“Aren’t you having a baby, Miss Bannister?” she whispered.
Swallowing, Claire forced herself to smile. She held out a hand. “Come, Miss Mary. We’ll have a talk in the nursery, just you and I.” Mary obeyed, crestfallen.
Claire was ready twenty minutes later when Lucy entered the nursery. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss Bannister. Lord and Lady Aldgate are askin’ to see ye in Lord Aldgate’s study.”
Taking a deep breath, Claire smoothed her skirts. “Thank you, Lucy.”
“Erm, Miss Bannister?”
“Yes, Lucy?”
“It helps ta move yer feet. It’s what makes ye walk.”
Claire managed a tremulous smile. “Of course, Lucy, thank you.”
Moments later, Claire could not even recollect walking to Lord Aldgate’s study. It seemed as though she had just woken from a stupor to find herself standing in front of her employer’s desk, his wife sitting on a nearby couch, staring stonily ahead. Claire absently noted that Lord Aldgate had not risen as she entered the room; Jacob always had.
“Ease yourself, Miss Bannister,” Lord Aldgate said, not smiling. “You are not facing an executioner.”
Claire did not answer, nor did she relax; she knew very well what she was facing.
“Right,” Lord Aldgate began. “Lady Aldgate has informed me of what occurred in the drawing room.”
“During a tea with the minister’s wife,” Lady Aldgate interrupted.
“She cannot be held responsible for your choice in guests, my dear,” her husband chastised the outburst. Clearing his throat he continued. “Forgive me for this intrusion, but it must be asked: are you with child?”
The directness of his question took her by surprise, even though she should have been expecting it. As she struggled for a way to respond, he waved his hand in dismissal. “Allow me to rephrase. Miss Bannister, is there any credence to my daughter’s allegations?”
Oh, how easy it would be to deny them, to dismiss Mary’s words as childish imaginations. Very little would happen to the girl; the entire incident would be erased from people’s minds, an inconsequential incident only to be remembered in whispers behind her back. Mary would heed the lesson well and only speak of appropriate matters. Claire would be able to remain at Aldgate Hall, continue teaching children of whom she was so fond, her reputation and future intact. The future of the Governess Club could thrive as well, their dreams still able to be realized.
But such behavior would be contrary to everything she had taught the children, everything she stood for. Mere days ago she had vehemently disparaged Jacob Knightly—his lordship, the Earl of Rimmel—for blatant falsehood; could she be so hypocritical? She was unaware if Mary had actually seen anything, but the possibility of her doing so was very real.
And if she denied the accusations and was later found to be with child? What would her employers think then? What would the children think of her; what would she think of herself? Mary had intended no harm but had acted as a young child desperate for her mother’s attention and out of an urgent desire to be a participant in the conversation. No, Claire could not in good conscience lay this burden at Mary’s feet.
Lord Aldgate was drumming his fingers on the blotter in front of him. Claire drew herself up and met his eyes, her gaze beseeching him to understand what she could not voice.
The drumming stopped; a noise of disgust escaped Lady Aldgate. “To think we had this—this—harlot around our children. I can only imagine what she has taught them.”
“Hold your tongue,” Lord Aldgate reprimanded his wife. “The condition of your presence during this conversation is that you are not to speak. You requested I deal with the situation; allow me to do so.”
Claire did not fool herself for one moment that Lord Aldgate would advocate on her behalf. She had committed a grave sin and must be held to the consequences. The fact that she had been responsible for children when her erroneous behavior occurred merely increased the gravity of her actions.
Lord Aldgate sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It is shame that I have to do this, given your four years of service here. You will receive the wages owed you plus a fortnight more and a letter of reference. You are to be gone by morning.”
“A letter of reference?” Lady Aldgate was indignant. “I will not—”
“You will provide a satisfactory reference,” he told his wife in an uncompromising tone. “She has given us four years of exemplary service. I concede that she cannot remain here, but I will not be a party to ruining her life entirely. The reference need not be glowing, but must be satisfactory to her obtaining a new position. If you refuse, I will write one on her behalf, but you will feel my displeasure, wife.”
