Page 83 of The Governess and the Rogue

Lady Allendale looked at Bea too, her smile freezing on her lips. “Not a diversion, my love. A fiancée.”

Bea’s spine stiffened under their regard. She was no stranger to scrutiny. She’d been examined countless times by previous employers—dressed down, raked over, dismissed. This wasn’t so very different.

Except that it was.

Jack was beside her, once again taking her hand. Her friend in truth, even if he wasn’t her fiancé. And these were his parents. His much-loved parents. Bea wanted them to think well of her.

“Mother, father,” Jack said. “Allow me to present Miss Beatrice Layton. Bea, these are my parents, Lord and Lady Allendale.”

There was a brief silence. Bea had the sensation that everyone except for the earl and countess was holding their breath. And then⁠—

“Miss Layton,” Lady Allendale said. “We are very pleased to meet you.”

“And very surprised,” Lord Allendale added dryly. “But Jack wouldn’t be Jack if he wasn’t delivering us the unexpected.”

Bea curtsied. “My lady. My lord. It is an honor.”

Outside, the crunch of carriage wheels on the drive announced the arrival of the first of the guests. More carriage wheels sounded in quick succession, followed by the swell of voices as people disembarked from their conveyances and climbed the stone steps to the door. By the general noise, one would think it was a horde descending.

“We expect the whole of Maidenbridge,” St. Clare said to his parents. “They’re eager to welcome home the conquering hero.”

Jack shot a warning look at his brother. “Enough of this hero nonsense. If this is to be a celebration, let it be for my engagement.”

A trace of a smile edged St. Clare’s mouth. “As you wish.”

Hannah effortlessly guided the Beresfords into their receiving line. All except for Lady Allendale, who lingered for a moment longer in front of Bea.

“Hannah was wise to bring you here to Beasley,” her ladyship said. “And to summon us all to join you. I mean for you and I to become better acquainted during your stay.”

Bea’s heart hammered. She didn’t know how to reply. She wouldn’t be staying after today. Tonight was the night she and Jack’s fake engagement came to an end. That’s what they’d agreed to.

She gave him a discreet glance, anticipating that he would be sharing her thoughts as he so often seemed to do. But Jack only smiled.

And then he winked at her.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jack sat back in his chair on the edge of the polished wood floor as the village musicians brought another country dance to a close.

The ballroom was as elegantly adorned and brilliantly lit as it had been during the countless other balls that had taken place at Beasley in his lifetime. He recalled creeping down the marble stairs to spy on the guests as a child in company with Ivo and Kate, all of them too young to attend the ball themselves. And then there were the balls at Beasley that Jack had been permitted to attend. The 20-piece orchestras, the blazing chandeliers, and the dances with comely widows, young wives, and local squires’ daughters.

Jack had always been in demand.

He still was, much to his chagrin.

Despite the lure of the dancing, there were many who had chosen to remain in the chairs around him. Local gentlemen talking his ear off, and scores of Maidenbridge ladies bringing him punch as though he were an invalid. As the evening progressed, some of them had dissipated, leaving only the village’s balding, middle-aged doctor and his kindly spinster daughter in attendance.

“A welcome home dinner might have been wiser,” the doctor remarked from his chair beside Jack for what must be the tenth time. “You could have sat through the whole of it.”

“Oh, but a ball is so joyous,” the doctor’s daughter declared. “And you don’t mind not dancing, do you Colonel Beresford?”

Jack forced another smile. The truth was, he minded like the very devil. But not enough to damage his leg just as it was making a recovery. And not enough to embarrass himself, clinging to Bea in place of his cane as they shuffled through an approximation of a waltz.

She had been dancing since the opening set. First with Ivo, then with Charles, then with James. Even Jack’s father had partnered her for a dance.

Jack couldn’t tell if Bea was enjoying any of it. It was difficult to see her clearly in such a crush. He was grateful when the musicians played their final notes and the dancers at last withdrew from the floor.

Bea was among them, looking flushed and pretty in her low-cut fitted bodice and profusion of amber lace skirts.