Read Seducing the Governess Online
Authors: Margo Maguire
“Nash! Oh yes!”
“Mercy, love—if we don’t find you a safe place—”
Mercy had no chance to savor Nash’s brief proposal before the door above them opened and a bruised and battered man in a dark greatcoat came through it. “Lord Ashby, he is not here. But we must get—”
“Who? Who is not here, Nash?” Mercy asked, feeling quite alarmed.
“Captain Briggs, allow me to present my fiancée, Miss Franklin.”
“Ma’am.” Briggs gave a quick nod. “We need to get you to a safe location, where there are not so many people about.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain everything later,” Captain Briggs said. “But we need to go. Now.”
* * *
Ashby procured a private sitting room in the inn, and the two men checked the doors and windows before Gavin felt that he could at least partially let down his guard. He had seen no sign of Bertie anywhere near the inn, but he knew the man could be lying in wait somewhere.
Or he could have given up on Mercy and already be on his way to Edinburgh, looking for Christina.
Fortunately, Lord Ashby had brought a number of his men with him when he’d left the army, so Miss Franklin ought to be safe enough when they returned to Ashby Hall.
Gavin studied Windermere’s granddaughter and tried to fathom how the old curmudgeon could possibly be grandfather to such a delicate beauty.
“What’s this all about, Briggs?” Ashby asked.
He’d put his arm around Miss Franklin’s waist, though the woman did not look as though she needed much support. She was clearly a hardy soul, and ready for the news Gavin brought.
He removed Windermere’s warrants from his coat and handed them to Ashby. “My lord, my mission was to find a young lady bearing the name Mercy Franklin.”
Ashby and Miss Franklin read the document together. The earl looked up at Gavin, frowning, and then spoke in measured words. “What is the meaning of this document, Briggs? What has the Duke of Windermere to do with Mercy?”
Miss Franklin frowned with puzzlement as she read the document. Of course, it contained nothing beyond Briggs’s authority to search for Windermere’s granddaughters.
“As it happens,” Gavin explained, “in the past few weeks, I have followed a trail from the duke’s estate in the lake country down to London . . . from the connections of Sarah and Daniel Hayes, and then to the rectory of Reverend Robert Franklin. All in search of Windermere’s granddaughter—Reverend Franklin’s ward.”
Miss Franklin dropped the duke’s letter to the ground. Ashby tightened his arm around her waist.
“Explain, Briggs.” Ashby’s tone was harsh and demanding, as Gavin supposed his own would be if their situations were reversed.
“Of course. Miss Franklin,” Gavin said, “perhaps you ought to take a seat while I tell you what I’ve learned.”
She did so, though Ashby remained close by, keeping her hand in his.
“You were orphaned at the age of three.”
Her brow creased and Ashby gave a gentle squeeze of her hand.
“Your mother was Sarah Barton, the daughter of Hadley Barton, Duke of Windermere. When she married Daniel Hayes—your father—the duke disowned her.”
“Why?” The word was a mere wisp of air, and Gavin was unsure how to answer it. Rejecting one’s own young? It boggled his mind, although his own father was just such a cold-hearted bastard.
“I cannot explain it with any certainty. Mr. Hayes was a well respected, successful barrister in London, but he had no noble blood.”
“And that is why . . . ?” She turned to meet Lord Ashby’s eyes, then looked back at Gavin. “What was my name? What was the name my parents gave me?”
“Lily. You were Lily Isabella Hayes.”
A gasping sob escaped her, and Ashby knelt and drew her into his arms while she wept. He caressed her back and murmured quiet, private words in her ear. When she had calmed, she wiped her eyes. “What else?” she asked him. “What more can you tell me of my family?”
“Your grandfather is very ill,” Gavin replied. “Dying. He regrets his actions now, and wishes to make amends. To you . . . and to your sister.”
“My—my sister?”
“Yes. Christina.”
“Chris
tina
. Oh, Nash,” Mercy cried, and Ashby held her close. “I remember now. She was Teeny. My Teeny.”
“She was your twin, Miss Frankl— Miss Hayes.”
It took several minutes for Mercy to compose herself. “I’m not sure I care to meet my grandfather,” she finally said, and Nash could not blame her.
“I can certainly understand that, Miss Hayes,” Briggs said, though he frowned in consternation. Nash realized the man would not likely receive payment if he didn’t produce the Hayes sisters for their grandfather.
“I would like to meet my sister though.” Her voice sounded stronger now.
“That can be arranged . . . as soon as I find her.”
Nash spoke up. “Is there anything we can do to assist in the search, Briggs? I take it Christina might also be in danger?”
