To Tempt A Rogue (22 page)

Harriet straightened and looked him directly in the eye. “Are you married?”

His reply was a choking sound of pure astonishment.

Harriet did not know what to make of that reaction. Astonishment at the question or was it amazement at being confronted with the truth? She waited, but he did not answer.

“Do I really need to repeat the question?”

“No.” The harsh answer echoed through the tree tops. “And no.” The muscles around his lips tightened. “No, you do not need to repeat the question and a most emphatic no to that same unbelievable question. I do not have a wife, nor have I ever been married.” His voice grew pensive. “And I cannot, for the life of me, imagine what possessed you to ask me such a ridiculous, inappropriate question.”

Harriet glared at him for a long, angry moment, then lifted her chin. “No, I don't suppose you would.”

She took advantage of his momentary shock to hurry away before he had a chance to say another word.

 

 

Though she greatly feared a chance encounter with Nathaniel, Harriet knew it was important that she look in on the girls before retiring to her own chamber, especially since the young nursemaid who slept in the girls' room had reported they suffered from nightmares and were often restless during the night.

Tonight, all appeared calm when Harriet entered the room. The nursemaid was dozing quietly on her pallet near the fireplace and Phoebe and Jeanne Marie were in the large bed, tucked safely beneath a warm coverlet.

Harriet made her way across the room to examine the burning candle she had instructed be left lit each night. Confident that the taper was long enough to last until dawn and the flame was not near any of the bedcurtains, Harriet turned to leave. Yet as she began to walk away she heard the sheets rustle.

Approaching the bed, Harriet saw Jeanne Marie's legs moving and noticed that her head was jerking from side to side. The child was also making incoherent mumblings and uttering short, painful little cries.

Distressed to realize the child was having a nightmare, Harriet came closer. As the little girl's thrashing grew increasingly agitated, small beads of sweat began to form on her forehead.

“Wake up, Jeanne Marie.” Harriet cradled the sweet face in her hands, rousing the child from the demons of her nightmares.

Her arms flayed out, then Jeanne Marie's red-rimmed eyes opened. Pale and frightened, the child stared at her. “Miss Sainthill?”

“I am here,” Harriet answered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “There is no need to be frightened.”

“I had a bad dream.” The little girl's mouth worked as if she were trying very hard not to cry.

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

“No.”

Harriet brought out her handkerchief and dabbed at the moisture on the child's forehead. “Were you dreaming of fishes? Sometimes when something new and exciting happens during the day, we dream about it at night.”

Jeanne Marie shook her head. “I like fishes, even though I didn't catch any. They wouldn't make me feel sad.”

“Something made you feel sad?”

“Yes, sad.” Jeanne Marie's brow wrinkled into a frown. “And lonely.”

“Really?” Harriet began combing the little girl's hair with her fingers. “Even with Phoebe and Gregory and me and your Uncle Nathaniel around, you still feel lonely?”

“Uh, huh. I was missing someone very special,” Jeanne Marie yawned, nuzzling herself closer to Harriet. “I was missing my Mama.”

Harriet felt her pain and understood from her own experience how difficult it was to lose a mother at such an early, impressionable age. “It is sometimes frightening when we no longer see and talk with and just hug and kiss those special people we love so much. But that does not mean the love we felt for them and the love they had for us is gone. We carry it always, deep inside our hearts.”

“Uncle Nathaniel says Mama still loves us very much.” Jeanne Marie's face contorted into a frown of incomprehension. “But why did she go away? Why did she die?”

A sharp pain pierced Harriet's chest. “I don't know. All I can tell you is that someday you will begin to feel a bit better about it.”

“Really?”

“I promise.” Harriet settled her hand between the child's shoulder blades and rubbed lightly back and forth.

“Lady Julienne always helps me feel safe.”

“I know.” Harriet sighed. The missing doll was certainly contributing to the anxiety the child was feeling. “I can make no promises, but perhaps there is a way for Lady Julienne to come to Scotland. Do you think she would enjoy living here in this large, old castle?”

Jeanne Marie took a quavering breath. “Can she stay in my room? I don't have such terrible dreams when Lady Julienne is with me.”

“Where else would she stay?” Harriet smiled. “Certainly not with your Uncle Nathaniel.”

The child attempted an answering grin. It tore at Harriet's heart to see how brave she was despite her real distress. “Will it take a long time?”

“Probably. I know you remember it was a long journey when you came to Scotland. And you must understand that I cannot be certain Lady Julienne will be able to make this very long trip. I can only promise to try my best to get her here.”

The gratitude that shone in Jeanne Marie's eyes gave Harriet a start of guilt. She truly would do all that she could to bring the child's toy here, but there were no guarantees. Perhaps it was a mistake to tell the little girl of her plans, for she might be worse off if the plan failed.

