Claire looked at the people he pointed out. Sure enough, they were exactly as he described.
“But take Lord Percival and Lady Montgomery. See how bored they look with each other? I have it on good authority that when he visits her bedchamber tonight, both of them will be far from bored. One can even hear the sounds of their entertainment through the walls, or so I am told.”
Claire stiffened and felt herself flush. “Sir, you overstep our acquaintance. This is inappropriate conversation.”
Mr. Blatherly moved away from her. “My apologies, Miss Bannister. I forgot that governesses are the paragons of propriety that teach our children. It appears that mine failed to impart these important lessons upon me. Perhaps if she had looked more like you, I would have paid more attention.”
Claire was saved from his awkward flirting by Lady Aldgate’s beckoning. “Excuse me sir,” she said and hurried over to her employer.
“I see you conversing with Mr. Blatherly, Miss Bannister.” Lady Aldgate’s tone held a hint of rebuke. “He is here courting Lady Tusset’s eldest daughter. It would not do for you to think too highly of yourself.”
Claire looked at the floor and nodded. “My apologies, my lady.”
“It would be best for you to retire for the evening,” Lady Aldgate said. “We no longer require your presence in the evenings. Lady Wroth has sent word, and we expect her arrival tomorrow.”
“Very good, my lady. Thank you.” Claire curtseyed and left the library, relief flooding her. She was glad to escape the guests. Even with those that showed her kindness, Claire felt judged by the peers. And found lacking. She longed for Jacob and hurried her steps to the nursery.
“Miss Bannister.”
Claire automatically stopped and turned at the voice calling her. She rested her hand on the newel post. “Mr. Blatherly,” she greeted, a little breathless.
He climbed the stairs toward her. “I did not mean to scare you away,” he said with a smile.
She returned his smile politely. “Lady Aldgate no longer requires my presence.”
“Ah. I am gratified it was nothing I did.” Mr. Blatherly reached the top of the stairs and stood an appropriate distance away.
“Indeed not, sir. You were very kind and considerate to me.” Claire bobbed him a small curtsey. “If you will excuse me, sir, I am retiring. The children rise early in the morning.” She turned and started to make her way down the corridor.
She startled when she felt Mr. Blatherly’s hand on her elbow. “Allow me to escort you to your room, Miss Bannister.” He took her hand and tucked it underneath his, covering her hand with his.
Claire tried to pull her hand away, but he held onto to it tightly. “I do not think that would be appropriate, Mr. Blatherly.”
He continued to smile at her. It wasn’t threatening in any way, but Claire still felt uncomfortable. “It is always an honor to escort a lovely young woman, Miss Bannister.”
She managed to tug her hand away. “I must insist, sir. I wish to retire alone.”
His smile began to fade somewhat. “I have been nothing but solicitous. Surely I deserve some reward. Escorting you to your room is a small thing to ask.”
“It is not small to me, sir , if I am to be honest with you. If it were found out, I could lose my position.”
“It is just a governess position, Miss Bannister.”
“To you perhaps, but it is my livelihood. A dismissal and poor character reference would ruin me.”
Mr. Blatherly began to smile an all-too-different smile. “You would be welcome to come to me for employment, my dear.”
Claire raised her eyebrows at this. “I was unaware you had young children,. My congratulations.”
He chuckled. “Nice try. But I am not in need of a governess.”
Claire moved away from him toward the nursery stairs. “Then there is no position for me in your household.”
Mr. Blatherly grabbed her elbow and turned her to face him, pressing her against the wall. “It wasn’t my household I was thinking of, my dear. I would set you up in your own.” He brushed some hair away from her face. “Surely you do not need me to spell this out for you. You are an intelligent woman.” He stepped closer to her, pressing his pelvis into her belly, ensuring she knew exactly what his intentions were.
When his head began to lower toward hers, his lips puckered in an unmistakable form, Claire deliberately turned her head away from him. “I am betrothed, sir.”
She heard and felt him smell her hair. “I can offer you more than a fumbling footman, my dear. A year with me will bring you more reward than a lifetime with him.”
Claire’s indignation was mounting. “Release me at once, sir, or I will scream.”
A chuckle and a kiss to her neck. “And risk your position, the one you defended so thoroughly moments ago? Just a kiss, sweetheart, and I will let you go for the night.”