Claire cast her eyes down and curtseyed. “Thank you for your generosity, my lord.” With his nod of dismissal, Claire turned and left the room to prepare to leave yet another home.
She knew that she could not fully lay the blame on Jacob for this turn of events, but heavens, it felt good to.
J
acob stood at the sound of the door opening, his breath coming out in an anxious rush. It had been over a fortnight since he had seen Claire, and he was eager to lay eyes on her again.
His excitement was replaced quickly with disappointment when he saw it was Lord Aldgate and not Claire. He masked his disappointment and nodded to the older man. “Aldgate.”
“Rimmel.” Lord Aldgate returned the nod and moved to the sideboard. He poured himself a drink without offering one to Jacob. “I must say I am unsure of the nature of your visit. Should I commend you for not skulking about this time?”
Jacob’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice even. “I am here to see Claire, Miss Bannister.”
“Indeed? To what purpose?” Lord Aldgate settled into the chair behind his desk and gestured for Jacob to resume his.
“I fail to see how it is any of your business.”
“You made it my business with your little escapade,” Lord Aldgate. Jacob wasn’t sure what infuriated him more, the man’s presumption or his calm tone. “You involved my family and my children’s governess; thus it is my business.”
“Allow me to relieve you of the burden,” Jacob said, his voice tight. “Bring Miss Bannister to the study.”
Lord Aldgate examined his drink before taking a drink. “I cannot do that.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I cannot bring Miss Bannister to the study,” Lord Aldgate repeated.
Jacob could feel a tic beginning in his cheek. “Yes, I heard you the first time. Care to explain why not?”
“I do not owe you any explanations, Rimmel, not after what you have done.”
Jacob drew himself up. “You do realize who I am?”
Lord Aldgate looked him in the eye. “You are the man who brought deceit into my house and exposed my daughters to lewd behavior. You snuck in like a thief and stole innocence from this house.”
Jacob was taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”
“It is quite annoying to hear you say that so often,” Aldgate commented. “Do you really mean it? Or is it yet another lie?”
“Are you trying to provoke me?” Jacob asked. “I highly doubt you will enjoy the results if you are.”
Aldgate sighed. “Rimmel, I do not have the time to sit here and trade threats with you; I do not even fully welcome you into my home. If you persist in your rashness, I will be obliged to act accordingly and,” he looked Jacob in the eye again, his tone serious, “do not let my age fool you. I am fully capable of protecting what is mine. I do not need the protection of a ducal title to clean up my messes. Besides, your stunt has given me enough to not only embarrass your family, but to destroy someone you have shown to care deeply for. I have only prevented it thus far out of gratitude to her service here. Short of killing me, you have little to threaten me with.”
Jacob ground his teeth together against the chill threatening to overtake his body. He had experience with embarrassing his family, but Claire? That was different. He would protect her at all costs. “All I wish is to see Claire.”
Aldgate sat back in his chair. “That is impossible. Miss Bannister is no longer here.”
“I beg—” Jacob stopped himself in time. “What happened? Where is she?”
“I do not know,” Aldgate admitted after a moment. “She was dismissed from her post for her involvement with you.”
“Her involvement with me? She told you?”
“Not quite. Apparently Mary had seen you two . . . being intimate and brought it up to my wife. During tea with the minister’s wife. I had no choice.”
“But why wouldn’t she wait for me or look for me?” Jacob was confused and couldn’t stop it from showing.
“Is there a reason why she would?”
“She agreed to be my wife.”
“Was that before or after your deception was revealed?”
Jacob hesitated for a moment. “Before.”
“And you think that hasn’t changed?”
“She did not say otherwise.”
Aldgate gave a satisfied chuckle. “I am pleased to know that you will be held accountable to some degree for your actions.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that you have much to learn about women, son.”
Jacob stared at the older man. “But she gave her word.”
“One piece of friendly advice,” Aldgate said, standing. Jacob automatically followed suit. Aldgate began to lead him to the door. “Women change their minds for the slightest of reasons, if any reason at all. How do you think a woman would react to being deceived in such a manner?”