Yet Harriet knew from experience it was important to have hope. And she really would do everything she could to make sure that somehow that doll was put back where it belonged—in Jeanne Marie's arms.

“It probably would be best if you don't mention anything about this to anyone else,” Harriet suggested.

“May I tell Phoebe?”

“Well, only Phoebe. After all, she too is a girl and will understand such an important matter.” Harriet let out an exaggerated yawn. “Time for sleep. Scrunch down under the covers so I can tuck you in nice and tight.”

The child followed her instructions without protest. “Will you stay until I go to sleep?”

“If you wish.”

“Thank you. I do believe you are the finest governess I have ever known,” Jeanne Marie whispered solemnly. Then she turned over and cuddled next to her sleeping sister.

High praise indeed, from a child who at the very most had known perhaps one or two others in that position. Still Harriet knew the words came directly from Jeanne Marie's heart and they touched her deeply. She swallowed hard and got to her feet.

Stepping into the shadows of the chamber, Harriet waited until the quiet, even breaths told her the little girl was deep in slumber.

The moment she arrived back at her room, Harriet lit several candles and pulled out a leaf of her private writing paper. It took her a long time to compose the letter to Mrs. Hutchinson, housekeeper of a grand mansion in Grosvenor Square. She wanted to convey a sense of urgency and importance, but it was difficult to strike the right balance when discussing a child's toy.

Yet Harriet was hopeful that the children's fond memories of the housekeeper illustrated an accurate account of her character. When she was finally satisfied with the missive, Harriet sanded the page and sealed the letter.

Early the following morning she sought out one of the stable lads, remembering the boy had mentioned he had a brother who had recently joined the army. The young soldier would be leaving for his post in a few days, passing through London before making the journey to the continent. It would take weeks, perhaps even a month for a letter to reach England from this remote area, but if this soldier was willing to take the letter for her, it could arrive in record time.

Harriet forced herself to ignore the stab of guilt as she handed over the missive and several coins to the eager young recruit. The boy seemed to be an honest, sensible lad and Harriet believed he would indeed deliver the letter personally.

Knowing she was going directly against the orders of her employer made this a more difficult task, but Harriet had never been the type of woman who took the easy, expected path when making decisions. Right or wrong, she often had only the courage of her convictions to give her the necessary strength to face down censure and adversity.

She was not acting on a whim or out of defiance or spite. Jeanne Marie was hurting and Harriet saw a way to ease that suffering.

Still, she could not fully suppress the nagging feeling that she was somehow betraying the trust Nathaniel had placed in her by so blatantly ignoring his command to let the matter of the missing doll drop. Harriet could only hope that when Jeanne Marie was united with her beloved toy, that feeling would disappear.

The next week was tense and the week following that put Harriet's nerves even further on edge, for she found herself spending a good deal of her time eluding her employer. Yet it seemed that the more she tried to retreat, the more determined he seemed to seek her out. Perhaps it was the challenge of the chase. Or the fact that she was the only gentlewoman with whom he had any contact.

Whatever the reason it created an awkward situation. She knew very well that when he chose to be, Mr. Wainwright could be a most charming man. He was also too darn attractive for his own good. And her peace of mind.

It took continuing effort, but Harriet did succeed in keeping her distance from him. She never allowed herself to be alone with him, fearing she would remember the closeness they once shared, fearing she would once again long for those things a responsible, respectable governess would
never
even imagine when thinking of her employer.

As was proper, it was the children who became Harriet's main concern. It took a few attempts, but eventually she was able to establish a daily routine that provided a good balance between lessons and leisure. The youngsters' abilities were as varied as their ages, but they proved to be eager students, with quick minds and inquisitive natures. She was pleased with their progress, however, Harriet often worried about the future they would one day face.

Illegitimate children were not welcomed into the better families and Harriet feared the girls would have a difficult time making an advantageous match. No matter how genteelly raised, Society and the landed gentry would not look favorably upon those born on the wrong side of the blanket. The wealthy merchant class had an even stricter moral code, so a generous dowry would make little difference to them.

Gregory would have a slightly easier time, as men often do. He would have an opportunity to establish himself in business or perhaps even own a small parcel of land. Yet many doors would remain closed to him due to the circumstances of his birth.

Harriet was not one to bemoan the unfairness of fate, however she knew in her heart that if given the opportunity she would eagerly express her opinion to Mr. Wainwright on the consequences of bringing three innocent souls into the world when he had no intention of giving them his name.

She therefore redoubled her efforts to prepare the children to face the world. If she could give them a sense of self-worth, a thick skin, and a positive outlook, they would be far better equipped to face the many challenges in life that awaited them.

