Her situation stirred his strong protective instincts, not to mention a qualm of guilt for perhaps having upset her with the suspicious tenor of his questions.
When she struggled to sit up, he protested. “You should not stir so soon or you may swoon again.”
Miss Ellerby refused to heed him. “I will rest a moment, but I assure you I feel a good deal better already.”
The quivering tightness of her voice belied that reassurance and so did her eyes. Behind the thick lenses of her spectacles, they blinked rapidly. Rupert thought he detected a film of unshed tears.
“Well you do not look it.” He picked up her coffee cup and pressed it into her hands. “Have you eaten yet today?”
As she raised the cup to her lips, she cast him a brief glance then looked away.
“I thought not,” Rupert muttered.
He rose to his feet then rang for a servant, who swiftly answered his summons. While he ordered a more substantial meal, Rupert kept a concerned eye upon Miss Ellerby.
“That was not necessary,” she said when the servant had departed.
Rupert returned to his seat. “I shall be the judge of that.”
“Truly, I am quite recovered,” Miss Ellerby insisted. “Please let us conclude this interview then I shall be on my way.”
The interview—preoccupied with his concern for her, he’d almost forgotten. “I refuse to let you stir from this room until you have eaten and I am satisfied you will not fall faint on the street. I must warn you, I have a well-deserved reputation for stubbornness, so it would be unwise to defy me.”
“Very well then.” The lady pushed up her spectacles, which had started to slide down her nose. “If you insist.”
After a moment of awkward silence, Rupert decided he might as well proceed with the interview while they waited for the food to arrive.
After what had just happened, he was loath to raise the matter of her employment history again for fear of upsetting her further. Besides, there was likely an innocent explanation. Putting aside his suspicion, he found one came to him readily.
“About your past positions...” He tried to keep his tone mild so as not to alarm her. “I did not mean to accuse you of anything untoward. It is just that I want the governess I engage to remain with us for a good many years, until all my children are grown. I do not believe too much change is good for them.”
“I agree, sir,” Miss Ellerby took another sip of her coffee. “There is nothing I would like better than to have a secure position.”
Hearing the edge of longing in her voice, Rupert sensed it had not been her choice to change positions so often. “It must be difficult when children outgrow the need for a governess and it becomes necessary to seek a new post.”
Miss Ellerby gave a slow nod that suggested weariness and discouragement.
So the explanation was as simple as that? Rupert chided himself for jumping to conclusions. Poor Miss Ellerby must have had the misfortune to teach a succession of older girls who only needed a governess for two or three years. No wonder she was so eager to find a more secure position. He could imagine few fates worse than being forced to move so often from place to place with nowhere to truly call home.
“In that case,” he announced. “I am satisfied. The position is yours if you want it.”
“Do you mean it, sir?” Behind her thick spectacles, Miss Ellerby blinked rapidly. “Just like that?”
Just like that, indeed. Rupert was not accustomed to making decisions in such haste, but guilt, pity and necessity had conspired to force his hand. He hoped he would not regret it.
Determined not to betray any sign of uncertainty, he gave a firm nod. “Of course I mean it. Why would you ask such a thing?”
Miss Ellerby gnawed on her lower lip. “I only wondered whether you wish to consult your wife before making your final decision.”
For quite some time now, Rupert had believed the worst of his grief was over. Life at Nethercross carried on as it had always done... except for Annabelle’s absence. But Miss Ellerby’s casual mention of his late wife, as if she must still be alive, made him fear he might never truly recover from his loss.
“I do not have a wife,” he snapped then realized how that might sound. “I did once, of course, but she died four years ago.”
Four years, five months and eleven days. It shocked Rupert to realize he still kept such a close count.
“I am so sorry!” Miss Ellerby seemed torn between shrinking from his gruff outburst and reaching toward him in sympathy. “You never mentioned... that is, your letter referred to us and we, so I assumed you meant...”
Rupert shook his head. “I was talking about my daughters and me.”
It was an understandable mistake, he admitted to himself, and his fault for being so reluctant to mention his widowed state. In those first terrible weeks and months after Annabelle’s death, he’d had a daft fancy that if he did not speak of his loss, it would not be final. Gradually that resistance had settled into a habit.
Even now, it made him uneasy to talk about his bereavement. That uneasiness compelled him to change the subject as quickly as possible. “So you see, the decision to hire you rests with me alone and I wish to offer you the position. If you are minded to accept, we can start for Nethercross at once.”
His gaze focused on Miss Ellerby as he awaited her answer. Surely she would accept. She had travelled all this way, after all, on the mere hope of getting the position. She had said herself how much she wanted it.
What could possibly be making her hesitate?
Grace stole a wary glance toward the baron as he awaited her answer. She could not possibly join his household under the circumstances... could she?
In her past positions, she had never received unwelcome advances from the head of the household. Her trouble had been with single gentlemen visiting the family. However, there had been the occasional look or word that made her grateful the master’s marriage vows kept her safe from anything more. With Lord Steadwell, she would have no such protection—only her caution and her disguise.
His lordship had already startled her with his touch when he’d picked her up and borne her off to the settee. When she’d first roused from her swoon to find him hovering over her, she had barely been able to stifle a scream. Yet she must admit his actions had been prompted by kindness and were not the least bit improper.
Lord Steadwell cleared his throat. “It occurs to me that if my aim is to find a governess who will stay, I ought to provide some incentive. I believe I mentioned in my letter a salary of twenty-five pounds per annum. I would be willing to offer a rise of one pound per year for each that you remain at Nethercross. Would that be satisfactory, Miss Ellerby?”