Miss Strictland came so well recommended and seemed every bit as no-nonsense and exacting in person as he had been promised.Formidablewas what his friend the Marquess of Teignmouth had called her, and she was. She had the presence, age, and all the experience necessary to take on what was arguably the worst job in the whole world. Yet there was something about the final candidate sitting before him that gave him pause for thought.
Miss Kendall was, despite her stiff posture and icy glare, undeniably far too young to be taken seriously by his sisters. She couldn’t be more than three or four years older than Abigail, so he could not possibly imagine she would be a more effective protector of his wayward siblings than he currently was. Not only was she too young to be a chaperone, but she was also far too pretty to be one. With her near jet-black hair, shimmering dark brown eyes, and trim, womanly figure, Miss Kendall would have to beat the men off with a stick every single time she left the house. By her stern expression, if she’d had a stick handy, he also did not doubt that she would currently use it to beat him with—but that did not lesson her attractiveness one jot.
The absolute last thing his sisters needed was more honey toentice the flies to hover. And hover they had this past week while Abigail and Emilia had dragged him from pillar to post. He had endured endless days of shopping and strolling through the parks for fresh air while they took every attempt to lose him. And of course, to further punish him for the egregious sin of being the brother to two wayward sisters, one of whom was obsessed with soldiers, the First Somerset regiment had mustered in Bath for a month of bloody training maneuvers!
Not that his evenings were much better—but at least in a ballroom or a dining room or a theater, his infuriating siblings were contained. But even so, after being run ragged from eleven in the morning to eleven at night, he had had to resort to burning the midnight oil to get any of his actual work done. Leo was so sleep deprived (doubtless precisely as his evil sisters intended) that he wasn’t quite sure which way was up anymore.
A situation that was, frankly, too terrifying to be allowed to continue.
Sensing Miss Kendall was staring at him while his aged spaniel Captain Barkington stared up at her suspiciously from directly beside her chair, Leo lifted his gaze from her letter and tried not to notice how damned attractive the woman was. “You are much younger than I expected, Miss Kendall. Perhaps a bit too young, truth be told.”
Two very dark brows kissed in consternation. “Your advertisement failed to stipulate that you required someone of a more matronly age. If it had, I wouldn’t have wasted my time applying.” She gestured to the paper beneath his hand. “Although my age is clearly stated in my application, your grace. Writ plain as day in the first paragraph.”
She made no secret of the fact that she was peeved that he had kept her waiting so long, despite his heartfelt apology. Understandable, he supposed, when he had delayed her for almost an hour. It was hardly her fault that his troublesome sisters had forced him into another stand-up argument because they wanted to go out and he had had to forbid it until he had concluded his business here first.Miss Kendall had been in the process of leaving when he had fetched her. And bugger, but that had impressed him. People did not usually storm out on a duke. Nor did they pull one up on what they had failed to put in an advertisement or completely missed in a letter. Miss Kendall clearly had some gumption, and whoever had the great misfortune to chaperone his sisters this summer would need that in spades.
“You are quite right, Miss Kendall. I should have stated on the advertisement that I wanted a more mature and experienced chaperone for my sisters, so that is my mistake. I can also see now that your age is clearly in the introductory paragraph too just as you’ve said.” He hoped eating some humble pie might make her glare soften some. It didn’t. “You are four-and-twenty.” Nowhere near old enough to effectively deal with the two hellions currently plotting against him in the drawing room.
Although he realized why he had missed it in the seven or eight times that he had read her letter yesterday before his curiosity had compelled him to call her in. Because Miss Kendall’s application had not been a letter at all, but a thoroughly convincing essay outlining all the reasons why he would be a fool not to employ her.
Leo had never read an application that had started with a question and covered six pages before but, and all credit to her, that method had certainly got his attention. The prickly minx had a way with words. Enough that she was still here despite being the least experienced of all the other nine candidates he had just put through their paces. She was also the first candidate in the history of ever not to sycophantically blow smoke up his arse because of his title. And bugger him but he admired that about her too. Miss Kendall did not suffer fools gladly. Even those with the word “Duke” before their name.
“I see that you have been exclusively a governess these last three years.”
“That is correct.” She looked him straight in the eye with far more boldness and confidence than all the other nine candidates put together, and answered somewhat begrudgingly in clipped tones. “Aftergraduating from Miss Prentice’s School for Young Ladies, I did a year with Sir Cloudsley-Shovlar followed by two years with Lord and Lady Warley.”
