“Zooks, you did not jump, did you, Hugh?” Aunt looked aghast. “Rats frequent those waters.”
His ward’s lips twitched. “And if you did, I hope the tide was in.”
“I did and it was.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Colder than a frog’s nose, that river, but as I dived forth, the diplomat’s bullet nicked my thigh. A mere…” He flapped his hand. “Flesh wound as fortune would have it.”
“But, Sir,” began a demure Miss Jones, “I thought your limp due to a bearded ruffian in Russia?”
Hugh narrowed his regard on her prim expression. “That was theotherleg, Miss Jones, but I’d not expect a reputable and vestal governess such as yourself to pay close heed to such matters. A gentleman’s lower regions and so forth.”
Amber eyes smouldered. “How can one not, Sir? When they are so blatantly thrust into one’s gaze.”
Aunt nodded andhmmed in that way of hers. “I warned you about those pantaloons, Hugh. Beyond the pale.” She rose,smoothed her skirts and walked to Miss Jones. “I like you, gal. Phoebe needs a governess with some verve. But I expect you to impart ladylike virtues in addition.”
“Indeed, my lady.”
“And tatting? How is your tatting?”
Hugh watched a shudder ripple through his governess. “Adequate.”
“I sincerely hope you are not fudging me.” Aunt sniffed. “I shall return to this house soon and you can show me your handiwork. Now, I will forgo more tea as I am due at theLadies of Mayfair Matchmaker Society, so, Phoebe, another kiss, if you will, and I’ll await you tomorrow at precisely eleven for your dance lesson. Hugh, escort me to the door and we will discuss at what hour you could meet your prospective brides. I shall also invite Miss Ponsonby-Piddlehinton. Dim as a snuffed candle but broad hips.”
A shudder caught him also. “I shall look forward to making her acquaintance, Aunt.”
Amelia scowledas she loitered at the schoolroom window watching Mr Cadwalader swagger down the garden path to the stables.
According to Sally, who’doverheardhis orders for a carriage, he was to attend Lady Thurwood’s literary salon tonight.
Amelia ought to search his quarters once more but…
Something had too much altered in his attitude towards her.
His questions were baited, his requests drawled and a dangerous glint lurked in his gaze whenever it rested upon her.
During their conversation in the mirrored chamber, she’d almost convinced herself that he knew she was no governess and that his scandalous conduct was to rattle her pretence…
Yet surely he would have shown her the door at once?
Or had he been toying with his governess?
Truly, she must not let herself be provoked.
She recalled his breath on her neck, his glistening chest and cool eyes. The thrill of battling wits. He was smart and wily and a man not to be underestimated.
A tut and mumble caused Amelia to turn from the window.
With a stray black curl dangling upon her cheek, Phoebe was rotating a hairpin within the lock of her rosewood jewellery box.
For the afternoon, they’d begun on Mary Wollstonecraft’s treatise from which Amelia was due an essay within the week, but she was aware that the lesson plans from Charlotte were becoming rather desperate. At least Phoebe was to visit Lady Kemble tomorrow for her weekly dance lesson and so Amelia had sent a message via the kitchen lad suggesting she and Charlotte meet.
“What are you doing, Phoebe?”
“I wanted to wear Mama’s cameo brooch tomorrow but I’ve lost my jewellery box key.” Phoebe twisted the pin this way and that. “I thought hairpins opened anything.”
Keeping her lips buttoned, Amelia commenced shuffling papers, for she really should not assist Phoebe in such endeavours.
But the girl huffed, and Amelia’s eyes drifted back to her as she held the box to the candlelight and stabbed in the pin as though skewering a hog.
Amelia winced and cleared her throat. “Perhaps…two hairpins might be more effective.”
