Governess in Disguise: Historical Regency Romance Read online

  He would be quite happy to stay in bed and sleep until a more reasonable time.

  If only he could find a governess for Anna. She was twelve. She needed one. Thomas couldn’t teach her the lessons himself. But he was lucky if he kept hold of a governess for more than a couple of months. They all seemed to be keen enough for the walk at first, but then suddenly they said they were leaving, and practically ran away with no real explanation. Thomas was confused as to why. Anna was outspoken, but she was nice to them. He never treated them badly, as far as Thomas was aware. He didn’t even interact with them much. So why were they so scared of him?

  He would have to look farther afield. Maybe get his mother to interview them; she had a better sense of character than he did. He would trust her judgement when choosing someone to look after Anna.

  “Father?”

  “Hmm?”

  Anna had slowed Ada to a stop, staring out across the fields in front of them. Thomas rode up beside her.

  “What is it?”

  “We’ve got company. Look.”

  Anna pointed. Thomas squinted, and then he saw the two horses trotting along the path that they needed to take back to the house. One of the riders was a young man who looked terrified to be on the back of the horse. The other was a raven-haired woman, holding herself poised in the saddle as she cantered along the track.

  Thomas groaned. Not her again. That woman just would not leave him alone. If they had been anywhere near where she lived, it might be perceived that she was out for a ride with a chaperone. But they were nowhere near her home, and Thomas knew exactly why she was here. This wouldn’t be the first time he and Anna had encountered the raven-haired woman on their early morning rides.

  She just would not listen to the fact she was not welcome. Thomas could admire stubborn, at times, but this was something else. It made him want to scream.

  “Shall we go a different way?” Anna asked.

  “No, she’s already seen us, and she’ll just follow us.” Thomas glanced at his daughter as he urged his horse to keep moving, Anna’s horse falling into step beside him. “Just hold your tongue, Anna.”

  “You’ve never been bothered before.”

  “I’m not in the mood for another tantrum at this time of the morning. Lady Wilson’s shrieks will give me a headache for the rest of the day.” Thomas rubbed at his head. “My head is throbbing enough, as it is.”

  “She gives me headaches for a week.” Anna grumbled. “You’d think the amount of times you’ve told her to go away she would take the hint.”

  “Well, some women just won’t take no for an answer.” Thomas arched an eyebrow. “I know someone like that.”

  “At least I know when I’m not wanted.”

  There was that. Anna had more common sense than this grown woman Evelyn Wilson, who had got it into her head that she and Thomas were meant to be together. After having the suggestion poured into her ear, many years ago now, she had set her sights on Thomas. It was just a shame for her that Thomas already desired to marry Olivia Tinsdale, who had eventually become his wife.

  But that didn’t stop Evelyn. She followed him around, not caring that her husbands were often present, and she was being completely shameless. Olivia had objected to Evelyn’s presence, which had resulted in a public argument where Olivia had served all acquaintance with the woman.

  Evelyn completely ignored this, of course. Thomas had never known such tenacity in a woman. With her in particular, it was not a good quality.

  A widow herself now. Two husbands and fifteen years later. She was still adamant that she and Thomas were fated to finally be a couple. Thomas couldn’t get his head around that. No other person he knew was this slow on the uptake.

  He braced himself. Meeting Lady Evelyn Wilson this early in the morning when he was suffering from sleep deprivation was going to turn this into a bad day before the day had fully started.

  Chapter Two

  There was the rumbling of hooves, and then Evelyn drew alongside him. She gave him a bright smile, her eyes sparkling.

  “Thomas! What a surprise to find you out here.”

  “You know we go riding every morning, Lady Wilson,” Thomas said sharply. “And I don’t believe I permitted you to use my Christian name.”

  “Come on, Thomas. How long have we known each other? Fifteen years?”

  “You’re more than enough for fifteen minutes,” Anna snapped.

  Thomas bit back a groan. He had hoped Anna would hold back her retorts, but Anna’s impulse control, when it came to speaking her mind, was not admirable. His daughter was fiercely protective, and she made no qualms about declaring who she did and didn’t like. Evelyn had come under fire many times over the years, especially since Olivia died. His darling wife had managed to keep their daughter somewhat tame.

  Thomas wished he knew how to tame his daughter. He had no idea.

  Evelyn’s smile froze as she glanced at Anna. Then she sniffed and turned to Thomas.

  “Haven’t you taught her any discipline yet, Thomas? Women should not be so...brusque and allowed to get away with it.”

  “And women should understand when they’re not wanted,” Anna shot back.

  Thomas groaned and held up a hand. “Anna, please.” He looked back at Evelyn and said, “Kindly do not comment on my daughter, Lady Wilson, it is not your place. I’m the one raising my daughter.”

  “I know.” Evelyn sighed. She sounded almost convincing. “Such a shame. I’m sure a governess would be able to curb her tongue.”

  Anna snorted. “I’d like to see them try.”

