Page 4 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

Nicholas rolled his shoulders and wetted his lips. “Charlotte, it was difficult enough to find this governess; finding someone else will be nearly impossible. All the reputable governesses in Hertfordshire have heard about you and your antics and won’t set foot in this manor.”

“Good, they’re clever then,” Charlotte replied. For a child of not yet ten, she carried an immense amount of venom in her voice, which scared him at times and filled him with guilt as he knew this was as much his fault as hers.

He forced himself to remain calm, though his fingernails now dug into the wooden bedpost, scraping along the grooves.

“I shall find another governess for you, even if I must get one from another county. But Charlotte, hear me when I tell you this; it is your last chance. If you chase this governess away, I will have no choice but to send you to Mrs. Pocock’s seminary in Hungerford. Perhaps her piety and discipline are just what you need to drive this...” He waved his hand. “Whatever it is that makes you do such things out of you.”

Charlotte’s blue eyes grew wide, and she leaped off the bed, her small hands curled into fists.

“Go on then, Father. Send me. Why wait? We both know you’d rather not see me anymore.”

Her words pierced his heart, but he refused to show it.

“You’re my daughter, Charlotte. Of course, I wish to see you.”

“You lie. You lie!” she yelled and stomped her foot. “You never cared for me. Why didn’t you send me away long ago? We both know it’s what you want.”

Her eyes swam with tears which soon spilled over and rolled down her round cheeks, clung to her pert chin, and then dropped onto the ground, wetting the tip of her shoes.

“Charlotte,” he said quietly, but he had no words of comfort, for he could not deny that what she’d said was right. He hadn’t spent much time with her, and the more difficult she became, the less he wanted to change this. Nicholas had made many mistakes since claiming his horrid grandfather’s title. He’d hurt the people he’d loved the most and broken promises he ought to have kept. He’d gone against his heart’s desires and had done what was expected, and what had it gotten him? He was wealthy, respected and desperately unhappy. He sometimes wondered what his life might have been like had he returned to London. To her…

He shook his head, chasing the thoughts away. What was done was done. As he looked at the little girl now, he chewed his bottom lip and wondered just what was he to do with her? Or could it be that there was no hope left for either of them?

* * *

London

Lydia stomped down the narrow pavement, her footsteps echoing on the cobblestones. Her entire body felt stiff and tired from the four-hour journey in a crowded hackney. The other passengers had robbed her of her sleep with their chatter and disorderly behavior, so much so that she’d wanted to holler at them. Of course, she’d known deep down that such a desire was due to her anger at her unfair circumstances rather than anything else.

Now that she was home and the unpleasant scents of the city that had accompanied her walk home faded, the feeling of rage also evaporated. Instead, shame took its place, for hers was not a triumphant return home but a disgraceful one.

She stopped outside her father’s teashop; the closed sign had been spun around, and she tried to knob. Finding it locked, she knocked once, then a second time. The glass vibrated under her motion, and she peered inside only to see a woman’s figure coming her way.

“Lydia?” Caroline exclaimed as she swung the door open and embraced her so tight Lydia had to gasp for air. “I was not expecting you.” Caroline stepped back, and Lydia took in her younger sister. She was in her prime at three-and-twenty and should have been courting young gentlemen. Instead, her pale face showed the signs of the heavy burdens resting on her narrow shoulders. Since Lydia departed to work as a governess years ago, it had fallen to Caroline to look after their father and the shop.

His gout – an illness often associated with the wealthy who overindulged in wine and fatty foods – had become debilitating. Combined with the lingering melancholy that never removed its claws from him, even thirteen years after the death of his beloved wife, his illness had made him almost entirely bedridden. Lydia often suffered from a heavy conscious whenever she thought of Caroline’s life wasting away with the care of their father and her duties in the shop. Soon she would be an old maid, a spinster just like Lydia. Though unlike the latter, who’d never wanted to give away her heart again after her first love, the dastardly Duke of Queensberry, had so unceremoniously stomped on it, Caroline longed for love. She’d deny it if asked, but Lydia saw how her sister always looked longingly at couples passing by and how she read the marriage announcements in the scandal sheets with a keen eye.

“Lydia?” Caroline called, pulling her from her thoughts. “I asked how come you’re here.”

Lydia gulped down a lump that sat at the center of her throat.

“I was let go,” she mumbled as she stepped inside the old teashop. The familiar scents of lavender, chamomile, and assorted herbs lingered in the air. She closed her eyes and greedily inhaled as if the sweet aroma could chase away her latest failure.

“Let go?” Caroline exclaimed as she closed the door. The little bell chimed as Lydia turned and placed her leather portmanteau on the floor. “Why? I thought Sir Walter was happy with you. Did you not write that he said you were worth your salt, unlike his last governess?”

Lydia cringed, for the gentleman had praised her just a fortnight ago.

“That was before he discovered I was teaching his daughter things other than French, embroidery, and water coloring.”

Caroline’s chest inflated as she took a breath, bracing herself. The material of her white muslin gown stretched and settled once more as she exhaled. “Pray, what did you teach her that warranted your dismissal?” she asked with, fortunately, no judgment in her voice.

“Math and geography. And a bit of science. Sir Walter overhead me teaching her about the cosmos and swiftly let me go.” Her lower lip wobbled suddenly as the indignity of her termination resurfaced in her mind. “You ought to have seen them march me out of the house. All the servants stared at me. It was dreadful.” Her eyes welled with tears, and Caroline quickly embraced her. In her sister’s arms, Lydia finally let go of the restraints that had accompanied her on her journey, and she held it together no longer.

Tears streamed down her face, accompanied by sobs that eventually became whimpers. Finally, when she had no more tears, Caroline let her go and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket.

“Dry your eyes, sister. Do not waste another thought on these foolish people. One day, others will understand the value of a good education the way Mother and Father did,” she said gently. At the mention of their father, Lydia looked up.

“How is he?” She dreaded the answer as she saw how Caroline glanced up the rickety stairs.