Rules of Engagement (2 page)

If his explanation was supposed to make Hannah comprehend, it did not, but it occurred to her he didn't care whether she understood his dilemma, only that she understood what he wanted. Which she still didn't.

"If you could elucidate a little more, my lord?" she prompted.

His teeth snapped together—white teeth, evenly spaced, Hannah saw—and he glared as if she could somehow be blamed for his predicament. His voice stung with mockery as he explained, "There are those in our country who see me as… improper. A rake. A philanderer. In other words, unsuitable to associate with… decent people."

Through the doorway, Hannah saw a woman's silhouette. Pamela
was
back, and hovering just out of eyesight.

"To be seen as respectable manners to you?" Hannah could scarcely believe that. He didn't seem the type of man to whom public opinion mattered.

"A man who is ruled by the beliefs of the ignorant is a shadow of a man. In fact, one might call such a man a woman." He chuckled as if he had amused himself.

Hannah did not chuckle.

He didn't require even that imitation of politeness. "But I am a banker. My grandfather founded Mathewes Bank. He would be most disappointed if my reputation proved to be of detriment to that institution for which he labored for so long and assiduously." Cupping his cravat in his hand, he said, "Indeed, I will not allow
anyone
to tarnish the family name of Mathewes."

His sentiments sounded almost admirable, almost a vow, although Hannah cynically wondered if he truly worried about the bank, his grandfather and his family name, or if his personal income was his primary concern.

"It is a sad day in England when a man who keeps a mistress is seen as more respectable than a man who embraces a wider range of females." He chewed his fine lip.

"An obvious injustice."

He disregarded her sarcasm. "Indeed. So I want an orphan. I'll take him into my home, make it look as if I have been overcome with the milk of human kindness. I'll keep the foundling long enough to secure Her Majesty's favor once more, and in the meantime you can't expect me to care for him on my own!"

Hannah understood his plan now, and caught her breath at the callousness of his intent. "You wish to hire a governess to go to an orphanage and get you a temporary child to befool society and the queen? My lord, I wouldn't be able to sleep an eye-wink if I—"

Pamela stepped into the doorway, into the light. She looked like a drowned rat, with hair scraggling into her face and her eyes glaring like a demon's. Glaring at Hannah. Nodding vigorously, she pointed at the seated Lord Kerrich, then at herself.

Hannah shook her head
no
.

Lord Kerrich thought she was shaking her head at him, and he lounged back in his chair and smiled, exposing those perfect white teeth. "Come, Miss Setterington. Scruples? You can't afford them. You started this academy a mere two months ago, and to the best of my knowledge you've placed only one governess full-time. She is marrying Viscount Ruskin this Wednesday, if I read the invitation correctly, and as his wife she is unlikely to bring you further income. You and your other governesses are working piecemeal as dance instructors or some such."

He knew far too much, and Hannah was torn between staring at him and observing Pamela as she continued her little pantomime.

"I listen to gossip, Miss Setterington. There is a great deal of gossip about your school, little of it kind. You need me. You need my money." He pulled his wallet from his pocket and placed a check upon the desk.

She didn't want to look at the neatly scripted handwriting, but she couldn't help it. Even upside down she could read it. One hundred pounds.

She was glad she was sitting down.

She and Pamela didn't have to have the money. With what Pamela had collected today, they could survive for another month. But… they had three female young mouths to feed, three young minds to shape. Only then could Hannah and Pamela find them employment in respectable households and collect a placement fee. Cusheon and Cook and Mrs. Knatchbull depended on Hannah and Pamela, also. Even Hannah had developed the habit of eating on a daily basis. As long as nothing untoward happened in the next month, they could place the new girls, and the future of the Distinguished Academy of Governesses was secure.

As long as nothing untoward happened…

"That is how you work, isn't it? You charge a placement fee and guarantee satisfaction in the governess one hires? Well, I will give you an additional fifty pounds right now for the suitable governess, and fifty pounds for procuring a suitable orphan. In addition, I'll pay all expenses the governess incurs in finding the child. I don't know what the going rate to buy an orphan is these days, but I can afford it. Twenty-five pounds a month for the governess while she works for me, and at the end, when I succeed in convincing Queen Victoria and her wretchedly formal consort that I am the man to"—he caught himself on the verge of an indiscretion—"well, when I am once again in Her Majesty's good graces, I will pay a final compensation of two hundred pounds."

Hannah barely restrained her gasp. Pamela did not, and Lord Kerrich heard it, Hannah was sure. He didn't turn, only smiled. "You see? Even our clandestine listener believes it a great amount and worth the effort."

He was correct. Pamela danced with impatience, silently demanding that Hannah accept for her. But Hannah had to object. "My lord, you mentioned the queen. I cannot in conscience take part in deceiving our sovereign!"

He glared. "I'm not going to harm her, I'm going to help our monarch—as I have done all these years. It's for her own good."

Somehow, Hannah believed that. This man, with his cold eyes and proud face, had an honor of his own. It wasn't an easy honor, or a humane honor, but he carried it as part of the fabric of his being. In a lower voice, she said, "But your plan is so heartless."

He reared back in his chair, his dark, perfectly formed eyebrows raised in astonishment. "Heartless? Why heartless?"

"Unless you plan on adopting the child."

"That's going a little far."

"So you're going to lie and tell him he's to be adopted, then renege?"

"I see no choice. A child can't be trusted with the details of my plan." Placing his cane firmly on the floor, he placed both his hands atop the ivory knob that formed the handle. "Miss Setterington, he'll have every advantage while he lives with me, and he'll be out of the orphanage for a time, at least. You cannot say this is a bad thing."

