“I—” Nick pressed a hand to his lips.
She eyed him with distaste. “My lord, perhaps you now understand how unsuitable I am to be your wife, and why it’s better that I leave your employ as soon as possible. I only ask that you not penalize me for something that was beyond my control, and hope you will be generous enough to write a recommendation based on my teaching skills and work, not my unfortunate background.”
Her absurd little speech did it. Nick burst out laughing, doubling over to clutch his stomach. When he finally caught his breath, he looked up to meet Victoria’s best governess glare. That, unfortunately, only sent him off again.
“Lord Arnprior, I don’t know how you can find any of this amusing,” she said in freezing tones.
Nick sucked in a breath and wiped his eyes. “Sir Dominic is aware of your parental history, I’m sure.”
“Yes, and you’re not to hold it against him for not telling you. He was only trying to protect me.”
“I won’t. And so you’re also cousin to Alec Gilbride.”
“Again, that is correct, although I didn’t know that until just before I came to Kinglas.”
“That cheeky bastard. How dare he not tell me?” Nick laughed again. The entire thing was so gloriously ridiculous. His prim, proper governess was the daughter of one of the biggest scoundrels in England’s history.
Of course, that also meant she had the bluest of blood running through her veins.
“I truly don’t know why you’re laughing,” she said grumpily.
“Because it’s sweet but utterly silly that you believed I would hold such a thing against you. Love, you do realize that many royal by-blows marry exceedingly well, and often have titles conferred upon them.”
She’d blushed, probably at his term of endearment. “Yes, but they’re men, for one thing.”
“Not all. There’s the Duchess of Leverton. She’s the Duke of Cumberland’s daughter.”
She pushed her lower lip out, as if thinking. Nick had to resist the urge to lean over and nip it.
“True, but the duchess comes from a very good family to begin with,” she said. “I do not.”
“Your family is entirely respectable, Victoria—hard-working and prosperous by your own account. They pose no impediment whatsoever, as far as I’m concerned.”
He got up and moved around to her side of the table, settling into the seat next to her. When he took her hand, she swallowed nervously but didn’t pull away.
“I know the circumstances are not ideal,” he said gently. “But you would do me a great honor if you would consent to be my wife.”
“Far from ideal,” she protested, even as she tightly clung to his hand. “You’re an earl, and I’m—”
“The daughter of the Prince Regent.”
“The daughter of a barmaid. And I’m also an entirely ordinary governess.”
“You’re not ordinary in the least. And I can tell you unequivocally that I would be delighted to be your husband.” Every moment that passed made him more certain of that simple fact.
She seemed to waver, but then pulled her hand away. “It’s very kind of you, my lord, but you have done me no wrong. There is absolutely no need for you to feel obliged to marry me.”
The woman was both exceedingly principled and insanely stubborn.
“I suspect your father would not agree.” He scrubbed a hand thoughtfully over his chin. “Nor would Sir Dominic. Unless we marry, he’ll shoot me when he finds out what we’ve done.”
“I . . . I . . .” she stammered.
He snapped his fingers. “Hang on. I’ll write to your father and ask his opinion in the matter.”
She gaped at him. “The Regent?”
“It is commonly accepted to ask a father for permission to marry his daughter, is it not?”