  Thomas glared at her. Then he turned to glower at Evelyn. Why did she like to target Anna to make the girl respond? Thomas wasn’t entirely sure what she was up to with regards to that. Did she think Thomas would send Anna away if she goaded the girl too much?

  Thomas figured Evelyn didn’t like sharing him, although that left him bemused. He wasn’t about to be shared with anyone, least of all this woman.

  It was getting really tiresome.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the young man who had followed Evelyn. Probably one of her father’s footmen. He did not look happy to be here. Thomas straightened up in his saddle. At six-feet-five, even astride a horse he towered above everyone else.

  “What do you want, Lady Wilson?”

  “I was out for a ride and I saw you here.” Evelyn shrugged. “I thought I’d come and join you.”

  “We were on our way home.” Thomas urged his horse into a slightly quicker trot. “Come on, Anna. I suggest you carry on your morning ride alone, Lady Wilson. Good day to you”

  “Thomas…”

  But Thomas had already cantered on ahead, Anna close beside him. They headed down the slope and both horses broke into a gallop. Evelyn was known to be uncomfortable riding at speed, hopefully, she wouldn’t follow them.

  Others might call him callous and harsh for treating Evelyn in such a way, but they hadn’t been dealing with her for fifteen years.

  They reached the trees and headed along a path weaving through the copse on the edge of Thomas’ estate. It wasn’t a large estate, but it was enough for him and Anna. Glancing behind him, Thomas couldn’t see Evelyn or her chaperone. Hopefully, they weren’t following him. They had a reprieve, for now.

  “Honestly!” Anna huffed as she eased her horse into a walk. “Why is she so set on becoming Mrs. Andrews?”

  “It’s the fault of my grandmother, I’m afraid.” Thomas sighed. “Back in our first Season, she was trying to pick out a wife for me.”

  “She chose Lady Wilson?”

  “I’m afraid so. She thought Lady Wilson would be perfect, and put it into the woman’s head, it was quite a thing to untangle myself from, but I was already known to favour your mother. Even after two marriages and my obvious dislike for her, Lady Wilson still thinks it can happen.”

  There were days when Thomas cursed his grandmother, if he thought of her at all. The woman had been a busybody and a nightma
re of a relative. Even his mother despaired at her. At least Thomas didn’t have Evelyn’s parents coming after him demanding that he made an honest woman out of Evelyn. They had diverted her to other men, more convenient and profitable marriages, and those men had died within a few years. Evelyn was considered an unlucky woman to marry now.

  Thomas had no intention of becoming another dead husband.

  “It’s such a shame.” Anna sighed.

  “That wasn’t sarcasm, was it?”

  “No.”

  “Even if I did marry her, how would she be able to manage with you?” Thomas glanced at his daughter with a smirk. “I know you’d make it hard for her.”

  “She would make it hard for me.” Anna declared affronted. “She would make you choose between us. If a woman actually loved you, she wouldn’t do that.”

  “And in any case, there is no question about who I would choose.” Thomas leaned over and gently tugged his daughter’s locks. “You first and foremost.”

  Anna giggled and swatted his hand away. “That’s why I love you, Father.” She kicked Ada into moving. “Race you!”

  Before Thomas could respond, she was galloping off across the field. Shaking his head with a smile, Thomas set off after her.

  “Miss Hill?”

  Emilia looked up. Jenny was hovering in the doorway to her father’s study. The maid looked nervous. Emilia swallowed and retrieved her handkerchief. Her cheeks were wet, and her eyes were stinging. Jenny didn’t need to see this.

  “Jenny.” Emilie dabbed at her eyes. “What is it?”

  “Baron and Lady Chambers are here. They don’t have an appointment to visit, but I thought you might want to know.”

  Charlotte. She was here. Emilia rose to her feet and squared her shoulders.

  “Show them into the morning room, Jenny. I’ll be along in a moment.”

  “Very well, Miss Hill.”

  Jenny left. Emilia closed her eyes and took several slow deep breaths. Her father was dead. It had sunk in and hit Emilia in the gut. She felt lightheaded from her crying and her throat was sore. She felt like her breakfast was going to come back up. But Emilia knew no amount of crying was going to bring her father back. Any further crying was going to make her feel worse, so she needed to take a deep breath and step forward with this.

  Even though she wanted to go to her room and curl up under the sheets and cry some more.

  It took longer than she wanted to feel calm enough to leave Jonathan’s study, but Emilia managed. She had to look somewhat presentable. Looking distressed was understandable, given the situation, but Emilia didn’t think walking around looking like a bright-red tomato would look good.

  Her uncle could cut harshly into her when he wanted to. He certainly had when Emilia got upset. Emilia had inherited her mother’s naturally pale skin, so it had a tendency to flare bright red when she was upset, or when she had been in the sun a little too long. Christian had also made comments that Emilia wasn’t a true member of the family because she didn’t look like any of them. Every member in her father’s family were tall and well-built with dark hair. Even the women were well-built. Emilia was a little over five feet tall and slightly built with a willowy figure. Her hair was ash-blonde and her eyes, her favourite feature, were bright green.

