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Celeste nodded and huggedJane Eyreto her chest like a talisman that might ward off further misfortune or evil. Even though a pair of footmen were in the process of lighting the wall-mounted gas lamps, their soft golden radiance didn’t quite dispel the deep shadows that were gathering like ghosts. Raindrops slid like tears down a nearby windowpane.
Beneath Celeste’s veneer of quiet courage, Artemis detected an undercurrent of apprehension, and she wanted to offer comfort. She reached out and touched the girl’s arm. “I’m afraid I must return to Cadogan Square. Just to pick up a few things that I need. But when I return, shall I join you for dinner? We could have trays sent up and dine in your sitting room if you’d like.” Horatia and Edward had already repaired to their town house for the evening to see their boys and for some much-needed rest.
Celeste’s mouth lifted into a thankful smile. “I would like that. Very much.” After glancing about to perhaps ascertain that they were completely alone—the footmen had since disappeared through a nearby jib door leading to the servants’ stairs—she leaned closer to Artemis. “I’ve finished rereadingLady Violetta and the Vengeful VampyreandLady Guinevere and the Ghastly Ghost. But if you happened to have a spare copy ofLady Sophia and the Seductive Sorcerer, I’d be most grateful if you could lend it to me,” she said in a low voice. “It’s the only book by Lydia Lovelace that I haven’t read. Well, aside fromLady Mirabella and the Midnight Monk.”
“Of course, I’ll bring back a copy,” said Artemis. “Miss Lovelace will even sign it for you.”
At last, Celeste’s smile lit her eyes. “I would love that.” But then her brow creased. “I hope it doesn’t sound dreadful to say this, but your stories provide a much welcome respite from everything that’s going on with Papa. I know he doesn’t approve of your books, but I need them.”
Artemis offered a reassuring smile. “It’s not dreadful at all, and I know exactly what you mean. We all need a little diversion sometimes, and I, too, rely on a good book to help me escape from reality time and time again. I might even venture to say that the reason I took up writing in the first place was that it gave me a fantasy world of my own creation to run away to whenever life seemed too hard.”
“I’m so glad you understand. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
To Artemis’s amazement, Celeste leaned forward and placed a swift kiss upon her cheek. “Hurry back, won’t you?” she said. “It’s getting dark and it’s horrid outside and we can’t have you catching a cold. Papa needs you. And so do I.”
With that utterly astonishing pronouncement, the duke’s daughter stepped away and then hurried down the hall toward her own suite of rooms.
“Well, I never,” murmured Artemis. Despite all the fear and uncertainty that seemed to be her constant companions, she felt her mouth curving in smile. And her heart glowed.
Celeste clearly loved her books, but maybe the girl—no, young woman—might possess a little bit of affection for her too.
A pleasant warmth still humming through her veins, Artemis turned, intending to head toward the main staircase, but then a soft creak behind her made her pause. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the jib door had swung open, and Miss Sharp was emerging from the deeply shadowed recess, her wide-as-a-church-bell skirts swaying with each smart, purposeful step she took. “May I have a word with you, Miss Jones?” she called.
Frowning, Artemis turned back. The governess’s tone was frosty, her expression as hard as arctic ice, and a shiver of apprehension slid over Artemis. Nevertheless, she stayed her ground and said with relatively smooth politeness, “Of course, Miss Sharp. What can I do for you?”
“I know who you are,” the governess fired at her without preamble. “And I know you gave Lady Celeste copies of your foul, poorly written books.”
Oh, Beelzebub’s ballocks.Artemis attempted to swallow past a boulder-sized lump of fear jamming her throat. “I–I don’t know what you mean—” she began, but Miss Sharp cut her off with a slice of her hand.
“Don’t even bother trying to lie to me. You can deny it all you like, but I overheard your conversation with Lady Celeste in her room at Ashburn Abbey. When she was ill and you gave her a pile of your wicked books to make her feel better. You might purport to be a forward-thinking, open-minded bluestocking, but Iknowthat you’ve been hiding the fact you’re that vulgar author, Lydia Lovelace. Indeed, you confirmed it again mere moments ago.”