Harriet began taking all her meals with the children. She thought it best to spend as much time with her charges as possible and this arrangement also had the added benefit of separating her from Mr. Wainwright. He, however, quickly put his foot down and insisted that the children and their governess join him each evening for dinner.

It was a highly unusual request and Harriet assumed that after one disastrous meal the invitation would be rescinded. But Mr. Wainwright appeared only mildly distressed when the children spilled their drinks, refused to eat anything remotely resembling a vegetable, and had heated discussions on a variety of topics ill-suited for the dinner table. Harriet made a few, gentle corrections during the first meal, but since her objective was to discourage spending this time with Mr. Wainwright, she quickly gave the children free rein in their behavior and expressing their opinions.

It did not produce the desired effect. More often than not, Mr. Wainwright was amused by the youngsters' antics. She would feel his gaze upon her, knowing he was trying to catch her eye, to share the humor of the moment. Harriet stubbornly kept her attention focused on her plate or her charges, never once directing her gaze toward the head of the table where Mr. Wainwright sat.

Her one relief was that the young trio seemed unaware that anything was amiss. They began to look forward to the evening meal, thriving in an environment where they were encouraged to relax and enjoy themselves. They competed unabashedly for Mr. Wainwright's attention, but he showed no overt favoritism to any of them, treating the children as if each one was the most important one.

These dinners were difficult, but Harriet soon discovered that nights were hardest of all. Either she would lie awake for hours, eventually drifting off to a fitful sleep in the very early morning, or she would immediately fall asleep upon entering her bed, wake up, and then toss and turn restlessly through the wee hours of the morning.

Realizing it was useless to stay in bed when she could not sleep, Harriet began leaving her bedchamber and wandering down to the library in the middle of the night. She would work on her lessons, browse through a book or just relax in front of a warm fire. There was something calming and strangely soothing about being awake and in the center of the castle while the rest of its occupants slept. At least it made her sleepless nights more tolerable.

Tonight had been especially long. No sleep at all had come, so Harriet left her bed, donned her robe, put on her slippers and lit a candle. She made her way quickly through the long corridors, down the stairs to the second floor, then turned the corner.

Nathaniel suddenly appeared at the end of the hallway. Harriet choked back a gasp of surprise. Apparently she wasn't the only one who had difficulty sleeping at night. He was dressed in the same scarlet red dressing gown he had worn on the night she arrived at the castle. The vibrant color of the garment emphasized his dark, sculptured features and broad shoulders. He looked fierce and menacing and disturbingly handsome.

The moment she spied him, Harriet came to an abrupt halt. Thinking fast, she blew out her candle, then waited in the darkness, her ears alert to the slightest sound. She prayed he had not seen her. All remained quiet for several long minutes and Harriet dared to breathe a small sigh of relief. Using her right hand, she felt along the stone wall and carefully began to ease her way backwards.

A burst of light fell on her path. He knew she was there! Harriet turned, moving her feet as quickly as she could, her mind intent only on flight.

“Running away again, Miss Sainthill?”

The challenge in his voice brought her to a dead stop. Harriet slowly pivoted on her heel to face him.

“I was not running, I was walking. Back to my chamber. 'Tis rather late.”

“Yes, it is late.” He gave her a critical eye. “Since you are in your nightclothes, I assume you could not sleep. Were you headed toward the library, perchance?”

Harriet did not answer, knowing she should not be surprised that he was aware of her late night activities.

“If the library was indeed your destination, pray, do not let me chase you away.”

It was very difficult, but Harriet managed to ignore the barb. She crossed her arms under her chest and placed a stern frown upon her face. “I am not in danger of being chased away by you or anyone else.”

Mr. Wainwright pulled a grim face. “Then why do you run in the opposite direction every time I find myself within a few feet of you?”

“I am not running away,” Harriet insisted. “I have responsibilities and duties that require an enormous amount of my time and attention.”

“You are chillingly distant whenever we converse.”

“Nonsense.” Harriet shivered involuntarily as a cold draft whirled around her ankles. “I am merely too busy to engage in idle chatter.”

“The hallway is drafty and cold,” he said. “There is a warm fire in the library. Let us continue our discussion in comfort.”

Biting back a retort, Harriet regarded him cautiously. It might be better if they did clear the air between them. Yet, did she dare risk being alone with him? “I prefer the door to remain open,” she said as she preceded him into the library.

He raised his eyebrows, but Harriet would not be deterred. Above all, she could not allow the physical bond that seemed to ignite between them whenever they were alone to take hold. The library was cozy enough without the added privacy of a closed door.

“Will you have a seat?” he offered cordially.

“I do not care—”

“Sit down.” He made an impatient sound. “Please.”

