The Nobleman's Governess Bride (The Glass Slipper Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  If only he had left it at a simple apology.

  Grace’s stomach seethed over his suggestion that they meet late in the evening to discuss her duties. She would have preferred he stay vexed with her. At least that might have provided an extra layer of protection against any unwelcome attention from her new employer.

  “God bless Papa.” A fervent note in Sophie’s small voice made it clear she believed she was speaking directly to her Heavenly Father, who listened with perfect attention, as ready to grant her requests as her doting Papa. “And God bless Charlotte and Phoebe and Mamzell“

  When Sophie paused, her father leaned close and whispered something in her ear, after which she continued, “God, bless Miss Ella and help us behave well so she will want to stay at Nethercross. Amen.”

  Did his lordship truly believe she might leave because his daughters behaved badly? If only he knew she was far more concerned about his behavior. Not that he had given her any reason to be… yet.

  “Sleep well.” Sophie’s father tucked the bedclothes around her then pressed a kiss on her forehead. “And sweet dreams.”

  “Thank you, Papa.” The child replied in a drowsy murmur. “Will you come and hear our prayers again tomorrow night?”

  His lordship flinched slightly at his daughter’s request and cast a furtive glance toward Grace. “Perhaps I will. I reckon I should visit the nursery more often. At least until Miss Ellerby grows more accustomed to our ways.”

  Much as Grace wished he would keep his distance, she knew she should welcome his presence for the sake of his young daughters. It would not be easy for them when their father went away to London for days at a time, while they tried to become accustomed to a new governess.

  When Lord Steadwell bid her good-night, Grace bobbed a curtsey and wished him the same. The instant the door closed behind him, she pulled off her spectacles and rubbed her tired eyes. Would she ever get used to wearing this dowdy disguise? She comforted herself with the reminder that his lordship would soon be away from Nethercross during the week. She would not need to maintain such a heightened state of vigilance then.

  Eager to get to bed after her long day, Grace checked to make certain the girls were settled for the night. She found Phoebe faced toward the wall, though she sensed the child was not asleep. For a moment she stood quietly watching and listening until a heave of Phoebe’s shoulders and a covert sniffle betrayed the child’s distress. Grace recognized the signs all too well. How often had she shed a few tears at the end of a hard day at school, forced to muffle her sobs from a dormitory full of girls?

  Though part of her wanted to respect Phoebe’s privacy, the need to relieve the child’s misery was far stronger.

  She settled herself on the edge of Phoebe’s bed. “It was very brave of you to speak to your father on my behalf. Very brave and very kind.”

  The bedclothes over Phoebe’s shoulder rippled as she gave a shrug. “I wish I didn’t have to. Now Papa will never let me go say good-night to Jem. The last one he sees will always be P-Peter. My pony will think he belongs to the stable boy and not to m-me!”

  “What made you speak up then, if you knew there might be such unpleasant consequences?” Grace’s gratitude was mixed with puzzlement.

  Another shrug. “I knew Papa would put a stop to my stable visits anyway once he found out. And it wasn’t fair for you to get in trouble for what I did. I’m sorry I made Papa angry with you on your first day here.”

  “Apology accepted.” Grace ran a hand over the child’s shoulder in a sympathetic caress. Already she felt more attached to Phoebe than to any of the children she’d taught before. None of them would have hesitated to make her the scapegoat for their misbehavior. “I understand how your feelings for your pony made you do what you might not have otherwise.”

  “You do?” Phoebe gave a loud sniffle.

  “Yes.” Much as she’d feared getting into trouble at school, Grace had broken a number of rules over the years for the sake of her friends. “I cannot promise anything, but I will speak to your father about finding a way to let you spend more time with Jem.”

  “You will? Why?” The child rolled toward Grace. Her eyes and nose were red and swollen and her hair a horrible tangle. Somehow it was a more endearing sight than any pampered, perfectly groomed youngster. “And why did you try to take part of the blame after I told Papa the truth?”

