Page 26 of The Defiant Governess
Mrs. Fairchild was watching her face. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all. How very … thoughtful of Lord Saybrook.”
“He always has been, you know, even as a boy. Not a tenant on his lands wants for warm clothing and enough food. Takes care of his own, he does.”
“Well, I’mnothis,” she muttered.
“What was that, dear?”
“Nothing, nothing. Pardon me for interrupting your tea. I think I shall return to my room until supper.”
“Enjoy the dress,” called Mrs. Fairchild. “Mister Edward thinks it should only need a little altering in the bodice.”
Jane choked back a very unlady-like oath.How dare he scrutinize her … proportions!He must consider himself quite well acquainted with the female form to make such a comment.Granted, she hadn’t heard even a whisper to indicate that he was one of those gentlemen who sought to dally with his servants. But if he thought a dress would sweeten her up …
She slammed her door with vehemence. The sound was startling, even to herself, and she hoped no one else had overheard such a fit of pique.
Turning toward the bed, Jane looked at the dress again. With a pang of guilt she realized she wanted to keep it very much. How wonderful it would be to ride properly attired! So she would keep it, she decided as she fingered the soft material. And just let him try to claim any advantage of it.
Her chin jutted forward. She almost looked forward to thanking him.
Her chance came laterthat evening. After reading to Peter, she came back downstairs to fetch a fresh candle for her room and passed the library. The door was half open and she could see Saybrook reading by the fire, his long legs stretched out to catch the flickering warmth. He had removed his coat and sat in his shirtsleeves, cravat loosened and hair falling low over his forehead. Impulsively, she knocked on the door—rather loudly it seemed to her own ears.
Saybrook called for her to enter without looking up from his book. Even as she approached the fire he didn’t so much as turn his head. It was only when she cleared her throat in impatience that he raised his eyes from the pages.
“Yes, Miss Langley?” His face was expressionless, with only the eyebrows slightly arched in question.
“I …” Jane was flustered by his quiet demeanor. If he had looked at all smug or had smirked knowingly, she would have verbally boxed his ears. But this …
“I …” she began again.
“Yes?”
“I wish to thank you for the riding habit. It was very … generous of you.” The words came out sounding more stilted than she meant.
“Actually, it was very selfish.”
It was Jane's turn to look questioningly.
“Couldn’t abide the sight of those flapping, drab skirts,” he continued. “Likely to spook my horses and cause serious injury.”
Jane felt a burn of indignation rise inside of her. “You don’t approve of my dress?”
He looked her slowly up and down, pointedly taking in the shapeless mouse-brown dress buttoned to the neck and the severe bun with nary a ringlet to soften the effect. Then, as if satisfied that he had seen enough, he began reading again. “Hideous,” he murmured.
“It is proper dress for a governess,” she retorted.
“Is it? Well, why those of your profession insist on dressing in such a dowdy, unflattering manner is no concern of mine.”
“There are reasons, sir, that it is considered proper.”
“No doubt.” He still didn’t look up. “But you needn’t fear for your virtue in this house, I assure you.”
Jane was left feeling she was coming out decidedly the worse in this encounter. Summoning what little dignity she had remaining, she turned with a swish of her skirts.
“Good night, sir. Let me not keep you from your reading. It appears to bemostengrossing,” she called as she stalked from the room.
“Good night, Miss Langley.”
