The Wicked Governess (Blackhaven Brides Book 6)(35)
Shaken to her core, she slid her hand free and made a point of asking if Miss Benedict would be warm enough with just her shawl, or if Caroline could fetch her a cloak for travelling. She could not look at her employer again until she had regained some composure.
It was only when the carriage halted at the castle and he handed her down that she finally found the courage to meet his gaze. At last, she took in his smart black coat and pantaloons, his simply-tied cravat snowy white against his swarthy skin, and his raven hair brushed back from his face. Her foolish heart turned over because he looked so handsome. Even with the disfiguring scar and the limp, there was something very gallant about him. Despite the rumors, there would be many ladies here desperate to make his acquaintance. The knowledge made her heart ache.
“Quite an impressive pile,” he remarked, scanning the castle as they walked together to the front door.
Lady Tamar’s party was a rout with the atmosphere of a family gathering. There was a quartet of musicians playing in the long gallery, where there would be dancing later. In the large drawing room, there was to be poetry and music from whichever of the guests felt so inclined. In the smaller, card tables had been set up. Toys and books were scattered in various places, along with bowls of sweetmeats, and children of all sizes ran around the adult guests with great excitement. Caroline expected to be kept busy.
As with most Blackhaven social events of this kind, the guests were a mixture of local gentry and visitors to the town, most of whom came either to drink the waters for their health or to accompany someone else who did. And since the party was Lady Serena’s, everyone invited had jumped eagerly at the opportunity.
Caroline noticed a few outraged glances by those who recognized her, though they appeared to be mollified whenever she was with children. Fortunately, Helen had decided to include Rosa in everything she did, so she was rarely alone unless she chose to be. The other children present seemed to regard her as a curiosity at first, but then accepted her naturally into their games. And Rosa herself, used to the Braithwaite girls, didn’t develop the blank, hunted look she’d worn the first time Lady Tamar visited.
What did surprise Caroline, was her anxiety for the adult Benedicts. She was afraid her employer would get bored and sneer, which was quite likely considering the many curious glances cast his way, many of them blatant to the point of rudeness. Or that his frailer sister would shrink into loneliness. Not that she expected Marjorie to start throwing cake at the castle guests, but Caroline felt almost motherly toward her. In fact, she glimpsed Mr. Benedict once in conversation with a few gentlemen and then again entering the card room. And Miss Benedict seemed to make friends early on with the deaf but amiable Miss Muir who was a conduit to the rest of native Blackhaven society.
Through it all, Caroline endeavored to keep the children entertained without them running too wild. Occasionally, Lady Tamar brought a young man to make her acquaintance. Two of them beat a hasty retreat when they learned she was a governess, the third, a Mr. May, showed a tendency to linger until his mother summoned him away.
“Who are these gentlemen you’re bringing to me?” she asked Serena under her breath as she conducted a small group of children to the dining room. “Are you actually match-making?”
“Oh no, I’d never presume,” Lady Tamar replied in shock. “They are simply gentlemen who asked me for an introduction. You do look stunning, you know.” She drifted on to greet the vicar and his wife who had just arrived, leaving Caroline gazing after her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.
“Have you lost Rosa?” enquired a familiar voice behind her. Mr. Benedict.
“She’s in the dining room,” Caroline said, dragging her gaze to her employer and lowering her voice. “She seems to coping and is quite happy.”
“And you?”
Her brows lifted in surprise. “I?”
“Are you happy? Or are you merely a drudge for lots of children instead of one?”
She smiled. “Oh no, I don’t feel like a drudge at all, I like children—most of them!—and everyone is being kind to me.” She inclined her head in response to the bow of the passing young man, Mr. May, who had been introduced to her earlier. He had been approaching the dining room door, though he now veered away toward the drawing room as though alarmed by Benedict’s presence.
“I would not call it kindness,” Mr. Benedict said wryly, watching this progress.
“Then what would you call it?” she challenged.
His gaze returned to hers. “Lust. Attraction, to give it a gentler name.”
She flushed under his highly improper words but refused to look away. It was he who did that, gazing instead toward Lady Tamar. Their hostess had been joined by her slightly erratic husband, and together, they were now welcoming another newcomer, a handsome but frail looking gentleman. Perhaps thirty years old and pale skinned, he carried a walking stick.
Caroline felt Benedict’s shock as though it were her own. His whole body went rigid and still. And the object of his attention, having smiled and moved beyond his hosts, glanced inevitably along the gallery. His gaze clashed with Benedict’s, and he stopped dead. He even wobbled a little, leaning on his cane for support. For an instant, fear stood out in the stranger’s eyes, in his whole, appalled face. Then it smoothed quite deliberately and the man turned and walked back the way he’d come. Leaning on his stick, he walked past Lord and Lady Tamar who were laughing with someone else, and headed for the stairs as though he were leaving.