Hannah agreed. She had been a lady's companion not so long ago, and the lady had been a compassionate woman. Hannah had had occasion to visit a few orphanages to deliver clothing and food, and they were uniformly dreadful places. "But afterward, to be forced to go back…"

Waving a long, gloved hand, Lord Kerrich agreed. "You do have a point, and a good one. I'm a compassionate man."

Obviously, he was not, and just as obviously he was oblivious to the fact.

He continued, "I concede you are correct. I'll help the youngster learn a trade and find a place for him in my household. It will be the least I can do." He leveled a stern glance at Hannah. "But first he must help me win the queen's favor. Now—as to my requirements."

"For the orphan?"

"No. One orphan's much the same as another, I suspect. My requirements for the governess."

He might be the handsomest man Hannah had ever met, but he made her head whirl with his assumptions, his requisites and his loathsome ruthlessness. To deal with him was to deal with the devil, yet he bore an air of implacability that convinced her that open defiance would have unpleasant repercussions. Yes, she was familiar with lords who imagined themselves so superior they could do as they wished regardless of the unhappiness they caused, and yes, she knew well that unless she employed tact, she and the Distinguished Academy of Governesses would be much the worse for it.

"Do you wish to interview our selection of governesses?" she asked.

"I will tell you what I need and you will get it for me."

She was relieved, for their current selection included only her and Pamela. "What do you need?"

"A plain woman, one not given to fantasizing, one with her feet firmly planted on the ground. An older woman." His full mouth compressed into a thin line. "An older woman who has left all hope of marriage, or even romance, behind."

I
don't know of a governess like that.
Hannah wanted to cut him down to size so badly! But Pamela now waved her hands emphatically, demanding the job as if she weren't the feminine counterpart of the handsome Lord Kerrich. Had she gone mad?

When Hannah hesitated, his teeth clamped together. "Come, Miss Setterington, you know the reason. I am sick of being the object of lovelorn sighs. I have to put up with it in my own household—one needs scullery maids, the housekeeper assures me. But if I must spend time with a governess, and I will have to, then I want to be assured she will not be making cow eyes at me or, God forbid, sneaking into my bedchamber and peeling down to nothing. Which just happened with the senior upstairs maid who one would think knew better."

"One
would
think so." Hannah might have been tempted to laugh, but he was so sincere—and so conceited.

Actually, if not for his demand that the governess be plain, Pamela was the perfect candidate. She had little use for men. In fact, she could have wed many a time, but always she had refused, and haughtily, too.

But she liked children, and they liked her. Why she was willing to be part of a scheme that must end in a child's heartache, Hannah didn't understand. Rising, she cut the interview short. "I will see if I can find a governess to fill your needs, my lord, but I make no promises."

He rose also, and smiled at her with such charm she almost staggered under the influence. And she didn't even like him!

"Try," he suggested. "I'm not in the position to help you gain respectability—quite the opposite, I'm afraid. But the money will help buy you time until you have established credibility on your own. Which"—he cocked his head and examined her from head to toe—"you will do. You have the air of someone who succeeds at whatever she sets her hand at."

"Thank you, my lord." Would that that had always been true. "I will inform you of my progress soon."

"By next Tuesday," he said. That gave her a week. "I'll expect a governess to present herself on my doorstep."

She nodded. He strode out the door. Pamela had faded into the shadows of the entry to avoid meeting him, and as he left he looked neither left nor right.

Hannah stood behind the desk, and Pamela stood behind the stairway until Cusheon had closed the front door on Lord Kerrich.

Then they paced forward, meeting in the entry like armed adversaries.

"What do you mean by telling him you made no promises?" Pamela asked. "I'll do it!"

"Your love of money will get you in trouble yet, Pam! You can't mean to go through with his scheme. Lord Kerrich proposes a despicable plot to convince Her Majesty of his decency when he obviously has none."

"In my youth… I had occasion to make Her Majesty's acquaintance."

Hannah gaped. Hannah knew Pamela's parents had been wealthy and well connected, but never, never had Pamela revealed how far she had fallen when the tragedy had overtaken her.

Pamela continued softly, "Her Majesty was then and I'm sure is now a person of much good judgment—obviously, if she is threatening Lord Kerrich in some manner. And she is surrounded by every wise adviser—Lord Melbourne and now Prince Albert. I think we can trust she will be protected from his machinations."

Hannah couldn't believe Pamela had kept so much of her background hidden, or that she clearly meant to stop now, after revealing such a tantalizing hint of former glory. "Do you know Lord Kerrich, then?"

Pamela had a gray cast to her skin that dulled her normally bright blue eyes, and her brief laugh contained a tinge of hysteria. "Long ago we met briefly. He won't remember."

"But—"

"He is far too important to recognize me." Pamela lowered her head as if the weight of her memories were too much to carry. "I had a different name then."

Pamela chose to go by her mother's family name, rather than her father's. Hannah didn't blame her, but she was expecting too much if she thought Hannah wouldn't be curious. "Please, tell me—"

"Don't press me."

Hannah heard the note of finality, and subdued the innumerable questions that clamored to be asked. "As you wish. But even if you are safe from identification, surely you also must think of the child. He will be hurt, no matter what Lord I'm-so-handsome says."

"I'll protect the child."

"You love children!"

Pamela turned on her in a fury. "I said, I'll protect the child!"

Hannah stepped back in astonishment.

Pamela's fury faded quickly, leaving her shivering in great convulsions. "We need the money."