Artemis’s own temper flared. “And you were eavesdropping on a private conversation. Again. You seem to have made a habit of listening at keyholes, yet you have the nerve to accusemeof being vulgar.”
Indignation flashed in Miss Sharp’s eyes. “And it was a good thing that I did eavesdrop. Someone has to protect Lady Celeste from someone like you. A sinful woman who’s invaded His Grace’s home and infected his innocent daughter’s mind with her vile books and even viler presence. To think that you were once a governess and a teacher at a young ladies’ academy.” Her mouth flattened with contempt. “You make me sick.”
“If you’ve known all this for so long, why didn’t you say anything sooner? To me, or to His Grace for that matter? Before we even quit Ashburn Abbey? You had days to expose my secret.”
The governess glared at her through slitted lids. “I kept telling myself it wasn’t my place to interfere. That I’d already created enough friction between Lady Celeste and her father when I first brought your hideous books to his attention weeks ago. But after hearing your exchange with Lady Celeste just now, I realize how deep your hooks have become embedded in her. How insidious your wicked influence. How much you’ve corrupted her mind. I’m certain it was your ridiculous books that put ideas in her head about love and romance and running away in search of an adventure in the first place. She never even looked at Antonio Moretti before then. But all of this, your sway over her, has to stop.”
“What do you mean ‘stop’?”
Miss Sharp advanced and poked a finger at Artemis’s chest. “I want you gone from here. Out of her life and the duke’s.”
“You ask the impossible. I can’t just abandon Lady Celeste and His Grace. Not now when he’s fighting so hard for his life. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.”
“And you expect far too much. For someone of your inferior station—with such a shocking profession and clearly no morals to speak of—to think that you could rise above all of that and become the next Duchess of Dartmoor, let alone the patroness of a young ladies’ college, you must be stark-raving mad. You’re not fit to empty the duke’s chamber pot. In fact, you’re no better than a street whore. Indeed, the way you’ve been carrying on with the duke behind closed doors…” Her mouth twisted with derision. “Don’t think the rest of the staff haven’t noticed. They might have remained tight-lipped about your wanton behavior, but I certainly wouldn’t be doingmyduty if I didn’t try to protect Lady Celeste from your pernicious influence.” She set her fisted hands on her hips and lifted her chin. “Call off your engagement and leave. At once. Or else.”
“For goodness’ sake. Speak plainly,” Artemis snapped. “Or else what?”
“I’ll go to Lord and Lady Northam and tell them everything. And His Grace when he is well enough. And your aunt, Lady Wagstaff. I’m sure she doesn’t know. I might even go to the newspapers myself. Imagine the humiliating headlines.Salacious Gothic Romantic Novelist’s Identity Revealed. Your reputation will be ruined forevermore. You willneverbe able to open your college.”
“And in the process, you would also damage the reputation of the duke—your employer,” Artemis fired back. “Do you really think that’s such an astute move to make?”
“The scandal would be short lived, for him at least, and worth it to cut you out of his life and Lady Celeste’s.”
Artemis’s hands curled into fists within the folds of her skirts. Outrage warred with her hard-to-restrain mulish streak along with a sizable dose of fear. She didn’t want to capitulate, but it seemed that for the moment, she had little choice but to yield a fraction. The consequences would be dire if she didn’t. She’d never survive a public scandal of such magnitude. All of her dreams would be shattered beyond repair. Ground to dust beneath the booted heel of a far-too-smug, sanctimonious governess.
“All right, Miss Sharp,” she managed from between stiff lips. “I will remove myself from the environs of Dartmoor House. For now. But when I hear that His Grace is on the road to recovery, I will return and tell him myself that I am Lydia Lovelace, at which point, our engagement will undoubtedly end. What Iwon’tdo is leave a note and skulk away like some spineless thief in the night. His Grace deserves an explanation. To his face.”
