Page 31 of What Lies Beneath

“No, indeed, though I cannot think you deserve worse if you stayed out all day yesterday in such freezing weather and improperly dressed. Layers is what one needs when it is so dreadfully cold, especially across the chest,” she said, remembering some salient points from the harsh reprimands she had received from her own governess when she had caught a chill after such carelessness.

“Are you scolding me?” the earl asked, amusement lurking in his eyes.

Regina put up her chin. “Well, someone needs to if you have not the sense to look after yourself properly. I believe I have a recipe somewhere for a mustard plaster,” she added, considering the notebook she had compiled over the years, full of useful information about things a governess surely ought to know. Some of this information had come from speaking to housekeepers and cooks at the various houses they stayed at, some from listening in on others' conversations, for whilst the earl and his family treated her with the utmost respect, some people acted as if she was not there at all.

“In the first place, I am in perfect health, and in the second, I could be at death’s door and I promise you no one is getting near me with a bloody mustard plaster,” he replied, sounding far more like himself.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she said scornfully. “You’ll do what is best for your health. There are many people who rely on you, my lord, and you will not endanger your health because you find such a treatment beneath your dignity.”

“I am not a baby,” he replied, his voice level, though his lips twitched, which was reassuring, for she had wondered if she had gone too far in comparing him to an infant. “But neither is my health in any danger. I am perfectly well.”

“Then why didn’t you eat your breakfast, and why do you look so flushed, and why are you behaving so oddly?” she added, skewering him with the kind of look she would give Tilly when she was certain the little minx was up to no good.

A series of emotions flitted behind his eyes, each of them gone too quickly for her to grasp them, but he pushed to his feet, throwing his napkin down on the table.

“Never mind that. I’m not hungry is all.”

Regina looked up at him, still concerned. “But you look tired. Didn’t you sleep well?”

“No!” he snapped irritably, and then took a breath and let it out again. “I beg your pardon, Mrs Harris. I did not sleep well. Indeed, I barely slept at all, but I have work to do. If you will forgive me. I believe I shall go and… and get on with it,” he said, and stalked from the room.

Regina watched him go, entirely unconvinced he wasn’t sickening for something, for she could not account for his strange behaviour in any other way.

Chapter 7

Dear Mrs Weston,

Firstly, congratulations! I am so happy for you. Mr Weston seems to be a true gentleman, and I am delighted to hear of your good fortune in having the manor restored to you.

As to the other matter, I beg you will forgive me for my cowardice. The truth is, I feared you would ask a lot of questions which I have no wish to answer at present. I hope one day I might return to my old life, but for the moment I prefer to live quietly and anonymously. I know I may rely on your discretion in allowing me to continue to do so.

I can imagine how excited you must be to be back in your own home for Christmas, and with a husband to share the festivities with. How fortunate you are, and how well deserved.

I should be honoured to count you my friend and hope that you will in return, consider me yours.

―Excerpt of a letter from Mrs Regina Harris to Mrs Magdelina Weston.

30th November 1850, Goshen Court, Monmouthshire.

For the next week, Pip did everything in his power to stay out of Mrs Harris’ company. It wasn’t easy, as he wished to spend time with his daughter and the two of them came as a matched set. Not that he minded. In truth, staying away from Mrs Harris was almost as torturous as being in company with Mrs Harris. Almost, but not quite.

Whenever he looked upon her now, he could not help but realise that he knew what lay beneath those tightly laced, prim little dresses, and the knowledge ate away at his peace of mind. It was worse than that, however, for the more time he spent out of her company, the more he realised how much he missed it. He had not realised how much time they spent together during an average day, even before he had invited her to come to his study and have a drink with him. Whilst she would never impose upon a conversation between him and Tilly unless invited to do so, he realised now that they often sought her opinion and wished for her to involve herself in their lives.

Little by little, over the course of the past five years, she had become something more than just a governess, but remained something less than a friend or relation. It was this that had bothered him, he realised. The night he had invited her to have a brandy with him, it had been this sense she ought not have such restraints upon her that he had wished to dispel. He did not wish her to be merely a governess, he wished her to be a friend too. That idea had been fraught with complications even before he had seen her naked. Now it was so dangerous he hardly dared think about it. Yet he could do nothing else but.

Then the dear creature had scolded him for staying out all day in the cold. He smiled, remembering how cross she had been, though she had given him a nasty moment there too. For a horrifying few seconds he had believed her omniscient, and that she had somehow realised he had spent the entire night plagued by erotic dreams about what might have happened if he had opened her bedroom door and stepped inside. Of course, in reality she’d likely have screamed and thrown things at him, but his arrogance was firmly enough in place that in his dreams she welcomed his arrival with open arms and a passion that matched his own.

Pip groaned and pushed the papers he’d been trying to read to one side. He put his head in his hands and wondered what he’d done to deserve such torment. Oh yes. Now he remembered, he thought with a snort of derision.

Perhaps this was the almighty’s idea of a joke, or maybe it was a test, to see if he really had changed his ways and become the man he had promised to be for his daughter’s sake. If it was a test, he was failing it and had been failing it for some time, devil take him.

Frustrated with himself and the situation, Pip reached for the newspapers that had arrived that morning and sifted through them. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, as his last avenue for a distraction was missing once again. Getting up, he pulled the bell cord and waited until Kerridge arrived a moment later.

“Where is His Grace and Disfavour?”

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but it never came,” Kerridge said apologetically.

Pip sighed. “Very well. I shall have to write and demand the missing copies are resent. Honestly, I have never had any problems with post arriving before. I’m certain someone must be taking them en route because they’re as desperate for the ending as I am.”