Chapter Twenty-One
Jenny waited inthe schoolroom for word from His Grace. She tried to keep her mind on the story she’d asked William to read to them, but she found it difficult to concentrate. William did too. He kept fidgeting and losing his place. Finally, he put the book down. “I have read all these books! Jenny, can we go to the library and find another on horses?”
“I will go later. Your father ordered us to remain here.”
Barbara had become fretful and needed a nap, so she took the children back to the nursery where Mary was sorting clothes.
Jenny settled Barbara down and handed William another picture book. He pushed it away looking miserable. He had been through so much, she wanted to comfort him, and it wouldn’t take her but a quarter of an hour to find a book to please him.
“All right. I’ll go down to the library. But you must stay here, please. I shan’t be long.” She expected the duke to be away from the house, but she changed her dress and tidied herself before the mirror.
Satisfied with her appearance, although her face was far too pale, she left Mary in charge, instructed George not to allow William to leave the nursery, or anyone to enter except His Grace, then went downstairs.
Was the duke still out looking for the gunman? Was it his cousin? How dreadful for him. A shiver passed through her. Would he be in danger? A footman admitted her into the empty library. As the familiar smells of old tomes greeted her, she searched the shelves and removed two books she found on horses, one particular one was on Arab horses which William was sure to enjoy. Pleased with her find, she returned by way of the servants’ stairs, the books clasped to her chest. On the next floor, she found Von Bremen waiting.
“Ah, there you are, Miss Harrismith.”
She clutched the banister, suddenly afraid. “What do you want?” She tried to sound indifferent, but her nerves were too on edge.
He flicked her chin, and she stepped back shocked by the intimacy of such a gesture. “Still sticking that out at me,” he said. “We are going on a little journey.”
“I am going nowhere with you.” His odd expression scared her. She moved to pass him. “I am needed in the nursery!”
Suddenly, there was a gun in his hand. “Downstairs.” He waved the gun. “Go.”
“It was you?” Jenny stiffened with fear and stumbled down a step. How to escape him? She opened her mouth to scream.
A hand brutally covered her mouth. “I wouldn’t do that. I’ll shoot my way out of here. Be sensible, miss governess. Come with me quietly and no one will get hurt.” He gave her a shove.
She feared he meant it. They continued down the stairs. “It was you who tried to kill William?”
“I’ve nothing against the boy. It’s his father I hate. As a result of the meddling Vienna Congress my family lost much of their lands when the country borders were moved. I was willing to overlook it if he married Greta. But he was losing interest in her.” He prodded Jenny hard in the back with the gun. “Because he’d set eyes on you, Miss Harrismith.”
She dismissed it as the ramblings of a mad man, but it made her no less afraid of him. “But why hurt William?”
“If the duke lost his heir, he’d be keen to marry to replace him. And there was Greta who would comfort him and persuade him how much he needed her. A man in grief is easily manipulated. Greta’s beauty would do the rest. A visit to his bedchamber in the night, and before long, it would happen. You were a problem though. It was my intention to seduce you, but you only had eyes for him.”
“You must be mad.” She turned to face him. “The duke is my employer.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” He shoved her. “Keep moving!”
“What are you suggesting? I am merely the children’s governess.” They were almost to the kitchens. Perhaps there she could find someone to take a message to the duke. His gun prodded her in the back again.
“He hasn’t bedded you, yet,” he said conversationally. “I would know if he had. You are an innocent, Miss Harrismith. Your eyes look through me like glass.”
“What good am I to you? Let me go. I promise I’ll say nothing.” The kitchen noises reached them as he motioned her down.
“While I’ve got you, His Grace won’t set the hounds on me. If you’re good, I’ll let you live.”
Jenny’s breath shortened. A kitchen maid cut up vegetables while another was at the stove. They shrank back at the sight of Von Bremen’s gun. “Not a word,” he said to them. “Or I’ll come back and deal with you.”
He shoved Jenny out into the kitchen garden causing her to stumble. “My horse is over in those trees. Quickly!”
They made their way past the vegetable beds to the gate in the ivy-covered wall. He leaned around her and pulled it open. “Out.”
They were in the open. Would a gardener see them? But there was no one around. “The maids will raise the alarm,” she said.
“I trust they will.”