“ ’Tis likely, and I believe the danger to Miss Franklin, er . . . Miss Hayes—has diminished significantly. There are far too many witnesses here. Everyone will soon know that Mercy Franklin is Windermere’s granddaughter, so Bertie will be less inclined to strike.”
“Bertie?”
“The heir’s man.”
Ashby scowled. “Windermere’s heir does not want the duke’s kin found?”
“That’s the only conclusion I could come to. Baron Chetwood is not what I would call an upstanding subject of the crown. And the two sisters are to receive a substantial inheritance out of the duke’s estate. My belief is that Chetwood intended to prevent that. He is a greedy sot.”
Mercy stood abruptly and wrapped her arms tightly around her. “Where is my sister? You said Edinburgh.”
Nash would have gone to her, but he realized she needed a moment to collect her thoughts and gather her emotions.
“Twenty years ago, Christina was taken to a family in Edinburgh. I don’t have much to go on at the moment, but there will be clues . . . There are always clues,” Briggs said.
Mercy, or Lily, as Nash needed to start thinking of her, walked quietly to the door. He went to her then, and stood behind her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders.
“I’ll go to him,” she said, “but only for the inheritance he wants to give me. I’ll have a dowry then—”
“Lily,” he said softly, loving the sound of her pretty name. Her back seemed to melt against his chest. “Don’t do it for me. We’ll be all right without taking anything from Windermere.”
“No. I think I
do
want to see him,” she said. “I want to see the viper who separated my sister and me, the man who would not take us in when our parents died. And then I’ll take his money . . . for Ashby.”
Nash pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Aye, then. We’ll go. But not until after we’re married.”
M
ercy did not know if she would ever become accustomed to being called Lily, but she was going to try.
They had returned to Ashby Hall under heavy escort, and then secured the house against any intruders, although none of Nash’s men had found signs of any. Captain Briggs had said he would leave at first light to get ahead of Bertie in his search for Christina. And he was a man who evoked one’s trust.
“Lily, my sweet Lily.” Mercy loved hearing her true name on Nash’s lips, and she wanted to leave behind every trace of her old life with the Franklins. She leaned back into Nash’s arms as she stood in his bedchamber, looking out at the tall, dark fells that surrounded Ashby Hall.
He stood behind her in the candlelight, nuzzling the side of her neck. “Have you any idea how very deeply I am in love with you, Lily Hayes?”
She smiled and he turned her around, then started working on the fastenings of her beautiful ball gown, pressing light, tantalizing kisses across her shoulders as he did so. When the gown was fully opened, she shrugged her shoulders free of it and slid her arms up to Nash’s strong, broad shoulders.
He drew her into his arms as carefully as he would handle a delicate bit of china. “You are so very precious to me. You complete me in a way no one else ever could.”
She cupped his face and brought him down for her kiss, molding her body against his.
“I am so sorry about your brothers, Nash. Mr. Carew’s actions were unforgivable.”
He swallowed, but said naught. She felt his sorrow to the roots of her soul, and vowed to be his comfort for the rest of their lives.
“You know we needn’t go to Windermere, love,” he murmured.
She pressed kisses to his jaw and neck. She spread his shirt wide and allowed her lips to wander lower, to his throat, his chest. She knew how he loved it when she touched his nipples with her tongue.
Nearly as much as she did.
“I’ll only go to make us safe,” Lily replied. Captain Briggs said he believed there would continue to be a threat from her grandfather’s heir, but only until Lily claimed her bequest. After that, Baron Chetwood would have no reason to eliminate her, for the gift could not be un-given.
“I’ll keep you safe, my love.” He took her mouth in a searing kiss, then broke away, touching his forehead lightly to hers. “I do not know how you reached so very far into my heart. But you are everything to me, my audacious little governess. Let us ride to Gretna tomorrow and make our vows. I do not want to wait for the banns to be read.”
Lily smiled and touched his face, answering with a heartfelt whisper. “Yes.”
M
any thanks to my agent, Paige Wheeler, who helps me to keep my eye on the next level; and to my editor, Amanda Bergeron, whose clear critique and sharp insights were invaluable.
S
EDUCING THE
G
OVERNESS
T
HE
R
OGUE
P
RINCE
T
AKEN BY THE
L
AIRD
W
ILD
T
EMPTATION OF THE
W
ARRIOR
A W
ARRIOR’S
T
AKING
T
HE
P
ERFECT
S
EDUCTION
T
HE
B
RIDE
H
UNT
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Margo Wider
ISBN 978-0-06-201821-2
EPub Edition © 2011 ISBN: 9780062074553
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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