The Governess and Mr. Granville. Abby Gaines

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СКАЧАТЬ kind of man is he?” Marianne asked. She’d told Serena yesterday that she liked to know as much as possible about people before she met them, in the hope that minimizing the surprise would also minimize blushing.

      Dominic poured more sauce over his fish. “Very friendly.”

      He spoke as if that was a bad thing. Serena could imagine him pulling back from an excess of neighborly warmth.

      “He sounds the type to want to converse a lot,” Marianne said dubiously. She set down her knife and fork. “Serena, we might go into Melton Mowbray on Thursday to see what Mrs. Fletcher has on offer.”

      Mrs. Fletcher was a dressmaker, the best in the village.

      “Thank you, I’d love to,” Serena said. Her wardrobe wasn’t sufficient for her elevated status of companion, and certainly not for a dinner party. With her new allowance, she could easily afford a new dress. Perhaps even two. And if she took her gray silk with her, Mrs. Fletcher might suggest alterations that would bring it into the current fashion.

      Despite her concern for Marianne, Serena found herself looking forward to the upcoming dinner. As rector of Piper’s Mead, her father was invited, along with his family, to all the social events of the local gentry. Serena had always enjoyed the occasions.

      “Shall I tell you who else is on the guest list, Dom?” Marianne said, with a smile that was painfully forced. “One name will be of particular interest to you, I think.”

      Her arch tone suggested she was referring to a lady.

      Dominic’s glance flickered in Serena’s direction; she sensed his reluctance to open the subject in her presence.

      “Mrs. Gordon,” Marianne announced, before he could refuse. To Serena, she said, “Colonel Gordon was killed in the Peninsula three years ago. She’s a very capable lady, and her children have excellent manners.”

      “She has children of her own?” Serena asked, dismayed. It had never occurred to her that the new Mrs. Granville might bring her own offspring to the marriage. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

      “Your opinion is not required, Miss Somerton,” Dominic said. “Indeed, it is unwelcome.”

      Belatedly, Serena recalled her intention not to engage in discussion with him. But she could hardly ignore such thoughtlessness! Besides, as Marianne’s companion, she was no longer a servant to be instructed as to what she could and couldn’t talk about. She wouldn’t force her views on him as bluntly as she had when she’d thought she was leaving. But a less personal, more reasoned discussion should be perfectly acceptable.

      “It’s natural for a mother to favor her own children over someone else’s,” she observed. She addressed the remark to Marianne.

      “Serena may have a point, Dominic,” Marianne said. “I don’t think Mrs. Gordon would willfully do such a thing, but perhaps unintentionally... Maybe I shouldn’t invite her.”

      “Invite her,” he ordered. “She’s a very pleasant woman, and she already calls this district home. She will do very well.”

      Just like that, he’d decided this Mrs. Gordon was The One? Serena bristled. Convenience was one thing, expediency to the point of carelessness quite another. His eyes met hers, daring her to challenge him. She held his gaze for several long seconds. Then his focus shifted infinitesimally, lowered, and she was reminded of his touch on her chin. A quiver ran through her.

      Serena picked up her cutlery and turned her attention to her fish. For the next few minutes, the only sound was the clink of silver on china. Judging by her high color, Marianne was lost in fretful contemplation of the upcoming dinner party. Dominic doubtless thought he’d solved his marriage dilemma in one easy step; the measured pace of his eating radiated smugness.

      Serena reined in her impulse to argue further. She was the one who’d suggested Dominic should marry. To object to how he went about it was unreasonable...at this stage.

      * * *

      Dominic couldn’t sleep. A few days ago he’d thought he would never remarry. Now he’d not only decided to walk down the aisle again, but Marianne had identified a candidate who seemed exactly what he needed.

      Everything in him rebelled.

      He stared at the elaborate ceiling cornice above his bed, only just able to discern the acorn-and-leaf pattern in the light of the half-moon. Lord, there must be another way.

      He’d loved Emily from childhood, and at their wedding he’d promised to love her until death parted them. A promise all too easily kept. The truth was, he would love her forever. Was it fair to propose marriage to another woman, even one who accepted—perhaps welcomed—the convenient nature of the alliance?

      The alternative was worse. Even if it were possible to feel again the way he’d felt about Emily, why would he want to? The agony of losing his wife was no longer rapier-sharp, but he remembered it well. When Serena had talked of a second chance, all he’d been able to imagine was a second chance to suffer. A man would be insane to expose himself to that again.

      Which brought him back to a convenient marriage. Deep down, despite his prayer, Dominic knew there was no other way. Not if his daughters were to be successfully presented to society, if his sister was to be spared the agony of a chaperone role.

      He thumped his pillow into a more amenable shape and turned over.

      From a distance—upstairs?—he heard a cry. Then another. In the next moment, it became full-on wailing.

      One of the children. Likely a bad dream; Nurse would attend to it. Dominic pulled his pillow over his head.

      A minute later, the noise hadn’t abated.

      Dominic lay there another minute. Was it possible Nurse had gone suddenly deaf? Maybe Marianne would... No, she was a famously sound sleeper. Suppressing a curse, he pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, pulled on his breeches and shirt. And since he could hardly go wandering around the house in his shirtsleeves, a dressing gown on top.

      The noise was louder outside his room, deafening by the time he reached the nursery. He pushed open the door.

      “Nurse, what is this infernal—”

      He stopped. The woman standing at Louisa’s bed wasn’t the comforting figure of his sixty-year-old nurse. It was Serena—Miss Somerton.

      She scooped Louisa up into her arms, staggering a little as she straightened.

      His daughter’s cheeks were brilliant red, her eyes glassy.

      Dominic charged forward. “What’s wrong with her? Where’s Nurse?”

      “Her granddaughter was due to be delivered of a baby tonight.” Miss Somerton blushed at the intimate topic. “Marianne gave Nurse permission to attend her.”

      He touched the back of his hand to Louisa’s forehead. “She has a fever. Have you summoned a doctor?” He made for the bellpull.

      “The doctor can’t do anything.” Serena raised her voice so he could hear over his daughter’s cries. “It’s an ear infection.”

      “How СКАЧАТЬ