When a girl, this neighbouring house had been so full of festive spirit, for although Marcus’ father had died young and during these same winter months, his mother had insisted on celebrating Christmas to the utmost, lighting candles for remembrance and decorating every room with greenery.
Marcus’ gaze returned to her references, so Charlotte returned to the mince pies.
The monies from her work as governess just about kept her own family home from falling around her ears. But the roof leaked above her chamber, the attics were troubled with rampant mould, and her uncle Marmaduke had thrice this week escaped his nurse by climbing out the dilapidated library window to be later found in the duke’s rose garden calling for a woman named Martha.
But more of that later…
“Have you a new school lined up for your ward after Christmas?” For Charlotte knew that Miss Dinah Lovecott had just finished atMiss Fanshawe’s Most Excellent Seminary for Elegant and Educated Young Ladies. Established 1802. Board included. Ninety guineas per annum. Washing extra.
“No.”
“Perhaps you should employ me as a full-time finishing governess then and not just for the Christmas season?”
His lips thinned, high cheek bones so taut one could bounce a sage dumpling off them. “You are…expensive.”
Charlotte spluttered mince pie crumbs. “Your starched cravats for a week must cost more than my wages for a year.” And no, this wasn’t the best manner in which to gain employment but she was fast losing patience.
He straightened said cravat. “I have a certain deportment to project.”
“A starchy one?”
The duke slammed down her references, at last showing some passion. “I am coming to believe Mrs Mossop could look after my ward quite ably over Christmas until I find a new school.”
“Mrs Mossop’s job is to housekeep this vast manor, not be governess also and teach young Dinah etiquette and the reasonswhy the earth does not simply wobble about the universe.” She cocked her head and huffed. “Surely you can stay home for Christmas and keep your ward company? Canals can wait. There are more important matters than business deals and glossy guineas.”
His brow wrinkled. “Such as?”
“Laughter? Compassion? Joy? Family? The spirit of Christmas?”
Those wrinkles formed crevices of condescension. “Absurd, Cha– Miss Webster. Perhaps you’d be too fanciful a governess for my ward as what do you think life is? Some romantic drivel of a fairy tale.”
Heavens, if anyone knew life was no fairy tale, it was herself. Since her baronet father had died leaving a trail of vowel-waving creditors and a crumbling unentailed house, she had scrimped and saved, worked till her eyes drooped, and had even been forced to try smog-ridden London for employment.
For Charlotte, no fairy-tale prince had ridden to her rescue atop a golden stallion. Or even a donkey.
“No, Marcus, I do not.” She smiled and his eyes hooded. “But there is more to life than ledgers and–” She bit her lip as a thought occurred. It would be bold, perhaps foolish, but… “You used to enjoy a wager, did you not?”
His visage hardened to stone. “Not any longer.”
“A deal then.” She broadened her smile. “If I can persuade you to stay home for Christmas Day, you’ll–”
A snort. “You’ve not a chance.”
Charlotte ignored him. “You’ll employ me as governess until Dinah reaches seventeen years of age. And you will have my roof fixed. And stop pestering me to sell you my home.”
He leaned back, crossed his arms, starched cravat unyielding, and narrowed those hazel eyes. “And when I depart for Carlisle still? What do I receive?”
Charlotte swallowed. There were no other jobs. She had less than a month’s worth of wages for Uncle Marmaduke’s nurse and the roof leaked in her bedchamber – as she might have mentioned before.
But if she succeeded, she’d be living here on this neighbouring estate to her own home and hence be near to her uncle Marmaduke for nigh three years, be able to pay the wages of his nurse for nigh three years.
“If…if I fail, I shall still work for you as governess until a school is found but…unpaid.” Well, at least she’d have a dry bed. “And I’ll…considerselling my house to you.”
“Consider?”
“Consider.”
But had she caught a flash of green in that gaze?
