Page 23 of Better Off Wed

The sound caused the governess to turn her eyes toward him again. “In answer to your question, my lord, I am perfectly well. I had never laid eyes on Lord Thornton until tonight. He spends most of his time in town, even when Parliament is not in session. Lady Thornton hired me in the spring, and we have been alone here in the country all summer. The children and I get on well, and I was most content in my post. Until Lord Thornton’s return was announced, that is, and I began to overhear the whispers among the maids. Even that, I should have dismissed—I abhor gossip as a general rule,” she defended herself. The knot into which she had twisted her fingers looked painful. “But Mrs. Tenney took me aside and advised me to look sharp. She says we must expect a houseful of his friends ’ere long, and to keep on my toes until they decide that someone else’s birds will provide better targets.”

Jeremy wondered whether the birds in question were of the sporting variety or the more metaphorical sort. The very thought of the women of the household forced to steel themselves against the men’s expected behavior made something twist in his gut, a sort of sick feeling, a mingling of disgust and pity, and another sensation altogether outside his previous experience: a burning desire to curl his fingers into a fist and plant Thornton a facer, followed by each one of his so-called friends.

“Oh, I see now,” Miss Godfrey said suddenly, brightening. “You aren’t injured at all, are you, Lady Sterling? You knew Lord Thornton had a preference for male company and decided that a gentleman’s assistance was required in the case. Your ankle is just a ruse, to get Lord Sterling into the house. Brilliant!”

Though he would not claim to know Miss Hopkins well, he had experience enough with military matters to recognize the battle brewing behind her eyes. Her determined independence was prepared to lead a charge against the unwelcome assumption that she required assistance from anyone, let alone a gentleman. He half expected her to leap to her feet to prove her fitness, as she had tried to do in the pub.

But she was also susceptible to Miss Godfrey’s flattery, or—as she no doubt preferred to think of it—was astute enough to see that the governess’s explanation for his presence could prove useful. Her lips had been parted to speak, but after a moment’s hesitation, she closed them instead and gave a rather regal-looking nod of acknowledgment. “Gentleman do, on occasion, have their uses,” she said, glancing at him almost dismissively.

In spite of himself, he bristled. “Other than a means of acquiring a title, do you mean?” When Miss Godfrey’s eyes snapped to him, he forced a laugh. “That’s my clever wife. But it strikes me that you are also clever, Miss Godfrey,” he said. “In fact, I suspect you had some reason for suggesting that Lady Thornton put us in the blue room, did you not?”

Slightly behind her, Miss Hopkins rolled her eyes.

“I—well, perhaps I will have misjudged, for in the green bedroom, you would have been closer to Lord and Lady Thornton’s chambers. But I did think…”

“Yes?”

“You’re closer here to the servants’ stairs.”

“Ah,” Miss Hopkins said. “That will indeed make it easier to get from place to place without being seen.”

“The schoolroom and the nursery are just above, so I can slip down here more easily without drawing attention to myself, should—should my help be required,” she added, sounding surprised by her own boldness.

“And what is below?”

“Lord Thornton’s study.”

The slightest frown wrinkled Miss Hopkins’s brow as she lifted a finger to her lips and tapped thoughtfully. She offered no explanation for her meditative pose, and in another moment, the skin of her forehead smoothed.

“You should go, Miss Godfrey, before you are missed.”

“The children are with their parents this evening,” she made the excuse, even as she got quickly to her feet. “I am unlikely to be wanted.”

“Until Lord Thornton decides it is necessary to make a visit to the schoolroom,” Miss Hopkins reminded her, her head tilted in a sort of gentle scold. “But wait,” she said just as Miss Godfrey stepped toward the door. “Have you a hatpin, Miss Godfrey?”

The governess looked as bewildered by the question as Jeremy felt. “No, my lady.”

Miss Hopkins reached for her reticule and fished inside, eventually withdrawing an object which she displayed on her palm.

Miss Godfrey leaned forward to see it, temporarily blocking his view. “Oh!”

When she stood upright again, he saw a pretty jeweled pin, the bauble on one end larger than the sort favored even by dandies, and the stick itself almost a hand’s breadth long. The point was blunted by a small ball of wool, rather like an absurd pincushion, out of all proportion to the pin. With nimble fingers, Miss Hopkins unsheathed the pin from the cushion; the sharp tip gleamed in the firelight.

“One of my preferred methods of self-protection, Miss Godfrey. Easy enough to have about when one is wearing a hat, of course, but as you can see, I make sure never to be without a weapon. Take it,” she said, reaching out her arm toward the governess. “Put it under your pillow tonight and find some way to have it at hand tomorrow and in the days that follow. And for God’s sake, if Thornton approaches you, use it.”

Miss Godfrey leaned away from the proffered pin in alarm. “Stab him, you mean?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Good heavens! Where?”

“In whatever soft spot he is ungentlemanly enough to expose to you.”

Though he felt no pity for Thornton or his ilk, Jeremy could not entirely suppress a wince.

With some trepidation, Miss Godfrey palmed the hatpin, curtsied to Miss Hopkins and belatedly to him, and hurried to the door.

When they were alone again, he asked, “Are you regularly in the habit of handing out hatpins and doling out such advice to your clients? If so, it’s a wonder there is a still a man on this island foolish enough to put a hand where it isn’t wanted.”