Page 6 of Her Beautiful Bastard
“That is correct,” she confirmed, sweeping into the vestibule and turning to face the man as he closed the door.
“I shall see you directly to his office,” the butler offered. “But first, may I take your things?”
Untying the ribbons of her bonnet, she carefully lifted it off her head and handed it to the man, but opted to keep her pale yellow spencer on over its matching walking gown. She did remove her gloves and gave him those, as well, then smoothed a hand over her chignon.
After handing her effects off to a silent footman, the butler gestured toward a corridor that led deeper into the house. “Right this way, Miss.”
She followed him, taking a cursory glance at her surroundings. She had certainly been in more opulent homes, and Buckton was not even half the size of Oakmoor, but she found it no less impressive. Expensive wallpaper, painted ceilings, elegant wainscoting, thick, Aubusson rugs, and tasteful wall art, all portraying wealth and status. The Clayton family, who owned Buckton, gained their wealth primarily from the cherry orchard stretching out from the back of the manor for miles upon miles. However, Katherine Eggleston had told her that Mr. Sinclair Clayton was known to have a head for investments, many of his ventures turning up impressive profits. This country home was one of many owned by the Claytons, their vast holdings also including a seaside cottage in Brighton and a lavish townhome in London.
So similar to the other families she had served over the years, though she did hope they might prove different in one very important way. It was her hope that they would keep her on for more than a paltry few years. It had been difficult, moving from post to post for some reason or another. Her first family had disposed of her after their sons grew too old for a governess, needing a more appropriate tutor. Her second family had replaced her with a friend of a relation who had been in dire straits and, apparently, needed the room and board and funds more than Lydia did. Her third family had only employed her for a few short months before the lady of the house had deemed her far too ‘attractive’ to continue working for them—citing the wandering eye of her eldest boy, though Lydia suspected the woman was more afraid for her husband than her son.
She would find a home and a long-lasting position with a family if it killed her. Thus far, the Claytons seemed like her best prospect.
The butler came to a stop at a door halfway down the corridor and knocked. A male voice bid them to enter, and the servant led her inside. The small space boasted shelves upon shelves of what appeared to be ledgers for the keeping of household accounts. A large desk took up most of the available space, covered in papers and open books, as well as several quills and an inkwell. Two immense windows allowed in plenty of light and offered a picturesque view of the orchard, as well as the house grounds and woods in the distance.
A man dressed in the typical austere attire of an upper servant stood from behind the messy desk, a wide smile stretching across his face. Not overly handsome, but not plain, either, he possessed short blond hair and twinkling blue eyes, the lines around them indicating he smiled often. Lydia found it easy to smile back as he rounded the desk and came toward her with one hand extended.
“Miss Darling, I presume,” he said in a light, pleasant voice.
“Mr. Welby,” she replied, placing her hand in his. “I do hope I am not too early for our appointment.”
He shook her hand, his grip firm but gentle. “No, not at all. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Mr. Welby nodded to the butler, communicating silently. The butler inclined his head and backed from the room, leaving the door open and disappearing back down the corridor.
Lydia took one of the two chairs facing the desk and sat, folding her hands in her lap. “Thank you for meeting with me. I take it the position of governess has not yet been filled?”
Lowering himself into the chair, he began rearranging his desk—stopping the inkwell, then shuffling a handful of documents. “Not yet, and I must admit that we have become quite desperate at this point.”
Thank God.
She would hate to be the only desperate person in such an arrangement. If the Claytons were hard up for a governess, then she’d arrived at just the right time.
“Do not worry,” he added. “I will take you to meet with Lady Clayton in a moment, as the decision to hire you will be hers, in the end. However, as Mr. Clayton’s steward here at Buckton, it is my duty to vet all the potential household staff and conduct the preliminary interview.”
Reaching into the pocket of her gown, she came out with the sealed letters she’d brought with her, reaching out over the desk to hand them to Mr. Welby.
“My references,” she declared once he glanced up and noticed what she presented. “Three families who can vouch for my education and experience.”
He accepted the sealed letters, but did not bother to open them, placing the missives on his desk. Leaning back in his seat, he inclined his head at her.
“The letter from Mrs. Eggleston was good enough for me, if you do not mind me saying so,” he told her. “Though, Mr. Clayton and Lady Clayton may wish to read them. I understand that you have served as a governess for four years.”
“Yes,” she said with a little nod. “Unfortunately, my first families outgrew me. It is my hope to find a more longstanding arrangement.”
“I would imagine that is not the only reason you might have been let go from your former households,” he said, startling her with his bluntness.
Her eyes widened, and she sat up straighter, her mouth going dry. “I beg your pardon?”
Clearing his throat, Mr. Welby leaned forward, bracing his arms on the desk and folding his hands together. “Forgive me, I only meant that a young, attractive woman such as yourself must suffer the envy of her employers from time to time. Many a governess has found herself sacked for the simple reason that she is lovely enough to attract the notice of the men of the house.”
Her face flushed, and she lowered her gaze to her hands. However, Mr. Welby’s voice remained light and filled with good humor when he spoke again.
“Allow me to put you at ease, Miss Darling. You shall hardly have such a problem here. There are no adult male relations living at Buckton. Mr. Clayton divides his time between various estates, and because this place runs itself efficiently without his constant management, he does not spend much time here. As well, he is a man above reproach, a man you needn’t fear making untoward advances on your person. Also, Lady Clayton … well, you shall have to meet her for yourself. But, I daresay you will understand right away why you needn’t worry about petty jealousy when it comes to her. We need a governess, Miss Darling, and as you seem to be the most qualified for the position, may I be so bold as to welcome you to the household?”
Lydia lifted her gaze to find him smiling at her again, his eyes twinkling merrily. He was handsome in an unassuming way, and she found him charming. The steward at her last home had been an insufferable snob, so this would be a pleasant change.
“Already?” she asked, still slightly taken aback.