  “For the same reason as you, I suppose—because it was fair and true.” A thought popped into Grace’s mind of a lesson she’d learned at school—one the teachers had surely not intended to instill. “And perhaps because I thought your father could not be quite so angry at either one of us if he was angry at both.”

  Phoebe seemed intrigued by that notion. “It worked... a little at least. Do you reckon you can persuade Papa about Jem?”

  “I’m not certain.” The last thing Grace wanted to do was disappoint the child. “Your father seems to be a very strong-willed man with firmly fixed ideas—especially when it comes to the welfare of you and your sisters. But I will try.”

  “Papa treats me as if I’m no older than Sophie,” Phoebe grumbled, “when I’m almost eleven.”

  Brooding on grievances against her father would not help the child sleep well.

  “Why don’t you sit up and let me fix your hair,” Grace suggested. “I’m sure you will rest much more comfortably if it is a bit neater.”

  Phoebe heaved herself up, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her nightdress while Grace fetched a hairbrush. “I hope you will not be like Mademoiselle, always harping at me about my looks. There are lots more important things.”

  “There are, indeed,” Grace agreed fervently as she brushed out the girl’s wild dark locks and twined them into a pair of neat braids. “All I will ask is that you try to keep tidy. You wouldn’t want to have your pony going about with his coat uncurried and his mane and tail all matted, would you?”

  Phoebe shook her head violently as she lay back down. “Then people might think I didn’t take proper care of Jem.”

  “Just so.” Grace tucked the bedclothes around her new pupil. “I know I would hate to have people think I did not take proper care of you and your sisters—your father especially. You can understand that, can’t you?”

  Phoebe gave a vague murmur of agreement.

  “I thought you would.” Grace had an urge to kiss the child good-night but sensed it might be too soon for such familiarity. Instead, she settled for resting her hand on Phoebe’s head. “That is the good sense I would expect from a young lady of nearly eleven.”

  Her comment seemed to please Phoebe, who snuggled into her pillow with a little grin.

  As Grace retired to her own quarters and began to unpack her meager possessions, she congratulated herself on having made progress with at least one of Lord Steadwell’s daughters. She knew better than to suppose the other two would be so easy to win over.

  As for their father, she would feel a great deal more comfortable at Nethercross once he went away to London.

  Chapter Four

  “YOU SEEM TO be settling in quite well at Nethercross, Miss Ellerby.” Rupert motioned her toward a brocade armchair in the drawing room. “After that regrettable incident last evening, I hope Phoebe is minding you better.”

  “Yes, sir.” The governess took the seat he had indicated, her posture as prim and stiff as her ugly starched cap, with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “We are getting on quite well. She is a delightful child.”

  A note of genuine warmth crept into Miss Ellerby’s voice.

  “She is?” Rupert sank onto a nearby chair. “I mean, of course she is. Though I must admit I did not expect you to see that side of her quite so soon. Mademoiselle Audet found her something of a handful. And I have had more difficulty with Phoebe than with her sisters. You may have noticed she is strong-willed and not particularly biddable.”

  “Phoebe has great spirit.” Though Miss Ellerby seemed to agree with him, she put a rather different emphasis
on his daughter’s temperament. “She is open, brave and truthful. Not many girls her age would have risked your displeasure on behalf of a stranger as she did for me last night.”

  “I suppose not.” He’d been so concerned with Phoebe’s heedless behavior that he had not stopped to consider how admirable it was of her to confess the truth. “Still, I hope she has obeyed my orders to stay out of the stables in the evening. You made certain she did not sneak out?”

  Miss Ellerby’s pale brows knit together in an indignant frown. “I do not believe Phoebe would ever do that, sir. She might be pushed to outright defiance but not deception.”

  “Pushed? Are you insinuating that I provoke my daughter to misbehave?” Rupert bristled at the thought. “I have known Phoebe from the day she was born. You only met her yesterday.”

