The Mysterious Governess (Daughters of Sin 3)

“Where have you come from and where did you leave your chaperone?” asked the young man, adding before she had time to answer, “But where are my manners? Introductions are in order.” His grin by the light of a nearby lamp post was enough to do what any amount of brandy might not have achieved. It warmed the cockles of Lissa’s heart. Shyly, she introduced herself.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Hazlett,” he said, caging her hand on his arm as he led her to the pavement. “And I am Mr. Ralph Tunley, parliamentary secretary and confidante to all manner of rakes and rogues but, sadly, in my own right, a poor, struggling hopeful with not a feather to fly with. Which is why I am unable to offer you a carriage ride home, since it is quite beyond my means. Shall I accost the driver of this passing hackney and send you back to your chaperone, or dispatch a note to your family immediately to let them know what has happened?”

Lissa shook her head as she glanced at her ball gown, nearly doubling up with dismay when she saw the damage inflicted upon it.

“I’m sure you have plenty more just as lovely,” he reassured her. “Not that a great beauty like you needs silk and diamonds to enhance what nature has so abundantly bestowed upon you. There, wasn’t that a pretty speech? I can practice such courtly sentiments without fear of censure since you will shortly be whisked out of my orbit and I will never see you again, though perhaps I shall hear news of your marriage to some great scion I could never hope to rival. Goodness, though, but I think that you are a beauty beneath the grime and blood.”

She saw he was grinning as he moved her a little closer to the illuminated glow cast by the nearby gas lamp. “You’re welcome to slap my face if you wish.”

Finally, Lissa was able to utter something coherent. “I shall forgive your impertinence, for you rescued me,” she sniffed. “And this gown is not mine. It belongs to the daughter of my employer.” She thought she might burst into tears as she contemplated the repercussions of the damage it had suffered. Several bows had been torn off the trimming at the hem when she’d been pulled from the wreckage, though in the dim light she could discern only a few dirt smudges. “She doesn’t even know it’s gone,” she admitted. “I’m just a governess, and the family I work for thinks I’m in bed, asleep.” She balled her fists, trying not to cry. “If they find out what I’ve done, I’ll lose my job.”

Mr. Tunley looked properly concerned for the first time, no doubt perceiving the enormity of losing one’s position when one had no financial backing. Then his mouth stretched wide into a warm smile.

“Just the governess? Why, isn’t this my lucky evening? I get to rescue the beautiful maiden and perhaps not lose her within a fortnight to some unworthy wastrel with more money and address than I have. Where do you live?” Then, when she told him, he added, “Allow me to escort you home, since we’re so close. I must satisfy myself that both you and the secret of your truancy remain safe, and I also will pledge that your gown gets the very best attention. The good woman I lodge with is a seamstress. She’ll know what to do.”

Lissa slanted a dubious look at him as they began walking, and he laughed. “You are the suspicious type, aren’t you? But of course, to be alone with any gentleman must be highly distressing. Don’t worry, no one will recognize you with such a dirty face.”

Lissa liked his easy-natured humor but she was wary, too. “Without wishing to be rude, Mr. Tunley, I haven’t met many people who don’t expect to be more than handsomely rewarded for doing one the slightest good turn. Might I just warn you that while I’m very grateful you’ve rescued me, I will also be saying a very firm goodbye when you deposit me at the garden gate.”

“You do speak your mind—and I like that in a young lady!” He raised his hands and took a quick sidestep, wearing an expression of mock alarm. “I assure you, Miss Hazlett, my first impulse is to help you. Though would it be such a terrible thing to further our acquaintance? Once you’re inside and have changed, you can toss down your poor ruined dress. I promise I shall return it to you by tomorrow evening in pristine condition. If anyone can work miracles with clothing, my landlady can.”

‘No!” Lissa gave an emphatic shake of her head. “I am permitted no followers, Mr. Tunley. Besides, I’ve only just met you and that gown is worth a pretty penny. I’m quite capable of managing to do what must be done in order to rescue it from total ruin.”

