Chapter Eleven
Carina glanced up to see Lady Mansel, together with a very poised and beautiful young woman.
Habit made Carina want to jump to her feet, but Lady Wolf’s arm suddenly seemed to hold her in place, and Lady Mansel and her acquaintance took the chairs next to them.
“Have you brought the children to the drawing room?” Lady Mansel asked, looking about her as if she expected small people to appear from beneath the furniture.
“No one has yet asked me to. Lady Wolf, do you know Lady Mansel?”
Apparently, she did not. Lady Mansel’s eye twitched with dislike at being introduced to a baroness by her one-time employee. And she quite clearly didn’t want to introduce the governess to her own companion.
The companion, however, removed the necessity by casually offering Carina her hand. “I’m Tabitha Sark.”
So this was the somewhat scandalous countess now betrothed to the Duke of Isbourne. It all felt quite unreal to Carina, whose headache was now throbbing.
Lady Grandison swept past her and this time, she did jump up. “Lady Grandison, might I return to the children?”
“Oh no, not yet. They’re fine with Mildred. And I shall need your help with the tea. Sir John will not let the gentlemen linger tonight.” She beamed around Carina’s companions as she bustled off. “We have a wedding to attend tomorrow morning!”
“One does love Lady G,” Lady Sark drawled.
“Yes, you have certainly landed on your feet,” Lady Mansel said to Carina with a sneer. “How is your father?”
“Well, I believe,” Carina managed, but she knew Lady Mansel would not remain silent.
The malicious gleam in her eyes told her that Papa’s failings, the tale of Lord Durward and the drunken tugboat captain’s daughter, were all about to be spewed for everyone’s entertainment in terms that were bound to reach Lady Grandison’s ears and, worse, Lord Sanderly’s.
After tomorrow, he would be legally in charge of the children.
Still smiling, Lady Mansel turned to Lady Sark. “Miss Jasper left Harwich in something of a hurry, you know. When I tell you she is—”
“Ah, there is Sir John with Isbourne,” Lady Sark interrupted without apology. “Are you yet acquainted with his grace, Lady Wolf?”
“Excuse me, I am needed,” Carina murmured, marching toward Lady Grandison with her eyes cast down.
She didn’t know whether to be grateful for the distraction or appalled by the unprecedently early appearance of the gentlemen, who included Sir Hugh as well as Lord Durward – two more hurdles to be avoided.
Despite focusing on her own feet, she knew exactly when she passed Durward for he halted and she felt the intensity of his gaze on her skin.
Why is he looking? she wondered wildly. Why is he even here if he didn’t know about the wedding?
And why the devil had he brought his little brother?
She ploughed on, placing herself at Lady Grandison’s elbow once more.
She could be invisible for just a few more minutes, then be useful in serving the tea, and then escape.
She could not think further into the future than that, for her head was too sore and her stomach felt coiled into a tight spring.
And yes, here was the tea trolley. Surely the last hurdle of the evening approached.
Lady Grandison was amazing. Despite her apparent vagueness that rarely allowed her to finish one sentence before beginning on the next, she recalled exactly how all her guests liked their tea.
“For Tabitha Sark and Babs Martindale,” she said about the first two cups and saucers.
“On the little sofa by the window...” She even understood that Carina did not know the guests and pointed them out to her.
She had never expected such kindness in an employer and realized all over again how lucky she had been to obtain this position.
Most of the guests even smiled and thanked Carina, with the notable exception of Lady Mansel who took the tea without pausing in her conversation to so much as look at her.
The legendary “Duke of Death”, Isbourne, gave her a singularly sweet smile.
He was talking to Lady Sark, Sanderly, and Durward who received the next cup.
Again, she knew his gaze was on her face, but she pretended to have no time to look at him and focused on finding Lord Wolf.
Oddly, Durward was there again when she came to Sir Hugh, and Mansel was therefore unable to assault her with more than his eyes as he received his tea. Which was when a late guest was announced.
“Lord Calton, my lady,” said the butler, and a handsome rakish young gentleman ambled in.
“Forgive me, Lady G,” he said bowing over his hostess’s hand. “I’m later than I intended, and I’m afraid I bring bad news. Is Durward here?”
“Yes,” Durward said, his voice oddly hollow. “Give us the worst, Calton.”
The eyes of the two young men met and in spite of her own worries, Carina felt all the ominous darkness of impending doom.
