Chapter Three
“There is a gentleman in my office in urgent need of a governess.” Miss P grabbed Georgie’s hand and practically dragged her out of the lesson she was teaching. “Urgent. Need.” Excitement danced in her wily blue eyes. “I’ve told him I have somebody he can interview straightaway!”
“What?” Prospective employers did not usually visit the school without an appointment. Furthermore, the hiring of governesses was usually done by the lady of the house, so a man here who wasn’t either delivering or fixing something was a rarity indeed. “What is a gentleman doing here?”
Miss P tugged her into the empty dining room, then frowned as she began to fuss with Georgie’s hair, which was doubtless doing its own thing wildly—as usual. “His name is Captain Henry Kincaid, grandson of the famous Admiral Augustus Gaunt, no less.”
“I’ve never heard of either of them.”
Miss P rolled her eyes. “Admiral Gaunt was the commander in chief of the Channel Fleet for over a decade.” When that was met with Georgie’s blank expression, she rolled her eyes again. “He basically spent his entire life saving us from the threat of a French invasion, dearest, back when I was your age and none of us dared trust the French as far as we could throw them, thanks to all their guillotines and revolutionary ideas. A very important man at the Admiralty in his day, and now his grandson seems to be following suit as he is apparently very high up in the Admiralty too. So high up they cannot possibly spare him. He needs a temporary governess to look after his sister’s children who have unexpectedly been left with him. Lord Bishop from the War Office personally recommended our school; hence he is here. Here and quite obviously desperate.” She gave up trying to rectify the calamity of Georgie’s hair to neaten Georgie’s dress instead, then centered her locket before holding her out at arm’s length. “This is your chance to finally prove yourself, Georgina! Serendipity! I can feel it in my bones.”
“But I’m not prepared for an interview. I haven’t planned a thing to say…”
“I know. Isn’t that marvelous?” Miss P yanked her back into the hallway toward her office. “Even better, it gives me a perfectly valid reason to be in the interview with you to keep your wayward tongue in check.”
“Well, I—”
Miss P cut her off with a finger to the lips as they stopped dead outside her closed door. “Speak only when spoken to, but do not be a church mouse either. You are a protégé, so sit up straight and look him in the eye. Be confident—but humbly so. An expert in your field but not a know-it-all. Keep your questions to a minimum and your opinions to yourself. Better still, ask no questions, as you are bound to ask the wrong one.”
“Perhaps it would be easier if I played mute!” What she had meant as outraged sarcasm, Miss P gave considered thought.
“Oh yes! That is a much better idea. Silence is golden, after all, and the less you say, the less chance there is of you saying the wrong thing. And for pity’s sake, just this once, try to remember what we stand for.” Her finger wagged in time with each of her next words. “Duty. Decorum. Diligence. Discretion. In your case, let us also add diplomacy too.” The finger prodded Georgie just above her straightened locket. “Before you open that big, outspoken mouth of yours, look to me first. Follow my lead. And for goodness’ sake, curb your redhead’s fiery temper and bite your wayward tongue!” With that, she flung open the door and sailed in, smiling regally as if she owned the place, which, to be fair to Miss P, she did.
“Captain Kincaid, thank you so much for waiting.” The captain was seated with his back to her, but that rear view alone was impressive. He positively dwarfed the chair and when he politely stood, she realized why. He was well over six feet and she had never seen such an immaculate coat tailored so perfectly to a torso. Atop the broad shoulders that filled it was a dark head, which turned slowly to reveal a face that could well have been chiseled out of marble by Michelangelo, such was its symmetry. His gaze swept her up and down in one fast, fluid motion before he blinked rapidly, clearly disappointed at what he saw. “Allow me to introduce you to Miss Georgina Rowe.”
He quickly masked his obvious surprise at her horrid carrot-colored hair and woeful lack of height. “Miss Rowe.” He bowed with all the precise elegance one would expect from a military man, his deep brown eyes never once leaving hers as he did so. They were intelligent eyes. Overly serious. Perhaps even judgmental. Assessing her so thoroughly she felt exposed beneath the intensity of his gaze. “Thank you for agreeing to see me at such short notice.”
Georgie bobbed a self-conscious curtsy that annoyed her because she wasn’t usually a shy or nervy person. Yet for some reason before him, she was suddenly both. Maybe because his stiff, unyielding military bearing was too familiar. Anything that reminded her of the colonel always unsettled her. Was this captain another colonel? Possibly—her gut told her probably—but she would be gracious and give him the benefit of the doubt. It would not be fair to make a snap judgment simply because the man in front of her had the right to wear a uniform. Although he was commanding enough not to need one to impress.
“It was no trouble at all, Captain Kincaid.” That said, there seemed little point in not concluding that when he did wear it, he would wear his uniform very well. He was the sort of man whose outstanding appearance was guaranteed to turn a lady’s head. Thankfully, Georgie had never been that shallow.
