Hello, dear readers!
Thank you for following along with my story. I so appreciate your kind words. They mean the world to me! Your comments give me the encouragement to keep going.
Much love, Emmeline :)
*****
"If she pinches my cheek like last time, I'm going to kick her in the knee," Anna said, tossing her head. The young girl's long tresses had been painstakingly curled into long ringlets and gathered back from her face with a wide ribbon tied into a bow.
Nicholas shook his head. "Won't do any good. Too many skirts in the way."
"There will be absolutely no kicking or ill manners of any sort with your relatives," Eliza said sternly. "Both of you must be on your best behavior. If not, it could reflect badly on your father."
Though why she should care if anything made Rockdale look bad was a mystery. Eliza smoothed sweaty palms down the front of her skirt.
Nicholas slipped his hand into hers and smiled up at her shyly. "You look pretty, Miss Lockhart," he whispered.
"Thank you, dear," she said, beaming back at him. "You look especially handsome yourself, Lord Langley. And you, Lady Anna," she continued, turning toward the earl's daughter, "look very lovely, even with that snarly frown upon your face."
Anna fixed one narrowed eye on her governess then giggled when her brother attempted a snarly frown of his own.
If only she were outfitted as smartly as the children, she thought ruefully. Her only evening gown was out of fashion, and the once-bright cornflower blue silk had faded to a more washed-out hue. And despite lacing her stays as tightly as she could manage, the bodice fit more snugly than she would have preferred.
The last time she had worn this particular dress had been more than a year ago, and she had paired it then with her mother's lace shawl. But alas, she had no shawl of her own here that would suit the gown. She rather fervently hoped her bosom would stay in place within the low oval neckline that left her shoulders and a great deal of cleavage bare.
Eliza could just imagine reaching for her soup spoon, and a nipple popping out spontaneously from the confines of her neckline.
"That would certainly make for interesting dinner conversation," she said under her breath.
"These shoes hurt my toes," Nicholas grumbled.
"Stop whining," Nanny Goodson admonished, coming to join them at the top of the stairs. "Gentlemen never complain."
"They do if their toes are bleeding," the little boy muttered darkly.
Eliza squeezed his hand. "Chin up, now! Big smiles! Let's make your father proud, shall we?"
And get this over with, she added to herself.
Once downstairs and outside the drawing room where the others were gathered, Eliza took her own advice, lifting her chin and forcing a genial smile.
She urged the children ahead of her into the large room. Nicholas took a nervous step backward, pressing himself against her skirts, and her heart gave a compassionate lurch.
The rumbling of voices and feminine titters halted as Lady Pelham exclaimed, "Oh, look how these little angels have grown! Come to me at once, darlings!"
The children seemed frozen in place. Eliza steeled herself and spoke in a low voice. "Go on, now. Mind your manners."
Anna straightened her spine then stepped forward and dipped into a pretty curtsy. "Good evening, Papa, Auntie, and Cousin Caroline. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Pratt," she chorused sweetly.
A resigned Nicholas moved beside his sister and bowed. "Good evening, everyone."
Lady Pelham clapped her hands in delight. "Precious!"
Eliza's traitorous heart thudded when Rockdale left his lazy stance by Miss Pratt and came over to greet his children. His eyes slid over her, the heavy-lidded gaze almost palpable as a touch.
"Didn't I tell you they were adorable, Lydia?" Miss Stanley asked as she and her friend approached.
"Adorable," Miss Pratt agreed, smiling at the earl. "Lord Rockdale, you do have beautiful children."
Faced with their combined brilliance, Eliza couldn't help but imagine the well-dressed trio could have just stepped out of a London ballroom. Rockdale was even more strikingly handsome in evening attire, a perfect foil for his dark, brooding good looks.
Lydia Pratt obviously thought so as well, her eyes had barely skimmed over the children before returning to the earl. The young brunette looked sleekly sophisticated in a coral- and cream-stripped brocade evening gown with a dropped, pointed waistline that accentuated her slim curves. And the earl's cousin Caroline was no less lovely in an elegant creamy silk dress embroidered with small, pink roses and trimmed in exquisite blond lace.
"Do they sing?" Caroline inquired, tilting her head and looking the youngsters over, almost as if she was expecting them to perform tricks.
Eliza bit her lip when Nicholas cast a quick horrified glance back over his shoulder.
"Not tonight, Caro," Rockdale drawled, ruffling Nicholas' hair.
