Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

Rothwell dropped his drink to the table. “So you’ve become an opponent of the married state. I’m surprised Lady Farnsworth would allow it.”

“Arabella’s not around to meddle in my affairs right now.” Constantine swallowed a mouthful of his drink. “She’s gone to London. Farnsworth summoned her for his daughters coming out a few weeks ago now, denying her the chance to attend the wedding too, by the way. Callous bastard. The season could be a disaster socially for her, though. Bella’s let slip a thing or two of the niece’s nature that is not promising of an easy or scandal-free first season. Farnsworth will likely blame Bella for any lapse.”

Rothwell shuffled in his chair again, his expression changing to curiosity. “If you’d mar

ried the lady, she wouldn’t have to put up with Farnsworth carping like an old woman. Your daughters love her. Why haven’t you married her yet?”

“I’ve told you before that Bella and I are simply friends. She’s very fond of my daughters and likes to visit with them whenever she can. You know as well as I do that I am very fortunate to have her friendship. Before she left she was good enough to send me an excellent governess. As I’ve already mentioned, the improvement in my daughter’s tempers has been remarkable.”

Rothwell chewed on his lower lip. When he released it, his brow had creased in a frown. “Forgive me for being blunt, but why wouldn’t you want to marry Lady Farnsworth? She’s lovely and in possession of a fine mind.”

“Perhaps because she’s never encouraged me to consider more and even told me we would not suit. She was my wife’s friend. Perhaps she sees me as a brother.”

Rothwell shifted in his seat. “So when are you bound for London?”

“I’ve no firm plans as yet, but I must call on Arabella before the season starts.”

“Oh. For what purpose? I’ll likely see her first about Town. Can I pass along any message?”

Constantine still had to find out what Miss Clark had told Arabella before she left for London. The longer he wondered what it might be, the more he worried. Someone had to watch out for the woman. “Ah. That’s very decent of you, but no. It is a delicate matter that unfortunately requires a private word. Don’t trouble yourself about it. I’ll speak to her soon enough, I hope.”

A timid tap on the door sounded and Cunningham entered. “Sorry for the disturbance, my lord, but could I have a moment of your time? It’s rather urgent.”

Puzzled, Constantine excused himself and approached the door. Cunningham held it open for Constantine to step through and he raised a brow when he closed the door behind them. “It’s about the governess.”

The weight of disapproval on the word governess raised the hair on the back of Constantine’s neck. Despite having won over the sum total of his household and outdoors staff, Cunningham still held firm to his disapproval. For the life of him, Constantine could not work out why. Miss Clark had been exemplary in her attention to her duties. She spoke kindly to everyone and appeared rather fond of his daughters, even allowing them into her own bed to play on a particularly chilly day. “Oh.”

“Miss Clark has been precipitous and brought the children down to be presented to Lord Rothwell without waiting for a summons. They are waiting in the morning room, but I can send her away until you want them.”

Constantine grinned. “That’s an excellent idea. Send for them at once. Rothwell is not staying long and will want to see his goddaughters before he goes to London.”

Cunningham’s indignation deflated like a hot-air balloon. His face grew pinched. “As you wish.”

When he turned to go, Constantine called him back. “Cunningham, might I give you a word of advice? In matters that relate to my daughters, I’m prepared to give Miss Clark considerable leeway. She chose correctly to prepare my daughters to greet our visitor, and as you would well remember, my late wife would have done exactly the same.”

Cunningham appeared a little easier at last. “Of course, my lord.”

Constantine watched him go, wondering what it would take to have Cunningham’s disapproval vanish. There was no reason to fight every decision Miss Clark tried to make. Some of them were imminently practical. Augusta had always claimed that their daughters should not be shut away, that they should know their elders. Since Rothwell would be their guardian should anything happen to him, it was prudent and advisable that the girls were comfortable with him.

“The governess will bring the girls in a moment,” he told Rothwell as he rejoined him.

Rothwell grinned. “Couldn’t help but overhear that Cunningham does not care for the new governess. Is she pretty?”

Constantine shrugged, wondering how Cunningham was treating Miss Clark when he wasn’t looking and whether pretty was a strong enough word to describe Meredith Clark. “Everything will work out in the end, I’m sure.”

Cunningham tapped on the open door and his daughters filed past, heads high, appearance flawless. Miss Clark carried Poppy past the stiff-limbed butler and then lowered her onto her feet. At two, Poppy tottered toward Constantine. Miss Clark followed until he caught the little minx up into his arms. He smiled at Miss Clark. “I’d like you to remain, please.”

“Yes, my lord,” she agreed quickly.

Rothwell strolled to his side. “And who is this lovely creature?”

When he glanced around, Rothwell stared only at Miss Clark, his gaze bold and full of speculation. Constantine ground his teeth. “My governess.”

The my might have sounded a touch possessive, because Rothwell’s brows rose. Miss Clark was his, no matter that she did not share his bed now. He wouldn’t allow his friend to get ideas into his head, no matter how short the visit. Miss Clark was off-limits to all others. If he had to be celibate, then so did she.

“Miss Clark, my lord.” After a quick curtsy, Miss Clark retreated to a far chair, as far away from Rothwell’s roving eye as she could get.

Constantine breathed a sigh of relief. Rothwell had a large appetite for pretty women and was considered handsome. Constantine didn’t think he could stomach Miss Clark revealing a mutual attraction to Rothwell. The idea of it ruined his good mood.