She wasn’t blind, though, so she obviously noticed all of Captain Kincaid’s overt, masculine charms, but as she had grown up around handsome men in uniforms and had lived beneath the roof of one who only lived for his, she was quite immune to shiny brass buttons and ceremonial trim. Besides, after the colonel, hell would have to freeze over before her discerning head would ever turn for a military man!
“Shall we sit?” As he had already been assigned the chair opposite the desk, Miss P grabbed the spare chair she kept in the corner for Georgie and positioned it directly next to her own. In front of it was a tray containing her best Sèvres tea set. “Georgina—will you pour for us all while the good captain here explains his unique predicament?”
As that was clearly a test to show the captain how adept she was at the correct social niceties, Georgie did her best to summon her inner duchess while she prepared three cups. All the while keeping one eye on him and her own gaze as serene and competent as she could make it.
“Indeed…” He waited for both ladies to sit before he did, then settled back into the chair with the quiet confidence of one used to being in charge. Big hands loosely clasped in his lap. One ridiculously long, booted leg crossed over the other. The fabric of his perfectly tailored buff breeches pulled taut over thighs that were clearly no stranger to exercise. “As I have already explained to Miss Prentice…” He said that as if he was a little put out at having to repeat himself and then waved away the offer of sugar in his tea when Georgie held up the tongs, as if sugar was a silly frippery he had no time for. Both things were so reminiscent of the colonel she had to suppress her rebellious scowl.
“Due to entirely unforeseen circumstances, my two nieces and nephew are currently staying with me while their parents are abroad. As they are gone to Egypt…” Maybe it was Georgie’s imagination, but she was certain his jaw clenched slightly at that. “I do not expect them to return for at least three months. Maybe longer.” She hadn’t imagined it because it clenched again. Exactly like the colonel’s used to when his ordered life was inconvenienced. “As I am a busy man, I urgently need the services of a good governess to take care of them in their mother’s absence. I certainly cannot spare the time as the Admiralty takes all of it.”
While Georgie decided her snap judgment of this pompous officer had been entirely accurate, Miss P nodded at him in sympathy. “You have come to the right place, Captain Kincaid, although usually at this time of the year, all my girls would be gone. I would not normally consider allowing anyone to borrow dear Georgina here from me under any circumstances—she is invaluable, you see. Practically my right-hand. But as this position is only temporary, I might be persuaded to make an exception.”
As Georgie handed him his tea, Captain Kincaid leaned forward slightly, and she noticed that he appeared to be sporting the chains of two pocket watches, one on either side of his sedate but obviously expensive cream silk waistcoat. She was on the cusp of asking him why that was when Miss P kicked her under the table as a timely reminder that she wasn’t supposed to ask any questions.
“Why don’t you tell us a little about the children, Captain?” Miss Prentice smiled as if butter would not melt in her mouth.
“Well… um… they are… um…” Clearly, he knew nothing about them if his rapidly blinking eyes were any gauge, as that question flummoxed him.
How typical of a puffed-up, self-important military man to be so oblivious of everything beyond his duty to king and country. And, of course, himself.
“Perhaps start with their names and ages—assuming that you know them.” That flippant comment earned her another nudge under the table from Miss P.
“Yes… of course.” He shuffled in his seat momentarily. “Felix—my nephew—is the eldest. He is ten and likes insects and cricket in that order.” Bizarrely, the corners of the captain’s mouth curved upward slightly. Almost as if he actually possessed some human feelings.
“I know it is unconventional for a boy to be educated by a governess, Georgina, as they usually go away to school.” Miss P interrupted to pat Georgie’s arm. “But under the unique circumstances, I have assured the good captain here that you are quite capable of providing a suitable curriculum for him as well as for the girls.” Then she smiled at him. “Pray continue, sir. You were telling us about the children.”
“Yes… well… Marianne is nine and fancies herself both an opera singer and a ballerina.” The lips miraculously curved some more and drat him, the smile suited him. “Then the youngest, little Grace, is five and has so much energy she doesn’t quite know what to do with it all.” The wistful smile made him seem almost… tolerable, despite making him more annoyingly handsome. “Beyond bump into the furniture. Usually at speed. Fortunately, her bones appear to be made of rubber, so she hasn’t broken one yet.” As if he suddenly realized he was smiling, he sipped his tea to kill it stone dead. “Thank goodness.”
“They sound delightful.” Miss P said exactly what Georgie was thinking. Or at least part of what she was thinking because half her thoughts were still contemplating what Captain Kincaid’s smiles meant.
That he could smile at all was, in all fairness, a massive point in his favor, as the colonel hadn’t possessed any smiling muscles at all.
“They are.” His half smile wavered until he nailed it back in place—making Georgie wonder if he were being entirely honest. “Of course they are. They are perhaps a tad boisterous at times…” Then, there was a touch of panic in his eyes. “But I am sure they are nothing that someone of the experience of Miss Rowe here cannot handle. Miss Prentice assured me that all governesses from this school are masters in the art of disciplining the unruly and are sticklers for running an ordered ship.”