  The sharpness of his tone made Miss Ellerby recoil slightly, but she refused to back down. “That is true, sir. Perhaps your memories of her as a young child may have blinded you to the fact that Phoebe is growing up. When you give her orders or impose punishment without respecting her feelings, she thinks you are treating her like a much younger child and she resents it a good deal.”

  “She does?” Much as he would have liked to dismiss Miss Ellerby’s comments, Rupert could not deny their ring of truth. “My daughter needs to realize that respect must be earned.”

  The governess’s tightly pursed lips relaxed a little. “That is what I told Phoebe, and she seemed to understand. Do you not think her truthfulness last night merits some respect? I certainly do.”

  “Perhaps.” Rupert wondered where all this might lead. “What do you propose?”

  Though Miss Ellerby seemed pleasantly surprised by his question, she had an answer ready. “I believe you should demonstrate your respect by giving Phoebe a little more freedom and allowing her to prove she can make responsible use of it.”

  “What sort of freedom?” Rupert could not hide his reluctance. He wanted to keep his daughters safe. Freedom brought risks.

  “Give her permission to visit her pony before bed.”

  “Out of the question.” Rupert sprang to his feet and began to pace back and forth behind his chair. “Did you not heed a word I said last night about the trouble it could lead to?”

  “I certainly did.” Miss Ellerby sounded rather intimidated by his resistance but determined to prevail all the same. “That is why I would suggest a firm time limit, which might be extended if Phoebe proves she can abide by it. Of course, she would have to be accompanied by a trusted servant to make certain she does not come to any harm or get into fights with stable boys.”

  Rupert clenched his jaw in an effort to conceal any sign that he might be weakening. How was it that this mousy governess tested his stubborn resolve? Could it be because he sensed they both wanted the same thing, only their approach to the problem differed? Even then, she seemed to understand his concerns and tried to address them.

  “I will give the matter some thought.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Miss Ellerby’s tight-pressed lips blossomed into a radiant smile that disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving Rupert to wonder if he’d only imagined it.

  “Do you mean it, Miss Ellerby?” The smile that illuminated Phoebe’s face when she learned of Lord Steadwell’s decision was so bright it made Grace’s eyes sting a little. “I can go back to visiting Jem before bedtime?”

  “That is what your father said.”

  Ever since Phoebe had woken that morning, she’d been aquiver to find out about Grace’s conversation with her father. Grace thought a delay in satisfying the child’s curiosity might help her understand what a valuable opportunity she’d been granted.

  “Thank you!” The girl threw her arms around Grace and squeezed so hard it threatened to crack her ribs. “I never thought you’d be able to persuade Papa.”

  Grace gasped to recover the breath Phoebe’s violent embrace had driven from her lungs. “He did set some conditions and it is very important you abide by them. You must always take Bessie with you and you can only stay ten minutes to begin with. If you prove you can be trusted to behave responsibly, he may be willing to grant you more privileges.”

  “I will!” Phoebe loosened her crushing grip. “I promise.”

  Grace adjusted her cap, which the child had knocked askew in her excitement. “I suspect your father would also like you to apply yourself to your studies.”

  His lordship had not mentioned any such thing, but surely it was worth making the most of Phoebe’s gratitude.

  The child nodded eagerly. “That won’t be hard. You make studies more interesting than Mademoiselle ever did with all that tiresome needlework and music practice. I enjoy ciphering figures and learning about faraway places.”

  “Mademoiselle did a fine job.” Charlotte muttered as she pulled on her gloves. “She taught us the sorts of accomplishments young ladies require, not all that arithmetic, history, and geography nonsense. Gentlemen do not admire dowdy bluestockings.”

  She looked up long enough to flick a dismissive glance from her governess to her sister. “Nor hoydens.”

  The child’s barb stung Grace, though not because of the suggestion that no gentleman would ever take an interest in her. She could imagine no greater blessing than to be ignored by every man she ever met. What troubled her was the claim that learning must be a detriment to women. Most of her former employers would have agreed with Charlotte. If Grace’s previous pupils had not included a few boys, her teaching skills might have seen little use.

