Page 56 of The Defiant Governess
The recollection of her reflection in the mirror brought a small smile to her face. Her aunt and cousin would be less than pleased, and though she cared not a whit for upstaging her relations, it was nice to be able to look attractive again. What a dowd the circumstances had forced her to be at Highwood.
A sigh slipped from her lips. She couldn’t help but wonder what the marquess would think of ...
A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. Thomas flung it open without waiting for an answer. “Still admiring yourself in the glass?” he teased, tapping his riding crop impatiently against his boot. “You promised to ride out with me to look at the new mill! Have you forgotten, or are you mesmerized by the sight of such perfection?”
“Don’t be a goose,” she retorted, coloring slightly. “I’m sorry, I was woolgathering for a moment. I’ll be down in a trice—Sarah has already laid out my habit.”
“Well hurry, then. The horses are saddled and waiting below.”
The two of them were off ten minutes later. With spirited mounts beneath them, eager for a rousing gallop, they quickly left the winding drive and cut out across the rolling meadows in the direction of the river.
So they missed seeing the smart carriage pulled by a perfectly matched set of bays pull into the entrance of Avanlea Park.
Eleven
William Coachman pulled the horses to a halt in the middle of the large courtyard and a young groom immediately ran to their head while another appeared to open the door of the coach.
“Peter, you must wait here with Briarly and William while I speak with the duke,” said Saybrook before he descended. He still had not told Peter whom they were seeking to visit. There would be time enough for that when plans were certain.
A stately butler, grey with age yet erect as a soldier, opened the massive oak door. “Yes?” he intoned with the questioning assurance of an old family retainer. Taking in the polished carriage with its crest on the door, its well-matched team, and then the tall, handsome gentleman before him with a quick, appraising glance, his bearing seemed to relax slightly. But the gaze he turned on the marquess was still forbidding.
Undaunted, Saybrook placed his card on the silver tray that was held out towards him. “Please convey my apologies for arriving unannounced, and ask the duke if he will see me on a most pressing matter.”
The butler bowed slightly and motioned him to come in. “If you will wait in the side parlor, milord, I will see if His Grace is at home.”
Saybrook glanced around at the quiet splendor of the room, taking in its rich appointments and elegant furniture. The duke, he noted, was a man of taste, with a purse to indulge his appreciation for quality. Light flooded in through soaring arched windows and glinted off a grand piano. He walked over to the instrument and ran his hand over the polished wood. There was a sudden catch in his breath when he saw the sheet music on the stand. It was a Mozart sonata, the same one that Jane had been striving to learn.
“The duke will see you now.”
Saybrook turned quickly and followed the butler out of the room.
The Duke of Avanlealeaned back in his chair and looked curiously at the engraved card before him.Saybrook.He had known the man’s father vaguely, but had never met the present marquess. Not that he hadn’t heard rumors. There had been whispers of a scandal concerning a married Viscountess, then a widowed Baroness, as well as talk of a general dissolute life. Yet others had said the young lord was a sober, serious man. The duke had had little chance to judge for himself, seeing as the marquess had spent most of the past few years on the Continent.
He drummed his fingers on his desk, wondering what ‘urgent’ matter Lord Saybrook wished to discuss with him? Could Thomas have gotten under the hatches and given him vowels for a gambling debt that he couldn’t pay off with his quarterly allowance?
Grimshaw knocked softly, then opened the door to admit the visitor. The duke was immediately struck by the natural grace of Saybrook’s bearing, despite a slight limp. It was rare in a man that tall and powerfully built. He was dressed plainly yet elegantly in buff breeches and dark waistcoat and jacket that bespoke Weston’s hand. His cravat was simply tied and no fobs or chains dangled from his middle. The effect was more striking than any of the fripperies sported by the pinks of theton.
The duke looked up into the marquess’s face, noting the firm chiseled mouth, high cheekbones and piercing eyes of indeterminate blue-green. The long dark hair accentuated a firm jaw, one that hinted at an equally firm will. He found himself thinking he could well believe the young lord had a reputation with the ladies.
His eyebrows raised in question. “Lord Saybrook, I have not had the pleasure.” He started to raise, but the marquess motioned for him to remain seated.
“Please do not rise on my account, Your Grace. And once again, accept my apologies for intruding upon you without warning.”
Avanlea smiled. “I admit to having my curiosity piqued, sir, for I can’t imagine what matter of yours can concern me—except if my son has …”
“No, it is nothing like that,” replied Saybrook quickly. He remained standing, even though Avanlea had waved for him to take a chair. A slight cough indicated how unsure he was as to how to go on. “Your Grace,” he finally said. “I believe you have a tenant family of long standing on your lands by the name of Langley.”
The duke nodded, even more mystified than before. “Yes. A good man. Both his father and grandfather have worked these lands.”
“And the daughter—the daughter grew up with yours, and they formed a fast friendship, despite their difference of rank.”
“Yes. Jane and Mary are best of friends.”
Saybrook paused. “Jane Langley has served the past number of months as governess to my ward.”
“What!” gasped the duke. “What did you say?”
“Jane Langley has been governess to my ward,” he repeated. “Though she has recently left my employ, I wish to express my … gratitude for all she has done for Peter.”
