Jenkins assisted Isabella out of the coach, and she was grateful for his support. Her legs felt stiff from the long hours of confinement in the carriage, and as she paused a moment to stretch her tired limbs, she heard a deep voice call out.
“So you have finally arrived, Jenkins. We were expecting you last night. I was wondering where you had gotten to.”
Isabella did not have to turn around to identify the speaker. She recognized the earl’s voice instantly. With her back still to him, she listened alertly to the steady crunch of his booted feet on the gravel as he approached, silently willing herself to remain calm. When she gauged that the earl stood no more than a few feet from her, Isabella whirled around, hoping to gain the advantage by shocking him with her sudden appearance.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” Isabella exclaimed in a breathless voice.
“Miss Browning.” The earl’s voice was so calm and emotionless that for a moment she thought he must have been informed of her imminent arrival, but she did not think that was possible.
“Did you have a pleasant journey, Jenkins?” the earl inquired conversationally.
Isabella kept a rein on her emotions with an effort. She was relieved the earl had addressed his question to Jenkins, instead of to her, since Isabella doubted she could have equaled the earl’s casual tone. She was determined, however, to follow the earl’s lead and tried to act as nonchalantly as he did at finding her, uninvited and unannounced, at his doorstep.
“The roads were quite passable, my lord,” Jenkins responded to the earl’s inquiry. “Today’s sunshine is succeeding in drying up some of the larger puddles.”
While the earl and his valet exchanged pleasantries, Isabella openly studied him. The earl’s was a sizable, nearly overwhelming presence. Tall, broad of shoulder, and uncommonly handsome, he was a man who easily inflamed a woman’s senses.
Isabella abstractly noted that the pale, tight breeches covering the earl’s powerful thighs were stained with dirt and grass, and his well-worn riding boots were caked with mud. His dark blue jacket was open, and the white linen shirt he wore underneath was unbuttoned at the throat. She could see a sprinkling of dark, curly hair and a glimpse of tanned, muscular chest. It made her feel flushed. Damien St. Lawrence was a truly dashing figure, even in his soiled and half-buttoned clothes.
It would not have been possible to mistake him for a common laborer, even though he was sweating and filthy. The earl’s bearing was commanding, almost regal, and even a bit threatening.
Isabella suddenly felt his gaze upon her, and she lifted her head. She met his frosty silver eyes calmly, with a facade of confidence gained through years of practice.
“Is there somewhere private we may speak, my lord?” Isabella suggested, deciding to take the initiative, since the earl appeared to be content standing in the drive conversing with Jenkins until darkness fell.
“Of course, Miss Browning.”
Mutely, Isabella followed the earl through the heavy oak doors of Whatley Grange. The foyer they entered was enormous in size, with massive pillars and round arches of dark carved oak soaring thirty feet into the air. Isabella’s eyes were immediately drawn upward to the lavish mural that decorated the tops of the high walls and the ceiling. Mythical demons and animals, along with birds, lambs, and lions, were among the figures included in the elaborate design.
The enchanting paintings were unlike anything Isabella had ever seen, but the earl did not allow her time to admire her surroundings. Still wearing her traveling cloak and bonnet, she followed him across the massive hallway. He stopped at the end of a long corridor and opened the wooden door. Peering down expectantly at Isabella, he waited for her to proceed him into the room.
She scurried inside, deciding at once that this must be the earl’s private study. The room had a masculine feel to it, from the sturdy, heavy wooden furniture to the plush, dark-hued carpets and mahogany-paneled walls. A richly carved desk stacked high with piles of papers, correspondence, and ledgers stood in front of a wide bay window. Isabella was relieved with the earl’s choice of room. At least he understood that the reason for her unexpected appearance at his home was business and not social.
The earl politely indicated a seat, but Isabella shook her head. “I’ve been sitting in the carriage all day, my lord. If you have no objections, I prefer to stand.”
“As you wish, Miss Browning,” Damien responded, leaning against his desk and crossing his arms over his chest. He gave no outward sign of his emotions.
Instead, he looked carefully at Isabella. Her sculptured face showed signs of fatigue, but her brilliant violet eyes were sparkling. Damien’s body tightened instinctively in masculine appreciation of her beauty. Surprised and annoyed at the sudden appearance of his baser inclinations, the earl resolutely pushed those feelings aside. “Now that we are alone, perhaps you will be kind enough to explain why you are here?”
Taking a deep breath, Isabella plunged in. “I have come to Whatley Grange in search of a position, my lord. It is my understanding that you have two young children. I would like to offer my services as governess.”
The slight twitching in his jaw revealed his surprise.
“How do you know of my children?”
“Jenkins mentioned them to me,” Isabella responded carefully. “You have two children, a girl and a boy. Six and three years old, I believe. Jenkins also said they did not have a governess. I was hoping you might consider me for the post.”
“I am not looking for a governess, Miss Browning,” the earl declared flatly.
His answer was precisely what she had anticipated, had even come to hope for, and yet for some perverse reason it rankled her. Isabella knew she should calmly accept the earl’s rejection and be on her way, but she could not.
Apprehension flared momentarily in Isabella’s violet eyes before she spoke, but she skillfully hid her feelings of self-doubt. Quietly she listed her qualifications. “I have received an excellent education, my lord. I am fluent in both French and Italian. I have studied Greek, Latin, history, and geography in addition to the more traditional female pursuits of piano, voice, painting, drawing, and several forms of needlework. I also have a sound knowledge of basic arithmetic, English, and French literature and poetry.”
The earl scowled slightly, but Isabella valiantly continued. “Coupled with my extensive education is several years of practical experience. I have served as a governess in households with as few as three and as many as six children under my care.”
“I am sure your qualifications are impeccable, Miss Browning,” the earl replied, grudgingly impressed by Isabella’s accomplishments. “Nevertheless, the fact remains, I am not searching for a governess.”
“But you cannot deny that you need one. Surely you understand the importance of education. It is never to early for children to begin learning.”
