Page 7 of Captivating the Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 5)

The few other social events they had invited her to, she’d demurred, stating chores needed to be done, correspondence to be caught up. They’d never questioned her, for which she was grateful, since she still feared being recognized in a large group.

However, they had very few, if any, overnight guests from London. Lord Hawkins had been a surprise. With the reputation he’d had when she was a debutante in London, he was the very last person she would have guessed to grace her employers with his presence. But then she was unaware of his relationship to the Wycliffs before his visit.

“My schedule is very similar to all governesses’, I am sure. I doubt you would find it of interest.”

“Not so. After all, I will one day have children of my own—at least that is what my mother reminds me of on a regular basis—and I will need to hire someone to tend to the urchins. Oh, sorry.” He flashed a grin at Lady Wycliff. “I meant the little darlings.”

Lady Wycliff laughed merrily. “Oh, my dear Hawk, I am sure whomever you take to wife will have every intention, and ability, to engage the perfect governess when the time comes.”

“I daresay, I have been waiting for the day you succumb to the vicar’s noose and begin to fill your nursery. ’Tis a well-known fact that rakes make the best husbands.” Lord Wycliff turned to Lizzie. “Don’t you agree, Miss Moore?”

Lizzie was shocked and nearly choked on her wine. Why would L

ord Wycliff assume Lizzie would know anything about rakes, London, and the lives they led? Was he testing her? Had Lord Hawkins’s attention to her made her employer suspicious?

Her heart thudding, she smiled warmly. “I assure you I have no knowledge on that subject, my lord.” She quickly returned her attention to her food.

Lizzie was relieved when Lord Wycliff changed the subject and asked about the latest news from London. Until he asked Lord Hawkins, “What happened with that Loverly situation? Hadn’t he absconded to America?”

All the blood drained from Lizzie’s head, leaving her lightheaded, fighting black dots in front of her eyes. She fought the desire to run from the table and hide in her bedchamber.

“Yes, the situation has been resolved. While still in His Majesty’s service, the new Duke of Bedford had been sent to America to find the man. Bedford returned with Loverly in hand to discover the prior Duke of Bedford had died, and he was now the new duke.”

“Yes. Yes. I believe I remember that part. But didn’t Loverly later escape his prison hold?”

“Indeed, he did. But Bedford, Lord Campbell, Mr. Templeton, and I surrounded him one night. Bedford had to kill him.”

“Well, that’s one treasonous devil gone to his reward.” Lord Wycliff took a sip of his wine and shook his head. “Good riddance, I say.”

Lizzie closed her eyes, her entire body trembling. She took deep breaths to fight off the encroaching darkness.

Father is dead.

Chapter Three

Miss Moore’s eyes snapped open when Hawk asked, “I say, Miss Moore, are you well? You’ve turned quite pale.”

It looked like the girl was suffering from some sort of a shock. She’d gone completely ashen, and her hand shook as she raised her wineglass to her lips. She took a sip of wine and shook her head. “No, I am fine. Thank you for asking.” The whispered words barely made it out of her mouth.

He continued to study her throughout the rest of the meal. She appeared distracted, jumpy. Sad, almost. He fought the urge to probe deeper but realized how out of place that would be. He found her fascinating, though she was an employee in his cousin’s home, and therefore, strictly off-limits.

What bothered him most was how he’d reacted with considerable skepticism and jocularity toward his close friend, Giles Templeton, when he’d claimed to have fallen in love with Miss Blake, now his wife, almost instantly. Hawk, Bedford, and Cam had spent a great deal of time poking fun at him.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have dismissed claims of love at first sight. Not that he felt anywhere near that for Miss Moore. He merely found her intriguing—nothing like he expected a governess to be.

That was all.

“Shall we retire to the drawing room? We shall have tea served there and then enjoy Miss Moore’s entertainment.” Leah rose, and Wycliff pulled out her chair. Hawk did the same for Miss Moore. He had not been mistaken. When she placed her hand on his arm, she was quivering, and when he covered her hand with his, it was ice cold. Something had upset the girl.

He tried to remember what they’d been discussing at the time, but it eluded him. Against his better judgment, he leaned in close to her, absorbing a whiff of something sweet and flowery. “Are you sure you are well, Miss Moore?”

“Yes, I am. Truly.” She smiled at him. “A cup of tea is just what I need.”

“Yes, perhaps. The answer to every Englishwoman’s disquiet.”

Hawk tried his best to ignore Miss Moore and concentrate on the story Leah was regaling them with, about one of the twins presenting her with some lovely little piece of artwork.

His mind drifted, hearing the love and pride in the mother’s voice. That was just what he needed, something to focus on other than his life, and what it had become.