“I will not betray my betrothed, sir.” Her voice was firm and she pushed against his chest.
“Betrothal means so little in my world, marriage even less.”
“Yet it is everything in mine,” Claire replied.
“And in mine,” a soft, dark voice said behind them.
Claire sagged against the wall in relief.
Jacob
. “Mr. Blatherly was just leaving, Jacob.”
The man in question stepped away from her, releasing Claire from the wall. She moved away from him gratefully. Seeing Jacob standing in the nearby shadows calmed her nerves considerably.
“The fumbling footman, I presume,” Blatherly drawled.
“I am no footman.” Claire recognized the anger in Jacob’s voice, even if Blatherly did not.
She placed a hand on Jacob’s arm, hoping to soothe him. “Nothing happened.”
His voice remained tight. “You and I have different definitions of ‘nothing’.” The sound of voices drifted up the stairs. Other guests were leaving the library. Jacob dropped a quick kiss on her temple. “Go to your room and wait for me.”
Not wishing to provoke him further, Claire moved to the servants’ stairs. The guests’ voices were getting louder, and Claire had no wish to be caught in the corridor with two men.
“Say, do I know you from somewhere?” Blatherly asked Jacob.
“I highly doubt it.” Jacob quickly racked his brain, but the man remained unfamiliar.
“I am pretty sure our paths have crossed. Are you a member of Brooks?”
“Do I look like I would belong to Brooks?” Jacob’s tone was snide. White’s was the family club.
“Mind your tone, Mr. Knightly,” Lady Aldgate’s voice called out down the hallway. Claire froze a merely two steps from the entrance to the servants’ stairs. “Mr. Blatherly is the son of Baron Blatherly.”
Still didn’t ring a bell, thank God. “With all due respect, Lady Aldgate, I don’t care if the man is first cousin to the king. He was molesting Miss Bannister.”
Claire slid her eyes shut. She had hoped to still sneak away, escaping the notice of her employer.
The ladies’ gasps echoed in the corridor. “Such language in the presence of your betters,” Lady Aldgate trilled. “And accusing a peer of the realm? You will pay with your job, sirrah.”
“I don’t give a rat’s as—”
“Jacob.” Claire’s quiet voice stopped him. “Please don’t.”
“Ah, the Jezebel,” Lady Aldgate sneered. Jacob’s jaw visibly tightened. Mr. Blatherly smirked. “I did warn you, girl.”
“Warn her of what?” Lord Aldgate interrupted the scene. “What is going on here, wife?”
“I warned Miss Bannister not to set her sights on someone as high as Mr. Blatherly. Yet she was just seen in the man’s arm. Accosting him, no doubt, in the hopes of bettering her station. Shameful.”
Jacob glared at Lady Aldgate before turning to her husband. “It was Mr. Blatherly doing the molesting. I saw it.”
“Are you sure we haven’t met?” Blatherly persisted, looking at Jacob quite intently.
“Are you going to take the word of a tutor over that of our guest?” Lady Aldgate demanded of her husband.
Lord Aldgate released a long-suffering sigh. “I haven’t done anything yet, wife.” The last word was bitten out.
“Well, if Mr. Knightly is defending her, I am sure it is because he is in expectation of favors.”
Claire’s face reddened as the ladies twittered and giggled, pretending to be shocked. She hated this part of her job, the unfounded accusations merely because she was in service. As if that made her untrustworthy in and of itself.
“Mr. Blatherly,” Lord Aldgate turned to the younger man. “What is your accounting of the situation?”
“I came upon Miss Bannister returning to the nursery,” he said. “I saw her walking unsteadily and offered my escort. I know her to be tired, and likely she had imbibed more than she was used to—and on finer quality of spirits as well. Anything that may have happened has been misconstrued.”
“That is a bald-faced lie,” Jacob said, advancing on Blatherly. “I saw you pressing her against the wall and she was refusing your attentions.” He stood nose to nose with the man.
“Mr. Knightly,” Lord Aldgate warned. “That is enough. I cannot do anything when there are two contradicting accounts. Miss Bannister, return to the nursery. Mr. Blatherly, I apologize for this inconvenience, but please await me down in the library. Mr. Knightly, I will call for you later.”
The group began to disperse, seeing the drama was over. Jacob stepped away from Blatherly reluctantly, fury still pounding in his veins.
To think this man had his hands on Claire
.