Her cheeks heated. She had forgotten what a large man he was, how formidable he could be, especially when he wanted something.

She thrust herself into the nearest seat, realizing too late it was a couch. Mr. Wainwright took immediate advantage of her mistake by seating himself beside her. The couch was small and narrow. He pressed against her arm and thigh, causing the chills she had been feeling to change to heat.

The air around them hummed. She briefly considered moving herself to a chair on the far side of the room, but that seemed to give too much importance to the fact they were seated so closely.

“It appears that I have done something to deeply offend you, Harriet. I would like to offer an explanation or an apology, yet in truth, I know not what I have done.”

She looked at the fire, wondering why he had finally decided to say something. “I am merely the lowly governess, sir. My opinions and feelings are of no consequence to you.”

To her chagrin, instead of being angered or put out by her response, he laughed. “Hell, I must have really put my foot in it this time if you are using your best governess tone with me.”

His joviality stung. “How lovely that I can provide some much needed amusement for you, Mr. Wainwright.”

His expression quickly sobered. “You have deliberately placed a wall between us, Harriet. I thought we were friends.”

“We are nothing but employer and employee, sir,” she stated dully.

“My God, woman, we are far more than that,” he replied harshly.

“If we were, then you would not feel compelled to keep the truth about my charges from me.”

“I do not understand what you mean.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes and stared at him, then determined he was trying much too hard to look innocent. “Reality is not always pleasant, but as adults we must face the consequences of our actions.” She stood on her feet and walked towards the open door. “You have tried to hide the truth from me, but I have eyes in my head and a perfectly functioning brain. I know your secret, Nathaniel.”

There, she had said it. Inexplicable tears began to sting the back of her eyelids. Harriet balled her hand into a fist and pressed it hard to her lips to keep the sobs at bay. Until that moment she had not realized how deeply she had been hurt by his duplicity, how betrayed she felt by his lack of trust.

Nathaniel scrambled off the couch and blocked the doorway. “What did you say?”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “I have figured out what you were so determined to hide from me. I know your secret.”

“You cannot!” He slammed the door so hard that a book fell off the shelf and crashed to the carpet.

Harriet let out a hollow laugh. Even now he would lie to her, deny the truth? “It does not take a scholar to see the true relationship between you and the children. Why, 'tis plain as the nose on your face. Or should I say the eyes in your head? You are certainly entitled to your privacy, but when your pride or whatever it is unnecessarily causes the suffering of an innocent child I will not stand idly by and allow that to happen.”

His eyes darkened. His breath came in short puffs and then he moved towards her, so quickly she had no time to react. With a snarl of barely controlled rage, Nathaniel grabbed her shoulders roughly and pinned her with his body against the wall. “Bloody hell, Harriet, you are making no sense. What have you done?”

Her heart pounded in her throat. Though she told herself he would not harm her, she was very much aware of his superior physical strength. “I have followed my conscience, sir.”

“I do not know what that means!” His voice was raw and rasping. “Tell me exactly what you have done.”

A long, awful silence hung over them. “I wrote a letter to Mrs. Hutchinson and asked her to send Jeanne Marie's doll to Hillsdale Castle. I also enclosed directions and a small draft to cover the cost of sending the toy.”

Harriet felt Nathaniel's entire body jolt. Slowly, his hands fell away, though his eyes seemed to be burning through her. With shaking hands she adjusted her robe and the nightgown beneath it. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers, the hard muscled length of him pressing her back against the wall.

His loss of control had frightened her. Not because she feared any physical danger to her person. Oh, no. His reaction let her know that something awful had happened. A niggling worm of doubt and fear began to build within her.

“I expressly forbade you to contact anyone from the children's past. Why would you do such a thing?” The tension stretched taut. “If you know my secret, you know that the children must remain hidden or else I am in danger of losing them.”

Harriet let out an exasperated groan. “But they are your children. You have the right to take them wherever you wish.”

He released a long breath and admitted, “No, I do not. I am not their legal guardian. At least not yet.”

“Of course you are, you are their father.”

“Their father!” The words exploded out of Nathaniel. “Bloody hell, is that what you believe?”

“That is what I know. Your resemblance to Gregory is marked. 'Tis obvious that he is your son.”

He looked completely taken aback. “Gregory is not my child, though I wish to God he were, for then I would not be in this mess.” Frustration shone in his dark eyes. “Tell me again about the letter.”

He looked so righteously indignant it caused Harriet's stomach to twist uneasily.
Gregory was not his son?
“Jeanne Marie is utterly miserable without her doll. I assumed you did not wish to contact the household because you were ashamed of her illegitimate birth, so I wrote the housekeeper a note and arranged for the letter to be delivered to London.”

“How did you know about London? And Mrs. Hutchinson?”