  “Surely there must be some gentlemen who prefer ladies capable of clever conversation as well as the more conventional accomplishments.” She tossed off the comment lightly as she looked the girls over to make certain they were properly dressed and groomed for church.

  She did not want to be drawn into an argument with Charlotte, who seemed to enjoy contradicting her at every turn. Hard as she tried to focus on the child’s good qualities, which were numerous, Charlotte seemed resolved to dislike her. Worse yet, she was encouraging Sophie to follow her example.

  “Mademoiselle didn’t think so.” Charlotte fussed over Sophie, fastening the buttons on her pelisse. “And she managed to get herself a good husband, so she must know.”

  Though the girl’s tone made it sound as if she were not addressing anyone in particular, Grace felt the stab of her insinuation. Once upon a time, she had hoped that marriage might rescue her from the drudgery, indignity and insecurity of being a governess, the way the prince in Sophie’s story had rescued the servant heroine. To her dismay and heartbreak, she had learned that men attracted by her appearance did not have honorable intentions toward a young woman without fortune or connections.

  The pain of those memories made it impossible for Grace to let Charlotte’s remark pass without rebuttal. “Your father seems to think otherwise. Besides our discussion about Phoebe, we also talked at some length about what manner of instruction I should give you girls. He feels you would benefit from a more rigorous curriculum and I reckon you are all clever enough to manage it.”

  Invoking their adored father seemed to silence Charlotte on the subject. But her features settled into a scowl of such ferocity that Grace feared she might have won the battle only to lose the war.

  “How did you get Papa to agree, Miss Ellerby?” asked Phoebe as Grace retied her hair ribbons. “He hardly ever changes his mind once he’s made it up.”

  “Indeed?” Grace recalled something his lordship had said during their interview in Reading, about being stubborn. Was that why he had insisted on hiring her in spite of their mutual misgivings—because he had made up his mind and would not—or could not—change it? “I have found him to be a reasonable man who would do almost anything for the benefit of you and your sisters. I simply appealed to his reason and his affection for you.”

  It sounded so easy put that way. Grace recalled it had taken considerable persuasion on her part to overcome considerable reluctance on his. She was not certain which
surprised her more—Lord Steadwell’s willingness to reconsider his decision or her forceful insistence that he do so. She had never spoken out like that to any of her previous employers. Why had she risked it with him?

  And what was it about her that had made him change his mind? Certainly she had not employed any feminine wiles, as she’d often seen women use on their husbands. Whatever the cause, Grace could not help feeling rather flattered that she’d accomplished a feat few others had attempted and fewer still succeeded.

  “If we don’t get going soon, we shall be late for church.” Charlotte’s crisp pronouncement crashed upon Grace’s musing, prompting a guilty start.

  It was she who should have been watching the time and hurrying the girls along, not the other way around. In future, she must take care not to let her thoughts wander like that.

  “You are quite right, Charlotte.” She beckoned Phoebe and Sophie toward the door. “Come, girls. We do not want to keep your father waiting.”

  If she hoped her concession would soften Charlotte’s aversion to her, she was mistaken. The girl grasped Sophie by the hand and flounced off, leaving Grace and Phoebe to follow.

  “There you are.” Lord Steadwell tucked away his pocket watch when the four of them came trooping down the stairs. “I thought I might have to attend the service on my own.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir.” Glancing at his lordship over the top of her spectacles, Grace could not help but notice how handsome he looked this morning in a well-cut blue coat that complimented his tall, spare figure and distinguished features. “I shall be more attentive to the time after this.”

  He opened the door to usher her and the girls out. “Do not fret, Miss Ellerby. I realize this was your first Sunday morning getting all three of the girls ready for church. I am willing to make allowances.”

  “We were ready in plenty of time,” Charlotte grumbled as they walked toward the carriage and climbed in. “At least Sophie and I were. Phoebe made a mess of her ribbons, as usual. Then Miss Ellerby stood there staring off until I reminded her of the time.”