“Merivale.” The duke said heavily. “Did you compromise my sister?”
The words hungin the air for an awful moment. Then everyone talked at the same time.
“The devil! Of course I didn’t —”
“Henry!”
“Howawfulof you, Ash!” Arabella felt like bursting into tears.
“Then what, if you please, is the precise nature of your relationship to my sister?”
Philip set down his teacup so hard it must’ve cracked. He jumped up. “The precise nature of my relationship to your sister, YourGrace,” he hissed, “is that she has, in gross deception which she has maintained these past two months, pretended to be a governess in my household. She claimed to be a baron’s daughter who’d fallen upon hard times.” A deep red flush spread over his face and his eyes turned into bright hard chinks of emerald.
“A governess!” Her brother glared at him as if that were his fault. “Good God. And you didn’t immediately realise that she dished you up a bag of Banbury tales?”
“Of course, I realised it, Your Grace,” Philip bit out and turned an even darker shade of puce. “But I most certainly did not realise she was your sister. Contrary to what you may think, it’s not as though that particular identity is written on her forehead.”
Ashmore’s expression seemed to say he was entirely wrong and that the identity of an Ashmore was always evident.
Philip matched his glare with such open antagonism that Arabella feared the two were but a minute away from throwing themselves at each other.
“And what, exactly, did you think of doing with my sister in London?” The duke asked softly.
“We’re here because — dash it all, I don’t need to explain myself to you!” Philip finally exploded.
“Considering the lady in question is my sister, you certainly must explain yourself to me.” Ashmore had never been as pompous.
“Boys, don’t fight,” Lucy’s soothing tones intervened. “I’m sure Arabella has a valid explanation as to why she thought she needed some time on her own to be a governess. In fact, if you come and think about it, it makes perfect sense. Governessing is the only respectable job a woman can have, and I am certain Arabella did a fantastic job of it.”
“I am still here, you know.” Arabella’s head ached.
“I can assure you I’d never have hired your sister had I known she was your sister! I never wanted a blasted governess in the first place. We Merivales can do without governesses.”
The duke frowned. “Merivale. Merivale. The name sounds deucedly familiar. Are you —”
“I’m a blacksmith.” Philip jutted his chin out. “Have been and always will be. Inventor too.”
“Why does a blacksmith need a governess?” Ashmore lifted an eyebrow.
“Why? What’s it to you? Why aren’t blacksmith’s children allowed to have an education as much as a duke’s?” Philip sounded like he contradicted himself just to be able to contradict the duke.
“My dear fellow, that’s not the issue at hand. Whatever reasons my sister has for parading about as a governess —”
Arabella stood up, walked to the coffee table, picked up the vase with the carnations in it, and smashed it on the ground. “Will you all stop talking about me as though I’m a piece of furniture incapable of thinking and speaking?” she shouted.
For the first time in twenty-two years, Lady Arabella finally spoke up. It felt liberating.
She took advantage of the astonished silence. She turned to her brother. “Ash, you know I love you. But why can’t you understand you are stifling me with all this overprotectiveness? I can’t take a step without you hovering over me! I know I have a duty to our name and lineage, I know of it, as much as you. But why can’t you see I want to make my own decisions? Do something useful with my life. Yes, I went to Cornwall on a whim, answering an advertisement which his daughter placed, because I wanted to. I worked as a governess. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do this. It isn’t shameful. And you, Lucy,” she turned to her friend and took her hands, “stop fighting my battles for me. I know you mean well, but you’ve got to let me make my own mistakes.”
Lucy teared up and nodded.
“And you, Mr Merivale.” Arabella almost choked. “I apologise sincerely for having misled you so grossly, it wasn’t done with malicious intent. Never so.”
Philip nodded curtly and blinked fast. “Apology accepted.”
“Ash, they were wonderful to me. Nothing inappropriate ever happened.” Better not tell him about swimming in the lake in her petticoat. Or living unchaperoned with him under the roof. Or that kiss…She avoided Philip’s eyes. “The Merivales were always gracious, kind and — w–w–welcoming.” She finally burst into tears.
Ash stepped up and took her in his arms.
