To Love a Lord (5 page)

She narrowed her eyes and took a step forward. “Are you speaking to me as though I’m a wounded pup?”

It had been his loyal mare, but by Mrs. Munroe’s thinly veiled fury, she’d little appreciate that slight distinction.

The office door opened and they both looked as one to the entrance. His loyal butler, Joseph—who’d been with their miserable household since Gabriel had been a mere child, beaten and bloodied by his violent sire. “You rang, my lord?”

“Would you—?”

She planted her arms akimbo. “Are you dismissing me again?”

The lady’s indignant tone cut into his orders. Had the insolent young woman challenged him—in the presence of his servant? He looked to his butler. By the smile pulling at Joseph’s lips, the other man was thoroughly enjoying Mrs. Munroe’s bold showing—at Gabriel’s expense. He tamped down his irritation and gave Joseph a pointed look. The old servant wisely backed out of the room and pulled the door closed behind him.

Gabriel returned his attention to the companion.

She swung her gaze away from the door and over to Gabriel once more. “You intend to send me away.” There it was again. That panic that flickered to life in the woman’s eyes.

Remorse tugged at him. “I do.” Still, his sister’s well-being was far more important than this stranger’s pride.

Mrs. Munroe’s shocked gasp filled the room.

Life had instilled in him the necessity of blunt honesty. Those sentiments protected a person from being guided down a path of foolish hopes and weakness. Though he felt a modicum of pity for the instructor sent to him from Mrs. Belden’s, he’d not be weakened by that useless emotion. Was the proud woman fearful of returning to Mrs. Belden’s without the assigned post? Dread, desperation, and anger paraded across the expressive lines of her face. He braced for her to employ tears or her womanly wiles.

Which is why her calm practicality took him aback.

“But you do not even know me,” she said with a far more steady tone than he believed her capable of in this moment.

Gabriel drummed his fingertips along the arm of his chair. She dropped her gaze to his hands. Annoyance flashed behind the young woman’s eyes and he stilled the distracted movement. “You are determined to have this post, aren’t you, Mrs. Munroe?”

She tipped her chin up. “I am. I came here to fulfill the role of companion and I’d see to that responsibility.” Then she added as if more an afterthought, “Mrs. Belden would be disappointed if one of her instructors was rejected in the respective role.”

Though he admired the lady’s determination, her unsuitability could not be changed or helped. She merely did not suit. Long tired of the exchange, he shoved to his feet. “Mrs. Munroe, as I said, I am appreciative of your circumstances.” She opened her mouth but then remained blessedly silent, allowing him his piece. “I will pen you a note, ensuring your position is secure at Mrs. Belden’s, however,” he continued over her when she made to protest. “My sister is entirely too spirited for you,” he said with a bluntness that effectively silenced the companion. “I require her wed and the woman you spoke of,” he gave his head a shake, “is not my sister and, therefore, it is necessary that I find a companion who will suit my sister’s temperament,” and who will see Chloe wed when she was determined to do anything but make a match. “Now,” he said, inclining his head, “if you will excuse me?” He marched past the wide-eyed young woman. “I have business to attend to.” He gave another firm tug on the bell-pull.

The door opened immediately and Joseph, with his blessed timing would see a raise in his salary by day’s end, reentered the room. “If you would show Mrs. Munroe to the guest chambers for the evening and have a meal prepared.”

Joseph motioned with his arm for Mrs. Munroe to follow him. With the fire snapping in her eyes, she appeared one more wrong word on his part away from marching over to the scabbard adorning his office wall and slaying him for his efforts. God spare him from any more angry ladies. At least this one, he’d soon be free of.

Then, with a remarkable poise that had likely landed the woman her post at Mrs. Belden’s, she dropped a stiff, deferential curtsy. “My lord,” she said in cold, crisp tones better suited to a queen than a delusional companion. With a final glower, she followed Joseph from the room. The soft click of the door closing behind the retreating Mrs. Munroe echoed loudly in the empty space.

*

By God he’d dismissed her. Not merely dismissed her. Why, the arrogant, emotionless lout had sacked her before she’d started. As Jane marched silently alongside the kind-eyed butler, she gave her head a bemused shake. This was certainly a first in her rather bleak employment history. A nervous laugh bubbled up from her throat and she nearly choked on the half-sob, half-giggle.

The butler cast a sideways glance her way. She braced for the sneering disapproval. Instead, concern filled his old eyes. Fortunately, he said nothing and allowed her the small trace of pride that remained. Their footsteps fell in unison as they moved down the long corridors, past familial portrait after familial portrait of distinguished kin, but for their powdered heads and dated attire, may as well have been the austere Marquess of Waverly for the coldness in their gazes frozen in time.

She fixed on the outrage coursing through her, for it prevented her from giving in to the swiftly rising panic that threatened to consume her. The marquess, of course, didn’t know that returning to Mrs. Belden’s was an impossibility for her because there was no post at the finishing school. Not for one of Jane’s quick tongue. The irony of this moment did not escape her. The demmed marquess had taken her for a spineless, cowardly sort who’d be trampled by his too-spirited sister and that weakness of character touted by Mrs. Belden had seen her sacked before she’d started. That was what happened to those who stole into a stranger’s home and attempted to steal a position of employment.

Jane and the butler walked quietly up a wide, darkened staircase. They reached the landing. The stairs spilled out onto a darkened corridor. She followed the old servant down the hall and then came to stop beside him.

“I have taken the liberty of having your belongings installed in your room.”

Ah, so the butler had anticipated she’d been given a room in the guest chambers. Had he also anticipated that she’d be effectively out of a position before she’d begun? “Thank you, Mr.?” She gave him a gentle look and he started.

A flash of surprise lit his eyes. “Joseph,” he supplied.