“I need to find her,” Jacob said. “Where did she go?”
“I do not know, nor did I care enough to ask. The moment she was dismissed was the moment she ceased to be my concern. She was a good governess, but still just a governess. Now get out of my house.”
“If you would permit me one moment more of your time,” Jacob asked at the open door. His horse was still saddled, waiting for him.
“What is it?” Aldgate asked impatiently.
A moment later he was on the floor, blinking at the ceiling that refused to focus. Aldgate gingerly touched his jaw; he would have a bruise like none he had received since his days at Cambridge. That Rimmel could pack a wallop.
Jacob mounted his horse and swung away from Aldgate Hall, not looking back. He knew of only one place Claire would go. If she wasn’t there, well, he’d take care of that if it came up. All he could do now was pray that she was there and safe.
S
he couldn’t believe it. Claire sat on her trunk and stared. She simply couldn’t believe it.
Ridgestone stood where it had always been. Over five years had passed, and it appeared no one had lived in it at all. Neglect reeked from the grounds, the windows, the building itself. It looked not quite lifeless, but . . . dying.
Still, it was home. At least supposed to be home. Staring at it, Claire recognized the look of it, acknowledged the memories surrounded by it, but it did not resonate
home
as she had expected it would.
That could change. Would change. All she merely had to do was find a way to purchase it, write to the other members of the Governess Club, and with a little work, it would be home again. So what was stopping her? Wasn’t this the start of the life the Governess Club had been discussing all these months?
Of course, the notice of new owners on the front door could be a hindrance. New owners were not likely to sell so soon, if at all.
Claire continued to sit on her trunk, staring at her childhood home, unable to move. Unable to think.
A noise penetrated her fog. It started off quiet, but steadily grew, becoming more insistent. A horse. The rhythm of a slow canter was unmistakable. Blinking, Claire looked over her shoulder, stood, and turned to watch the horse and rider approach, her hands clasped in front of her.
She couldn’t see the rider’s face clearly, but she knew it was him. Knew it from the breadth of his shoulders, the length of his thighs, the hips that had been cradled between hers; her blood sang with recognition. The slight jump of her awareness both relieved and angered her; at least she could still feel.
Jacob reined in his horse and dismounted, watching Claire warily. She just stood there; was she even blinking? Or breathing? He couldn’t tell. Lord, but she was beautiful. Weary and drawn, but breathtaking. Her beauty used to be quantifiable, but now she just was, without limitation. He moved toward her cautiously, drinking in the sight of her.
He stopped several feet away. “Claire,” he greeted, inclining his head but not taking his eyes off of her.
She curtseyed in return. “My lord.”
Jacob smiled grimly at the reminder of their stations. “My sister-by-marriage recently gave birth to a son. I am no longer the Earl of Rimmel, just Mr. Knightly. I could claim a courtesy honorific but have chosen not to.”
Claire did not speak for a moment. “Would you prefer my congratulations or condolences?”
“I would prefer your affection, if I am to be honest.” He moved closer to her, but Claire stepped away. “I know you value honesty.”
Claire gave a bitter laugh. “You know me well, do you?”
“Enough to know where you would come. To know that you have been disappointed too many times in life to forgive me easily.”
“His Grace must be proud of your brother for gaining an heir.”
“Yes, he is.”
Claire couldn’t stop herself from asking. “And where does that leave you?”
A corner of Jacob’s mouth lifted in a roguish, yet hopeful smile. “Are you concerned for me?”
Claire sniffed. “Curious, at best. It would be nice to be ahead of the gossip columns for once.” She ignored the fluttering in her stomach.
He acknowledged the hit with a tilt of his head. “Indeed. There is no need for concern on my behalf anyway. I am rich enough in my own right, although I am unsure of a particular investment I have made; the rewards are yet to be known.”
Claire sat back down on her trunk and smoothed her skirts. “It fails to surprise me that you would make such a risky investment. Foolishness seems to be a trademark of yours.”
“Perhaps.” Jacob sat down beside her before she had a chance to object. “But I believe the rewards could be lifelong. I purchased an estate, you see, as a bridal gift.”