Lady Pelham settled back into a large armchair. "Nicholas, come over here and visit a moment with your Aunt Louisa so that I may see you up close. I declare you are the very image of my dearly-departed Papa!"
Nicholas hunched his shoulders and headed for his great-aunt with all the enthusiasm of a man headed for the gallows.
Miss Pratt tucked her hand inside the earl's elbow. "I'm told I have a pleasing singing voice, my lord. Would you care to hear me sing for you after dinner?"
"Perhaps," the earl said.
He bent forward suddenly, forcing Miss Pratt to release his arm. The lord swung Anna up into his arms, and the startled girl giggled in delight.
Lady Pelham sniffed in disapproval. "My goodness, Rockdale, you'll spoil these children with that coddling."
Rockdale lifted one brow, his eyes meeting Eliza's. She arched her own brow in remembrance of their earlier conversation.
His head bowed to whisper something in his daughter's ear. Anna smiled shyly and nodded. He carried her across the room to the pianoforte.
Eliza followed them slowly, watching as the earl gently lowered Anna down in front of the large instrument.
The young girl took a seat and looked uncertainly over at Eliza, who nodded in encouragement. After a quick deep breath, Anna began to play, stiffly at first then with more confidence as she relaxed.
Eliza smiled at the look of pleased surprise on the earl's face when Anna finished the sprightly tune and launched into a more complicated classical piece.
"Excellent," he murmured to Eliza. "Shall we hire a music tutor for her?"
"I would recommend so," Eliza answered and laughed softly. "She has already reached the limits of my own skills." She gave the earl a quick, measuring look. "I'm surprised you remembered what I said to you earlier about Lady Anna and the pianoforte."
He leaned a bit closer. "Seeing you in that dress you're barely wearing, I'm not sure I can remember my own name."
His words were barely audible, but a red-hot flush enveloped her, from embarrassment or thrill, she couldn't have said. The man's brazenness knew no bounds.
"Perhaps it's merely old age impairing your memory," she replied crisply.
Rockdale's snort turned into a small cough as Anna finished her impromptu performance. She stood and curtsied, face beaming with pleasure as everyone applauded, her father loudest of all.
Nanny Goodson stepped forward, and the children said their good nights to the guests. Eliza sighed after they exited, wishing she could join them.
"Good evening, Miss Lockhart."
She glanced over and smiled, seeing John Willoughby standing to her side. "Good evening, Mr. Willoughby."
He bowed with an appreciative glint in his eye. "May I escort you into the dining room?"
Briefly, she considered what Rockdale would say, and even without looking at him, she felt the weight of his gaze.
Her chin lifted. Her employer could not control her every decision. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Willoughby. That would be lovely."
She accepted his proffered arm and once again noted the younger man's obvious contrast to the earl. He looked almost out of place as she did against the glittering refinement of the others, Eliza mused with a little amusement. His dark woolen suit was not expensive in cut or cloth but suited his understated attractiveness and pleasant demeanor.
An unsmiling Lord Rockdale offered an arm to both his aunt and cousin, and they led the way into the adjoining dining room. Lydia Pratt trailed behind, a small frown marring her lovely features.
"So, tell me, Mr. Willoughby," Eliza said, slanting her gaze his way as they followed the others. "How is it I haven't met you before now?"
"I'm asking myself that same question, Miss Lockhart," he returned with a small smile that held a hint of flirtation. "But I've recently been working from his lordship's townhouse in London, finishing up some business for him there."
"I see," Eliza murmured. "Will you be working here at Verity Hall now?"
"Well, that depends on Lord Rockdale. I go where I am commanded," he said lightly, releasing her to be seated by a footman.
Once at the table, Eliza resolved to remain unnoticed in the background. Shouldn't be too difficult, she told herself, after all, she was only the governess. Thankfully, Mr. Willoughby was seated across from her, his quiet presence somehow reassuring.
Eliza stiffened, seeing the brawny footman named George enter the dining room. Her hand flexed in her lap. Every time she saw the man, it made her uneasy, remembering how he had so vulgarly spoken to her that horrible morning at breakfast.
There seemed to be a ghost of a smirk cross the footman's face when he caught sight of her. She stared back, refusing to give him a reaction. If given the chance, she'd enjoy stabbing the lout in the hand with a dinner fork, or perhaps his more sensitive parts if necessary.
At the head of the table, Rockdale spoke as required with his guests, his expression bored as Lady Pelham's cultured tones dominated the conversation. Glancing up, Eliza found him watching as she brought a spoonful of consommé to her lips. His gaze grew heated when his eyes dipped down to her bosom.