To her astonishment, she choked on the final word, stumbling against the low railing of the neighbor’s house as a great sob wracked her body. Good Lord, what was wrong with her? She was not one to succumb to displays of emotion, and she wasn’t even afraid.

Well, not really.

“I hope it wasn’t something I said.” Mr. Tunley looked alarmed. “I was just trying to offer a helpful solution.”

Lissa tried to draw in a breath but there seemed to be some blockage. “I know you were, and it’s not you,” she managed, realizing that the sobs that were suddenly choking her must be due to the kind of shock that afflicts one after a terrible event has befallen them. The same thing had happened unexpectedly when she’d fallen off a horse once. She’d thought she was fine at the time, only to succumb to the vapors half an hour later.

When she glanced up, she saw the happy smile had been wiped from the poor young man’s face. He was standing, uncertainly

, as if he didn’t know whether to take off, fearing she might be mad.

Lissa pulled herself together and managed to stammer, “Little wonder you look like you’d rather be running a mile in the opposite direction. First, you’re so good to me, helping me out of the carriage, seeing me safely home, and then offering to salvage my poor ruined dress so I don’t lose my job. And what do I do? Behave like a cry-baby.”

He gripped her hands and helped her to stand straight. “You mistake me. You’re suffering from shock but I don’t want to appear to take liberties. You have every reason to shed tears, Miss Hazlett. I’m surprised you didn’t before. You’ve been lucky to escape a horrible accident with just a scratch. You’re probably half frozen to death, and if I weren’t a gentleman who’s already given you my coat, I’d offer you the warmth you need right now.”

He looked suddenly abashed, as if he wished the pavement would swallow him. “Pardon me, that came out terribly wrong. I meant I wish I had a decent abode close by with a blazing fire where you could warm yourself but of course, even if I had, I couldn’t, for I really am a gentleman, and I’d never dream of sullying your reputation by getting closer than is seemly—well, except to rescue you from a crushed carriage, that is.”

Lissa continued to tremble, though she smiled at his little speech. “You have been very kind, and yes I am very cold, though I will have to give up your coat in a minute.”

“No, no, I insist, you must keep it.”

Lissa shook her head. “I shall throw it down from the window, then. With my dress. I’ve decided I do trust you, after all. And since we’ve gone this far, and I am so beyond the pale, I will allow you to very quickly put your arms around me so that I may warm you, for you are trembling from the cold and, shocking as it may be, I am not in my ordered mind, but it’s all I can offer as my thanks for taking me this far so safely.”

His irrepressible grin lit up his face as he wasted no time in stepping forward and, in a gentle yet quite firm embrace, he held her to him for a second.

A charge of such warmth seemed to fill Lissa’s veins that she gasped. He was not tall and broad-shouldered, yet he felt dependable, and he smelled of almonds and coffee overlaid with tar, perhaps some concoction he used on his thatch of brown hair.

It was the briefest of hugs, already he’d dropped his arms and stepped back, but his expression perhaps mirrored hers for he looked as if he too had been overcome by something quite unexpected.

Lissa blinked rapidly several times and then glanced up at the Lamonts’ townhouse. Feeling completely tongue-tied, she said the first words that came to mind. “I hope Master Cosmo ensured the kitchen door remained unbolted.” She cast a dubious look at the stairs that led from the pavement to the basement. Then in enquiry to the young man’s look, explained that her employer’s son had taken her to a ball in return for a painting he’d asked her to do for him.

“What an enterprising young lady you are. And an artist, to boot,” remarked Mr. Tunley, before insisting he do the “gentlemanly thing” which was to descend the stairs to try the door.

A moment later he returned to her side. “I must say, your Master Cosmo is very neglectful since he’s clearly given no thought to how you might get in once the servants had gone to bed. You can hardly knock, can you?”