Althea’s face grew hot. She wished she could deny what happened, but Monique was too perceptive. “It was my own fault.”
“I doubt that is so,” she said. “I’ll make us some tea and you can tell me the whole of it.”
“I’d rather nobody knew. You said yourself how gossip could be.”
Monique took Althea’s hands in hers “I promise that whatever you say to me will never be repeated. On that, you have my word.”
Althea stared into the blue eyes searching, and in the end, decided to trust the dressmaker.
What did it matter anyway? If the servants knew, then Monique would within a day or two.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“LordMelcombe,mightIhave a word?”
Preston glanced up from the books he was reviewing with Jenkins to find Mrs. Wilson standing in the door. “Please excuse me, Jenkins.” He followed the housekeeper into the parlor. “Yes?”
The woman’s stern face and authoritative stance with her hands on hips took him back to his childhood and Preston instinctively believed himself in trouble.
“Is Miss Claywell coming back?”
“Of course she is. Whatever gave you the idea she wasn’t?”
The woman actually harrumphed. “Perhaps the fact you werehuggingher in your chamber and the next moment she was running from this house.” Mrs. Wilson glanced to the mahogany, long-case clock. “That was six hours ago. Lessons should have started four hours ago.”
He should have realized Winifred would tell a maid or at least her sisters about the hugging and wished he would have said something first. The gossip had been bad enough after the former governess left and the only person who had witnessed that incident had been Mrs. Wilson. A child telling what she saw would see Althea ruined.
Did she say six hours? Preston glanced out the window and panicked at what he saw. He couldn’t remember the last time they had experienced this much snow at one time. Any tracks in the snow made by Jenkins’ carriage when he arrived were long gone. The snow would soon be too deep to travel. He needed to get Althea back here before it was impossible for her to return or for him to retrieve her. No doubt she would hop the next coach to Scotland if he didn’t go after her. “It isn’t what you think, Mrs. Wilson.”
“What was it then?” Her eyebrows rose, daring him to tell her a lie.
“You know my intentions. Or what they were when she arrived.”
“If you’ve made a decision to keep her for any other reason than governess or wife, then I must firmly object.” She shook a finger at him. “There are impressionable girls living here, Lord Melcombe.”
“Do you think I’d make her my mistress?” he demanded.
“It’s what is being whispered below stairs, and the servants are once again wondering what truly happened between you and Miss Halton. I’ve told them to hold their tongues and I’ve kept your confidence, Lord Melcombe, but I will not allow Miss Claywell to be disparaged, unless she was the one who came to you, thus causing the damage to herself.”
He did not have time to explain, nor was he in the mood to be lectured by his housekeeper. “I promise to explain when we return. Right now, I am off to the village to retrieve Miss Claywell.” He glanced out the window again. Once there, he may not be able to return. “Don’t expect me tonight. It’s possible the snow may keep us in Willanton.”
She snorted. “They have a lovely inn there, I’ve been told.”
This time he was angry. “Again, you misunderstand, and I will explain if and when I feel it is necessary. However, if anyone is at fault, it is me, and I will not allow Miss Claywell to be disrespected in my home.” He turned on his heel and marched back to the library. “Jenkins, might I catch a ride into Willanton. I believe my governess is stranded.”
Jenkins gathered up his documents. “Didn’t she take a carriage?”
It was better not to explain. “There is a carriage, but I expected her back before now. I would like to ensure nothing has happened to her to prevent her from returning.”
“I don’t see how any of this is your fault,” Monique insisted after Althea was through telling her story. “He should never have left his chamber door open. Especially with five young girls and any number of female servants, you included, within the household.”
“I should not have stared.”
“He should not have asked you to come inside.”
“I should not have gone.”
Exasperated, Monique threw up her hands and marched to the stove in the small kitchen at the back of her dress shop and added more wood. It wasn’t so much a kitchen, but there was a stove that kept the room warm, and everything needed for making tea.
