Althea hoped that she wasn’t the cause for the delay and would be more attentive to the time in the future.
The girls rose from the seats and crossed the corridor and into the dining room. Lord Melcombe offered his arm, though it was not necessary. She was a governess, nothing more.
However, she didn’t decline as that would be rude and rested her hand on his sleeve, and instantly became aware of the strength of his arms as her palm tingled. Why was he the only gentleman who had ever had any effect on her person? Others had kissed her. Some had pulled her close as they brought their lips to hers, and Althea had felt nothing. Melcombe need only draw near, and her pulse increased.
There were seven place settings on the long dark table. One at the head of the table, where she assumed Melcombe would sit, then three places on either side. Delia had taken the seat directly to his right.
Beside Delia was Theodora, then Lila. On the opposite side, Matilda and Winifred took their seats, leaving the one directly to the left of Lord Melcombe open. Matilda should be seated there, not the governess. Yet, Lord Melcombe did not correct the girls, though Delia did motion for Matilda to move closer to their uncle. Matilda tilted her chin and looked away, ignoring the oldest.
Such was enough to remind her that Delia did not want her here.
“Are you settled in, Miss Claywell?” Lord Melcombe asked.
“Yes. Thank you. I hope to begin lessons tomorrow.”
He pulled back in surprise. “Tomorrow is the first of the year.”
In her travels, Althea had lost track of time. This was the last day of 1815. “Yes, well, perhaps we could put off lessons for a day or two.” Though she wasn’t certain what she’d do with herself in that time, except perhaps prepare for the lessons to come.
“I will assist you when it’s time to begin,” Delia offered.
“Delia’s been teaching us since our former governess ran off,” Theodora explained.
“That will be all Teddy,” Lord Melcombe ground out.
Ran off? Althea hadn’t asked why there wasn’t one, though perhaps she should have.
“She didn’t run off. She was let go by Mrs. Wilson,” Matilda explained with authority.
As much as Althea would like to know the reasoning for such a decision, she didn’t ask. “I would appreciate any assistance Miss Delia may offer.” She glanced across the table to the one who resented her presence.
“Of course,” Delia answered. “I’ve plans and a schedule to follow. As you’ve no experience in being a governess, I’m happy to instruct you on your duties.”
“Delia,” Lord Melcombe warned quietly, to which the girl dropped her chin in response.
Althea met Delia’s eyes. There was going to be a battle of wills, for which she was well prepared. “Thank you.”
Chapter Four
PrestonfearedthatDeliawould be difficult. She may have agreed to a month, but she’d likely challenge Miss Claywell at every turn, which was something he’d need to speak to her about. However, he also suspected that Miss Claywell was aware of Delia’s intentions and perhaps he shouldn’t interfere.
He was the only male in a household of six females, outside of the servants of course. Years on the Continent, fighting in battles and commanding men had not prepared him for this situation.
As his nieces, except for Delia, prattled on through dinner, Preston offered little and let them entertain Miss Claywell while he watched on. They had accepted her immediately and were excited to have her in the home. If he recalled, they tolerated the former governess because it was expected of them.
When he and Miss Claywell had waltzed in London, he hadn’t visualized her sitting beside him at supper, only in his bed. He liked having her here and being able to gaze upon her as she enjoyed conversation with the girls. As within the ballroom, the candlelight suited her, bathing her skin with a warm glow, as highlights shimmered across her nearly midnight hair. Her gentle laughter in contrast to Winifred’s giggling stirred something within his being that had not been anticipated, and frankly, Preston wasn’t certain what to make of the warmth in his chest. What he was certain of was that Miss Althea Claywell was the most desirable woman he’d ever encountered.
At the end of the meal, the girls rose to excuse themselves, as did Miss Claywell. Preston knew that if he let her leave with the girls, he’d continue to do so each night and thus, they’d never converse. He must force himself to do so now and had been preparing for this since he’d been left alone following his meeting with Mrs. Wilson.
“Please join me in the parlor, Miss Claywell,” Preston said before she could walk away.
Miss Claywell glanced up at him, a question in her eyes.
What reason could he give? “So, that we might better discuss your duties.” That was the reason he’d settled on today and hoped that he could offer better excuses in the future, and until it became easier.
“I’ll join you as well,” Delia announced.
Preston willed patience. “This is to be a conversation between myself and Miss Claywell, Delia. Go along with your sisters.”