Leo Knew about Miss Prentice’s school because its sterling reputation in Mayfair preceded it. He also, sadly, knew Lord Warley. The fellow was an arse. “I have collided with Lord Warley a time or two in Parliament.” From very opposite sides of the house. “His daughters are still quite young, I believe.”
“Twelve and fourteen.” Good gracious but her level gaze was unwavering.
Miss Kendall was a woman supremely comfortable in her own skin. He envied that. For some inexplicable reason, his currently did not feel like it fitted his frame properly.
Her fault. Something about Miss Kendall unnerved him. Possibly the outright hostility that positively radiated from her. Like his sisters, she made no secret of the fact that she was now here under duress, and yet, still some devil inside him screamed that she was precisely what he needed.
Why the blazes was that?
Determined to prove that screaming voice wrong—because she was plainly wrong in every conceivable way—he decided to probe deeper. Expose all her weaknesses and give himself the evidence he needed to silence the irrational voice in his head and send this hostile, confident minx packing.
“Did you like working for Lord Warley?” He pinned her with his own level stare to test her mettle. She might well be fearless, and he might well need someone who was utterly fearless, but he also needed honest and trustworthy.
She didn’t even blink before she answered. “I very much enjoyed being the governess to his two daughters.”
“That is a very clever and diplomatic answer, Miss Kendall.” He offered her a begrudging smile because she had, inadvertently, passed his first test, drat her. Only an idiot could enjoy working forthat nitpicking and obnoxious peer. “But if you enjoyed being the Warleys’ governess so much, why did you leave their employ?”
“Because…” For the first time her gaze dipped to the hands clasped in her lap and her voice lost its sharp edge. “My mother lives here in Somerset and…” She sighed. “She isn’t getting any younger.” She stared for a while at her suddenly twiddling fingers before her lovely eyes lifted to his again. Still confident but definitely less confrontational. “London is two hundred miles away from where I presently need to be.”
“I see.” And he did. Leo knew the bond with your own flesh and blood was too strong to ignore. He understood, all too well, how harrowing it was to be worried about a loved one’s health. You felt powerless. Hopeless. The guilt ate at you constantly from within. If her mother was ill, then that was the very best reason that there was for leaving Lord Warley, so he quickly changed tack. “I also see that all your experience seems to be as a governess of young girls, whereas I need a social secretary and chaperone for two young ladies. They are very different roles.”
“Are they?” She frowned as if she thought that he was stupid to think so. “There are more similarities in the role of a governess and a chaperone than there are differences.”
“How so?” Leo found himself leaning closer. She was so animated when she spoke and so assured and… spirited. Like his nosy spaniel, he could barely take his eyes off her.
And, heaven help him but he liked that she wasn’t a shrinking violet too.
“A good governess has to have excellent organizational skills, your grace…” Perhaps it was his imagination, but he was sure her generous lips curled a bit atyour grace. “She needs to know precisely what is going on at any given time to ensure that she is one step ahead of it. Preferably two because children are unpredictable creatures. I did say as much in my application.” She flicked a finger toward it. “She has to find the delicate balance between the social interactionsof her charges and their schooling, which can be a challenge when one is fun and the other feels like a chore. Lord and Lady Warley’s daughters received many invitations, and it was my responsibility to respond appropriately to all, only accept the right ones, and ensure that they got there without incident. I often had to supervise them while they were there. Then, of course, I had to get them safely home again, which can be quite a challenge when they are overexcited from their visit and full of cake.”
Cake! If only the lone reason for his sisters’ frequent overexcitement was something quite so innocuous. “But Lord Warley’s daughters are children and my sisters are adults. Stubborn and often headstrong adults.” Leo had lost count of how many times he had been tempted to wring Abigail and Emilia’s necks this week. He had come bloody close to actually doing it an hour ago when he had discovered they were trying to sneak out of the back gate for their afternoon stroll without him while he was occupied with interviews. “Adults who both feel that they do not need chaperoning and, despite neither being of age, should still be able to do as they please.”
“Few react well to being told what to do—especially by an overbearing brother.” Apparently, on top of all the hostility, Miss Kendall was now insulting him. He was about to defend himself, because the last thing he needed was a bloody chaperone who wasn’t on his side either, when she huffed. “Assuming that they see you as the overbearing brother, that is.”
