The Wicked Governess (Blackhaven Brides Book 6)(36)

Beside Caroline, Benedict drew in a breath that shuddered.

“Who is that man?” she asked urgently.

“Someone who must never, ever be anywhere near Rosa,” he said harshly. “Do you understand me?”

“Perfectly. May I know your reasons?”

“No.”

Stung by his sudden cold withdrawal, she inclined her head and stalked into the dining room.

“Wait.” He followed her to the doorway. “I’m sorry,” he said with apparent difficulty when she glanced back at him. “I will tell you, but not here.”

Diverted by one of the Winslow boys trying to hog an entire plate of pastries, Caroline dashed to restore order before anyone else could object. By the time she looked around again, Mr. Benedict had left the room.

Out in the long gallery, dancing was beginning and Caroline suggested the children form a set of their own for the country dances. Inevitably, she was drawn into it, if only to show Rosa and some of the others what to do. She led them to the very end of the gallery, so they didn’t get in the way of the adults but could still hear the music. A somewhat hilarious dance ensued, formed of an uneven number of boys and girls. Caroline found it great fun and even the adults in the set closest to them smiled at the children’s antics.

Breathless but laughing, Caroline emerged from their midst, only to be accosted by Mr. May.

“Miss Grey.” He bowed. “How kind you are to look after the children.”

“Not kindness, sir,” she assured him. “Party pleasure and part duty. I am a governess,”

“Not to all of them, surely!” He sounded so appalled that Caroline couldn’t help laughing.

“Of course not, but the young Braithwaite ladies are my former pupils, so I am happy to be of assistance.”

“Do your duties allow you to stand up with me for the next dance?”

Caroline had no idea what to say to that. Due to the informal nature of Lady Tamar’s party, there were no dance cards and dancing with anyone but the children had never entered her head. She opened her mouth to refuse on the grounds of being away from the children for too long.

But Lord Tamar, being dragged along the gallery by Helen at the time, murmured mischievously, “Of course you may dance. In fact, we insist.”

Lord Tamar was not her employer, but somehow, she could never bring herself to ask Mr. Benedict for permission to dance. In fact, she was making too much of it, for he would not care…

“Thank you, Mr. May, you are most kind,” she said civilly and received a beaming smile in return.

“Allow me to fetch you a glass of lemonade,” he begged.

While he was gone, Caroline went in search of Rosa. She found her in a quiet corner of the drawing room with Lady Alice. The two girls appeared to be drawing each other while Miss Winslow sang and played on the pianoforte. Exchanging smiles with Rosa, Caroline passed on, pleased for the girl, and quickly toured the other rooms to make sure none of the children were getting up to mischief. Helen was organizing their next dance set, to include both Lord and Lady Tamar.

By the time she returned to the gallery, Mr. May was there with her lemonade, looking disconsolately around for her. She took pity upon him and approached him.

During the dance, she caught fewer disapproving looks from the Blackhaven gentry than she expected to, although Mr. May’s mother scowled blackly enough for all of them. Caroline didn’t mind that. It was time he stood up to his mother.

Afterward, he was clearly lost as to his next move. She supposed he was used to dancing with debutantes whom he returned to their strict guardians afterward. An older, independent woman of such flexible social position as Caroline obviously flummoxed him. Caroline took pity on him and excused herself to check on Rosa and the other children—who’d enjoyed a rather more boisterous dance with Lord Tamar egging them on.

In the drawing room, Rosa had returned to sketching with Alice. A couple of the other children had joined them to admire and advise, but Rosa still looked fairly contented, possibly because her father sat on a sofa nearby. He appeared to be deep in conversation with an unusual and beautiful lady—Mrs. Gallini, the Italian singer Lady Tamar had secured to make her party the event of the winter. Caroline hated the spurt of pointless jealousy which clawed at her, but it seemed there was nothing she could do about it except ignore it. In time, this foolish obsession would pass.

As she was about to retreat, he stood with his companion, who with a gracious smile, walked over to the piano to be introduced by Lady Tamar for her final song of the evening.

“Miss Grey,” Benedict said formally, politely gesturing to the sofa.

Poised between flight and obedience, she remembered her place in time, and sat.

The singer was more than good. With passion and presence and the voice of an angel, she moved hearts. In spite of her feelings, Caroline could not help but listen in awe, although the song heightened rather than suppressed her powerful awareness of the man at her side.

After several moments, he murmured, “Are you happy with Rosa?”

“Very,” she managed. “But I think perhaps this is long enough. If you wish, I shall take her home and send the carriage back for you and Miss Benedict.”

“No, I think we should all go,” he replied, “but not just yet.”

“Of course not. After the performance.”