Annoyance stirred to life in her breast once more. This was the manner of household that foul beast ran? One in which his servants were unaccustomed to those small courtesies and kindnesses? “Thank you, Joseph.”

He pressed the handle and admitted her to her chambers. With a forced smile, she entered the rooms and closed the door behind her. The hum of quiet filled her ears, blending in blaring cacophony with the steady beat of raindrops upon the crystal windowpanes. Drawing in a shuddery breath, Jane laid her back against the door and shook her head slowly back and forth as a laugh worked its way up her chest. In all her fears of stealing into the marquess’ home and commandeering the role of companion, she’d never once considered that she’d be turned out the moment she arrived. The insurmountable challenge had been orchestrating the travel arrangements and entering the marquess’ home. She’d erroneously assumed that the challenges presented by her plan ended the moment she’d stepped into his room.

Filled with a restive energy, Jane shoved away from the door and took in the opulent space. The Marquess of Waverly’s guest chambers were finer than any of the modest dwellings her illustrious father had set Jane and her mother up in. With tentative steps, she walked over to the vanity. She trailed her fingertips along the mahogany surface and absently picked up the pearl-encrusted brush. The smooth handle was firm and reassuring in her grip. Her gaze snagged upon the bedraggled, rumpled creature in the bevel mirror and she studied herself with a critical eye. With her wrinkled uniform and the flyaway curls that had escaped the tight knot at the base of her neck, was it any wonder she’d been judged and found lacking in a man whose home could surely rival the palaces of most kings? Her lips pulled in a grimace and she set the brush down.

Returning to Mrs. Belden’s was not an option. There was nothing to return to. She removed her spectacles and pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d no sooner plead for her post at Mrs. Belden’s than send ’round a request for assistance from the Duke of Ravenscourt. The Marquess of Waverly, in all his infinite coolness and icy disdain, had ordered her gone. Granted, he’d permitted her the use of his chambers—

A knock sounded at the door.

She stiffened, but then the handle turned and a small army of servants hurried into the room. Jane widened her eyes and shock slapped her as they carried forth an enormous bath. In short order, the contingency of the marquess’ servants filled the porcelain tub with steaming buckets of water and then ducked from the room.

A lone young woman bearing a large silver tray of food entered on the wake of their speedy departure. The woman caught her eye and gave a smile. Another kindly servant. Despite the precariousness of her situation, Jane managed to return a grin.

“I am Cora,” the young lady greeted as she set the tray down on the small secretaire. “Is there anything else you require, Mrs. Munroe?”

“Jane,” she corrected automatically. She was not different than these people. In fact, she’d wager by her dependence upon her father’s assistance in finding employment, she was inferior to any one of the marquess’ servants who attained their posts by merit. “Please, just Jane, and no, there is nothing else I require.”
That is unless you have any ability to drum up a miraculous position in a safe household for the next two months.

The woman’s smile widened. “Very well, Jane.” With a slight curtsy, Cora took her leave, closing the door quietly behind her.

Steam poured off the top of the bath and beckoned Jane over. She sank to her knees alongside the porcelain piece and rested her arms along the side. He’d turn her out. He would send her back to Mrs. Belden’s, having judged her worth on a conversation not even fifteen minutes long. Jane skimmed the tip of her fingertips along the smooth surface of the water. Her determined visage reflected back in the shimmering ripples. He believed her spiritless and easily cowed? He thought to send her away in the morn? Well, the ostentatious nobleman would find out tomorrow just how spirited she, in fact, was and then let him try to turn her out.

S
eated behind his office desk, Gabriel consulted the neat, meticulous lines of the open ledger. He dipped the tip of his pen into the crystal inkwell, marked an additional column, and then tossed his pen down. The landholdings had proven far more successful under his careful attention. He rolled his shoulders, even as his lips pulled up in a hard smile. His father would have been pleased. Such a thought was enough to make a man let all that carefully crafted success go hang.

Yes, he’d like to see all legacies left by his evil sire rot and all the while he would revel in that destruction. If it weren’t for the siblings who’d been dependent upon them.

A knock sounded at the door and he raised his gaze to the doorway. “Enter,” he barked.

His butler appeared. “My lord,” he greeted, a serious set to his weathered face.

Gabriel frowned. The man had been in his family’s employ since his youth. He’d stayed on, loyal and, on occasion, scuttling his depraved employer’s children off and shielding them. Yet, Joseph refused to quit his post. “Did you see Mrs. Munroe received my note this morning?” he asked, climbing to his feet.

“Er, yes, my lord,” he said and stepped out of the way as Gabriel took his leave of the office.

“And you had the carriage readied?” he asked as the man fell in to step alongside him. He recalled the lady’s crystalline eyes, the most interesting part of the bland creature, snapping with fury.

Joseph inclined his head. “I did, however—”

“I take it Mrs. Munroe was less than pleased with being sent away.”

The old servant scratched his brow. “I would venture you are correct, my lord. However, there are several matters I would speak with you on.” They turned right at the end of the corridor and moved toward the breakfast room. “It is Lady Chloe.”

Those four words jerked Gabriel to a halt. He swung his gaze to the loyal servant. “What is it?” he asked, his tone harsher than intended, knowing before a confirmation of his fears even left the man’s mouth what plagued Chloe.

“She has another of her megrims, my lord.”

The muscles of his stomach clenched and unclenched. With a curse, he quickened his steps. “Have—”

“I’ve taken the liberty of having Dr. Talisman called,” Joseph interrupted.

Dr. Talisman. The irony of that old doctor, who’d also served the Edgerton family through the years, did not escape him. How often did he come attending Chloe, who suffered frequent headaches from the abuses of their past?

The old butler hastened his stride to match his pace. Mindful of the exertions, Gabriel slowed his step. “I want to see Talisman as soon as he attends her.”