Blatherly’s innocent face took on a smirk. “You’re lucky I don’t like an audience, otherwise you would have seen more than just her against the wall.”
Jacob’s right cross pounded against Blatherly’s jaw, throwing him against the wall. He slid down to the floor with a stunned expression. Shrieks and shouts from the guests filled the hallway, and Lord Aldgate rushed to Blatherly’s aid. Several of the women began to swoon.
Jacob turned on his heel and grabbed Claire’s elbow. “Let’s go, Claire,” he growled, directing her to the nursery stairs.
“That’s it,” Blatherly croaked behind him. “You’re the Earl of Rimmel.”
Jacob froze.
Blatherly began to struggle to his feet. “What in bloody hell are you doing here? I thought you were missing.”
“You are mistaken, Blatherly,” Lord Aldgate said. “Mr. Knightly is our son’s tutor.”
“No, he is Rimmel, son of the Duke of Maberly,” Blatherly insisted. “I may have been three years behind him at Eton, but I recognize him now. He was famous in the halls for his toasties and right cross.”
Oh, bloody hell.
J
acob stared at himself in the mirror. The man in the reflection was one of the most familiar sights in his life, aside from longer hair than usual. Lord Aldgate had lent him the services of his valet and the use of a luxurious guest room for his transformation from Jacob Knightly, tutor, to the Earl of Rimmel. The clothes had needed some pressing, having been packed away at the bottom of his trunk, but now the man in the mirror sported a perfectly tailored bottle-green coat, pristine white cravat and collar, a cream-colored waistcoat, and brown pantaloons fitted tightly. Yes, it was a familiar sight.
Yet it no longer seemed right, seemed complete. The eyes were different. They still had the same confidence, the same basic self-assurance, yet there was something missing. The contentment was gone. And Jacob knew that it would not return, not without Claire.
Jacob sighed and turned away from the mirror, running his hand through his hair. She had disappeared when his identity had been revealed, and Jacob hadn’t seen her since, her door locked and no response. Granted, he had been whisked away by Lord Aldgate, but her door had been guarded by Lucy upon his return; she had not been in the mood to help him. Not knowing what Claire was thinking or how she was reacting to the revelation was eating at him.
There was only one way to find out. Jacob had the morbid thought that he now could relate to men walking to the gallows.
I
t was odd, hearing the children’s chatter coming from the nursery. Jacob had expected there to be silence, subdued talking at the most, not this laughter and high-pitched talking. It didn’t seem right; it didn’t reflect the burden his soul was carrying. He supposed this was one more lesson he was learning about how the world did not revolve around him.
Jacob swallowed and pushed open the door, interrupting the scene. Claire sat on the floor with the boys, close to the empty hearth, playing spillikins. From the looks of it, Peter was winning. Sophie and Allison were playing with the dollhouse while Mary sat on the casement bench with a book on her lap, unread as she stared out the window. Lucy sat on a chair in the corner, mending torn socks and pants.
Peter and Michael looked up at Jacob, and their jaws dropped. Scrambling to their feet, they rushed over to him. “Great Scott,” Michael declared, “you look like a dandy.”
“Nice watch,” Peter commented, pulling out Jacob’s pocket watch. “Where did you get it, Mr. Knightly?”
Claire spoke before Jacob had a chance to respond. She had risen after the boys and stood straight, spillikins piled up around her ankles. “Make your bows, boys, and girls, your curtseys. This is the Earl of Rimmel.”
“Truly?” Peter asked.
Jacob cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“You aren’t a tutor?” Michael chimed in.
“Did Papa hire you to teach us about being gentlemen?” Peter questioned.
“Boys, your bows.” Claire’s voice was firm and uncompromising. With only a slight hesitation, Peter and Michael obeyed.
Jacob felt a tug on his coat. He looked down at Allison, the young girl gazing solemnly up at him. “I like your green coat. The buttons are shiny.”
Jacob smiled. “Thank you.” It was interesting experience, being complimented by a child.
“You honor us with your presence, my lord.” Jacob looked at Claire, standing so straight, her voice so distant. Her voice held a tone that he had never heard from her before. “It is unusual to have guests outside of the family in the nursery.” She gave him a slow curtsey, her eyes downcast as was proper.
Jacob swallowed. This was going to be difficult. “I was hoping we could speak. In private,” he clarified.