“Foster has relapsed,” Lord Calton said bluntly. “They say he’s about to give up the ghost. And there’s a warrant out for your arrest, Durward.”
The whole room heard that in stunned silence.
Now, Carina had to look at Durward. His face was blank, like a man absorbing shock. He set down his cup and saucer on the windowsill, and his breath seemed to come out very slowly.
Sanderly’s hand descended on his shoulder. “Best go tonight, my friend.”
A smile dawned that hurt Carina’s eyes, for it seemed to be made of equal parts recklessness and pain.
“Oh, no,” Durward said carelessly. “Tomorrow will do. After the wedding. Providing Sir John doesn’t clap me in irons.”
“WOULD YOU EXCUSE ME now, my lady?” Carina asked Lady Grandison. “I must make sure Orchid at least is in bed.”
Lady Grandison peered at her. “You are looking a trifle peaky, my dear. I hope you’re not coming down with some ailment?”
“Oh, no, I’m just a little tired with keeping everyone straight in my head. Goodnight, Lady Grandison.”
And then, almost dizzyingly, she was free. She wanted to take the stairs to the nursery two and three at a time, but her legs shook too much. For she was not free. She ached too hard for Durward.
She found Orchid holding court in her bed while Duncan Travis read to everyone from her favourite story book, only he changed every fifth word or so to “steam-pump.” Orchid laughed like a drain, and the other children were vastly entertained, although they all looked guilty when Carina appeared in the doorway.
Duncan grinned at her and carried on reading. Tolerantly, Carina waited for the end before she removed the book from his hands and without being told, the other children all left Orchid to sleep.
“That was so funny,” Orchid confided to Carina.
“So it was. But you have to go to sleep now. You have a big day tomorrow.”
“And I will be good for Harriet.”
“I know.” Carina kissed her goodnight and turned down the lamp before joining the others in the main part of the nursery where they sprawled on cushions and chairs.
“Where did you get that idea?” Alex was asking. “School?”
“No,” Duncan replied. “My brother used to liven up my bedtime stories that way, sometimes with rude words but mostly just silly ones.”
“I wish I’d thought of it,” Alex said enviously.
“I’m afraid I must send you away in five minutes, Duncan,” Carina said. “The younger ones need to sleep, and you are clearly far too entertaining.”
“Everyone tells me so,” Duncan said modestly.
Lily was watching him with shining eyes. Another complication. To give the boy his due, he made no effort to hang around and show off to her charges. He merely chatted for a few more minutes, then rose to go.
“See you all tomorrow.”
Carina followed him to the door, then stepped out into the passage with him. “Duncan?” she breathed. “Tell your brother I’ll help in any way I can.”
Duncan cast her a piercing look, somewhat reminiscent of his brother’s. “Why do you say that? Don’t tell me Foster has gone and died after all?”
“Not yet, but it’s expected. There is a warrant... Talk to him? Good night.”
The boy seemed about to say something, then compressed his lips and shrugged. “Good night, Miss Jasper.”
WHEN SHE FINALLY GOT to her own room, she was so exhausted that she simply sat down on her bed and rubbed her aching forehead. Only when she heard a scratch at the door and almost called “Come in”, did she remember about Mansel.
She had been so absorbed in Durward’s new need to escape, and the terrible guilt he would endure all over again, that her other problem had slipped from her mind.
And Mansel was the sort of weasel who would make the servants tell him exactly where to find her, thus beginning her ruin with backstairs gossip.
She sprang up, staring at the door as though daring it to make another sound.
It did, a second, slightly louder scratch.
If she remained silent, would he go away?
Or would he turn the handle and come in?
Once he was inside it would be so much harder to eject him.
.. She eyed the bell rope by the fireplace.
Did she really want the servants seeing this?
Misinterpreting it to the Grandisons and Sanderly?
Would even Harriet believe her? No, she should remain silent. ..
What if it is one of the children? She could not ignore it.
Swallowing, she walked soundlessly to the door and listened intently. At last, she raised her hand and opened the door a crack, stopping it with her foot, and with her free hand ready to slam it shut.
“Carina,” breathed Durward.
Her breath sounded like a sob, though whether of laughter or pain she had no idea. She reached out, dragged him inside and closed the door. As she leaned against it, staring at him, all her anxieties seemed to dissolve.
“How did you know which was my room?” she asked shakily.
“I guessed.”
“I was hoping Sir Hugh would not. Why is he still pursuing me when there is a houseful of high-ranking and beautiful women to annoy?”