served in India, had requested a superior candidate be sent to Somers Abbey with utmost dispatch.’

The Colonel sighed. ‘The reality is slightly more complicated. About six months ago, my cousin, who owns—owned—an estate at St Kitts in the Caribbean, wrote asking that I act as guardian to his daughters. My cousin being a young man, I had no expectation of actually having to take up that charge. Even after learning of his unexpected death, I assumed I would be required to do nothing more than manage their inheritance. Instead, with neither my knowledge nor my consent, my cousin’s second wife sent the girls to England. They arrived here unannounced about a week ago.’

Olivia stared. ‘You had no idea they were coming?’

‘None, else I would have made other arrangements. I fear, in its present condition, Somers Abbey could hardly be less suitable as a home to shelter and raise two little girls. The estate I inherited from my elder brother had been...neglected, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed. In the eighteen months since returning from India, I have been doing everything I can to restore it to proper condition, which requires long hours of work and has forced economies that required me to reduce the staff to a bare minimum. I have neither wife nor mother to undertake their guidance and my household staff includes exactly four females—the cook, the housekeeper, a tweeny and one maid-of-all-work.’

‘Which explains your haste to hire a governess,’ Olivia said.

After giving her a sharp look—perhaps he didn’t expect a mere employee to interrupt his explanation with a comment?—he continued, ‘Unfortunately, I have no close female kin to whom I could send the girls, which is why they are still at Somers Abbey. I am in the process of making further enquiries, in hopes of finding them a more suitable situation. I tell you all this so you may understand that, although you were hired for a six-month period, it’s quite possible the term of your employment will be much shorter. After agreeing to journey here in such haste, you will, of course, be compensated for the full six months, whether or not whoever takes over the supervision of the children decides to retain you as their governess.’

She might be free—before the end of six months. Free to return to London with the whole of her pittance in her pocket!

Where, of course, she would simply have to secure a new position.

‘So I am to do my best for them until some genteel lady agrees to supervise their care. I suppose I shall also work with the maid or nurse who accompanied them from the Caribbean.’

‘They were not sent with a maid or nurse.’

Surprised, she said, ‘Who cared for them during their long journey?’

‘A couple returning to England—whom they had not previously met before the journey began.’

Olivia angled her head at him, frowning. ‘They travelled all alone across the ocean without a single companion they knew? Those poor little mites! They must have been terrified! Surely they had a nurse at home. Why was she not sent—?’

As the Colonel raised his eyebrows, Olivia realised that, once again, she was questioning her employer as an equal, rather than merely listening, as befitted an employee. With difficulty, she pressed her lips together and went silent.

‘A good question to which I doubt there is a charitable answer,’ he said drily. ‘You are...rather outspoken, are you not? The governesses I encountered in India all seemed to be meek, retiring creatures who barely had a word to say for themselves.’

‘I’m afraid I’m not at all retiring, Colonel. I ran my mother’s household until...until her recent demise and am quite used to being in charge.’