  Christian wasn’t the only one who commented on her appearance - many of her father’s said the same, simply because Emilia looked like her mother’s side of the family instead of theirs - but his words cut the most.

  Taking a deep breath, Emilia rose and crossed the room. Her legs felt weak and she could feel the tears building up again. Above her head, she could hear the sound of more breaking glass and things being thrown. Christian was going to break everything in the house if he kept up like this. Emilia could understand his despair, but did he have to break everything? She made a mental note to speak to Roberts about moving anything of real value out of sight. She didn’t want to lose anything more because of her uncle’s tantrums.

  A tall, beautiful woman with golden blonde hair was pacing around in the morning room, her skirts swishing as she moved. Her companion, a tall, broad-shouldered man with pale red hair was sitting on one of the couches. The woman turned as Emilia entered. Her face was pale, and Emilia guessed she didn’t look any better.

  “Charlotte.”

  “Emilia.” Charlotte Chambers hurried across the room and tightly embraced her. “Oh, Emilia, dear. We had to come over as soon as we heard.”

  “I’m glad you came.” Emilia stepped back, grasping her friend’s hands. “Thank you.”

  “Anything for you, darling.” Charlotte bit her lip. “You have our most sincere condolences. I’m going to miss your father.”

  “So am I.” Emilia looked around as Charlotte’s husband appeared at her side. “Peter.”

  “Emilia.” Peter Chambers took her hand and kissed it briefly, squeezing her fingers. “This is a shock to everyone.”

  Emilia wasn’t about to argue with that. She turned to the door and saw the butler hovering in the doorway.

  “Would you get us some tea, Roberts?”

  “Yes, Miss Hill.”

  Roberts disappeared. Charlotte tugged Emilia to the couch and sat her down, easing down beside her and linking her fingers through Emilia’s. The two of them had been friends for more than twenty years, Charlotte having practically grown up on a neighbouring estate. Emilia couldn’t think of a more loyal, honest person than Charlotte. Even after her marriage to the dashing, somewhat socially awkward Peter Chambers, Charlotte was still a frequent visitor to Emilia’s home. Christian had complained about her constantly intruding, but Emilia had reminded him that he was a guest as much as Charlotte and didn’t have a say in who came to visit her. Thankfully, Jonathan had backed her up on that.

  Give Christian half an inch and the man took a mile, she was sure of it.

  “How are you holding up?” Charlotte asked. “Have you started on any of the arrangements? I mean…” Her face flushed. “I’ve not had to deal with a body before, I don’t…”

  “I don’t know yet,” Emilia said quietly. “Uncle Christian says he’s got to meet with the coroner and the funeral director. He said he would deal with everything.”

  If Emilia was brutally honest, she would rather have her father back. She shouldn’t be having to bury him, not when he had a lot of life in him. Jonathan Hill had been a healthy man and his physician had been optimistic in Jonathan living at least thirty more years. Emilia had thought that would be the case.

  “I... I just can’t believe this.” Emilia stared at her hand joined with her friend’s. “Father’s never had a mean bone in his body. He never got into disputes with anyone. Except for Uncle Christian, of course, but other than that…” She swallowed. “He makes friends with everyone.”

  “We know that.” Charlotte glanced up at Peter, who was standing over them. “Word has already got around that your father was found in an alley near Drake’s, that gambling hall on St. Mary’s Street. There are speculations as to what happened.”

  Emilia stared. “Already? He was only found a few hours ago.”

  “You know what Cambridge is like. Word gets around here and the surrounding area faster than anything would in London.”

  There would be so many members of Society who would be coming up with their own thoughts on the murder and who might be responsible. Then those speculations turned into rumours and rumours had a nasty habit of becoming fact. Emilia hated the rumour mill. Jonathan said it was nothing to worry about and to ignore it.

  Now he was dead, and it was going to be impossible to ignore.

  “What are people saying about this?”

  Charlotte hesitated. She glanced at her husband again, and Peter nodded. Emilia looked from one to the other.

  “What? What do they say?”

  “That your father got into an argument with Thomas Andrews and…” Charlotte took a deep breath. “Andrews lost his temper. He beat your father and lost control. Then he
got rid of the body. Look, we shouldn’t be talking about this, Emilia. I don’t want to upset you.”

  Emilia almost burst out into laughter. Not upset her. It was too late for that.

  Jenny entered the room with the tea tray and placed it on the coffee table. She glanced over at Emilia with a nervous frown.

  “Miss Hill?”

  Emilia took a few deep breaths to push the hysteria back. It had been a few moments since Charlotte had told her the rumours and she was still struggling with wondering whether to laugh or cry. She had ended up doing a mixture of both, and that had resulted in Emilia sounding like a braying animal, breaking down even more than before. Charlotte and Peter had sat there, Charlotte awkwardly patting her hand while Peter looked like he would rather be anywhere else but with them right now.