Before Georgie could respond, her mentor’s foot came down on hers in warning. “Miss Rowe will be the undisputed mistress of her classroom, Captain, so you’ll have nothing to worry about on that score. She is an excellent teacher. One of the best I have ever had the pleasure of nurturing. Your nieces and nephew will thrive under her tutelage.”
“Splendid… splendid.” His eyes darted to hers again—no doubt taking in her diminutive but depressingly sturdy stature and vivid, rebellious hair—and didn’t look convinced. She would have opened her mouth to reassure him that she was far mightier than she looked and nobody should be daft enough to judge a book by its unpleasant orange cover, but Miss Prentice’s slipper was still pressing down on her instep to remind her that she was supposedly mute. “Not that I have a classroom, or even a nursery for that matter, as I’ve never had any use for either. But of course I have the space for both if she needs them, and I shall equip them with whatever Miss Rowe sees fit.”
Georgie felt Miss P stiffen. “Is there a Mrs. Kincaid, Captain?”
“No.” When he saw the older woman’s eyes widen, he caught on quickly that his bachelor status was a potential fly in the ointment. “But I have a cook—Mrs. Rigby—who lives in. As does Polly, the maid, so Miss Rowe will not be the only female residing in the house. Plus Marianne and Grace, of course. Not that two little girls really should be considered chaperones, but…” Uncomfortable, he lifted his cup again rather than glance Georgie’s way in case even a glance would label him as a despoiler in Miss P’s eyes. “I can assure you everything in my house is above board. I am an officer and a gentleman, madam, as anyone who knows me will attest.” He took a sip of his beverage with the casual, commanding air of someone who was obviously beyond reproach, then almost choked on it at the older woman’s next question.
“Is there a lock on her bedchamber door? For if there isn’t, I will have to insist on the immediate installation of a sturdy one to which only Miss Rowe has the key.”
“There isn’t, madam, but obviously I will honor your request, as that is only proper.” He now seemed so mortified by the implication Georgie almost felt sorry for him. Especially as she sincerely doubted that a man who looked like him had to resort to barging his way into short, uninspiring, freckle-faced, ginger-haired governesses’ bedchambers to slake his urges. Not when some of the scandalous ladies of the ton were probably queuing outside his already. A tall, dark, handsome, and wealthy man, especially one who had the right to wear regimentals, would probably have to beat them off with a stick. “However, I feel that I must also reiterate that as an officer and a gentleman, Miss Prentice, I take both of those responsibilities with the utmost seriousness. And always have. As Nelson himself once said, one cannot be a good officer without being a gentleman.”
Miss P pressed on her instep again before Georgie blurted out that the philandering Nelson was hardly the best example of gentlemanliness to quote from. “I am exceedingly pleased to hear that, Captain.” As much as she minded biting her tongue, it was impressive to watch her mentor in action. Somehow, she had managed to flip this situation on its head and had turned him into the interviewee. Without skipping a beat, Miss P changed the awkward subject. “It goes without saying that you would want the children to be taught a broad curriculum that embraces the essentials as well as the arts and sciences. Miss Rowe has a particular specialism in the sciences. She is also rather musical and can teach your nieces piano if you have one.”
“I’m afraid I don’t.” By his frown, he was now contemplating buying one of those, too, if it would help, but Miss P waved it away.
“Do you have any particular topics you would wish to see on her curriculum?”
“Er… apart from some much-needed decorum and discipline, not really.” There was a long silence which her mentor made no attempt to fill, and the foot at the end of his crossed leg began to bounce. “I should probably mention that the children have a… dog.” He stared straight at Georgie and there was that slight glint of panic again. “You are not afraid of dogs, are you, Miss Rowe? Only he is quite attached to the children and prefers not to be parted from them.”
“She adores all of God’s furry creatures, Captain Kincaid, so the addition of a faithful hound will hardly faze her.”
Georgie nodded, and he exhaled with relief until the upright naval officer returned again with a vengeance. He stood, no doubt intentionally to regain the upper hand. “Splendid. When can you start, Miss Rowe?”
The foot over hers pressed down harder as Miss P nonchalantly sipped her tea. “I think we should discuss terms first, Captain, before I decide if Miss Rowe can be spared. One of my protégés doesn’t come cheap and one of Miss Rowe’s caliber comes at a premium—especially for a temporary position. There is a lot of upheaval involved, after all, for both this school and her.”
He pulled himself up to his impressive full height, which seemed to add several inches to his already looming presence, the ferocity in his gaze so intense Georgie felt it everywhere.
“Whatever the going rate is for someone with such impeccable and impressive credentials, I will double it if Miss Rowe can move in by Wednesday.”
“Will she get every Saturday afternoon off and alternate Sundays too?”
He did not bat an eyelid. “Yes, and I’ll even pay her for them.”
“Then congratulations, Captain Kincaid. Miss Rowe would be delighted to accept.”
Just like that, and after barely uttering any words at all, she was finally employed. But instead of experiencing relief or even joy at that miracle, all Georgie felt was off-kilter.