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“And while I do appreciate that you were trying to protect Celeste, your methods were entirely objectionable. I’m sad to say, your character, which I once believed to be above reproach, is wanting. You lack integrity, compassion, and discretion. And because of that, I’m afraid that I can no longer employ you as my daughter’s governess.”
Although it took some effort, Dominic pushed himself to his feet. “My sister, Lady Northam, will see to it that you find another situation. And if you even think of breathing a word about my fiancée’s pseudonym to another living soul”—he eyed the governess through slitted lids—“I’ll have you charged with blackmail, and you can be damn certain that you’ll never find employment with another peer’s family ever again. Who would want to hire a governess who cannot be trusted to keep confidences? But would instead wield them as a weapon?”
“Oh…Oh, Your Grace… I would never…” Miss Sharp had begun to wring her hands. Desperation and tears filled her eyes. “I promise you that I won’t say a thing. To anyone. Ever. I give you my word.”
“Under the circumstances, your word will not be enough. After such a betrayal, you no longer have one iota of my trust, Miss Sharp. I’ll have Morton draw up a contract—a confidentiality agreement so to speak—which I’ll have you sign before you leave. I expect you to be packed and gone from here by the end of the day. Which I’ll warrant is more time than you gave Miss Jones when you threatened her. Now you may go.” He nodded toward the door. “I have much to do.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I wish you well, Your Grace.” The apparently chastened governess dipped into a curtsy and then she hurried from the room. After the door closed behind her, Dominic was certain he heard a choked sob or two, but he had little sympathy for the perfidious, far too holier-than-thou woman.
He rang for Morton, and after instructing him what to put in Miss Sharp’s contract—the man possessed a law degree from Cambridge and had once practiced as a solicitor—Dominic settled into his favorite chair by the fireside and began to read Artemis’s book again. He probably should return to bed, but damn it, he needed to do something to keep his mind busy while he waited to hear back from his fiancée.
And Celeste had been right. The writing was exceptional. It was the sort of book that was impossible to put down.
