The Nobleman's Governess Bride (The Glass Slipper Chronicles Book 1)

She wanted children and thanks to him she had them—three girls, each so different in her way yet all so dear. They were hers to teach and raise and love.

“There is one more thing I want.” She had not meant to speak of it but since she’d relaxed the guard on her tongue the words slipped out.

He had asked and tonight Grace could not deny him. “I want to be valued for the person I am inside, not just my outward appearance.”

Had she given herself away? The moment she spoke those words Grace feared he would recognize the sentiment Miss Ellerby had confessed to him. Did she want him to guess her identity, even if it risked the safe, satisfying life she had found at Nethercross?

Rupert hesitated to reply. Instead he tilted his head slightly, as if straining to catch an elusive whisper. When he turned toward her, Grace could not resist the impulse to face him.

“You cannot blame people for being attracted to such a lovely appearance.” He raised the hand that had so recently pressed against hers to graze her cheek with a stroke no heavier than the brush of a butterfly’s wing. “From what I can tell, you are every bit as beautiful inside as out.”

Her lips parted slightly to release a quivering sigh. Perhaps he could care for her in a way no other man had—merging his respect and sympathy for Miss Ellerby with his attraction to the masked lady.

“There is something I must tell you.” Grace wished she could see his eyes, to judge his reaction. But they were obscured by his mask in the moonlight.

“Speak then.” His fingers glided over her cheek again. “You have my complete attention.”

Grace gathered her breath and her courage.

Then suddenly the night sky erupted in a thunderous explosion of light and color. Grace recoiled as she might from a nearby musket shot—and with just cause. The fireworks aroused all her fears to a shrieking pitch that was impossible to ignore.

In a few moments Rupert would remove his mask to reveal his identity and he would expect her to do the same. Would he recognize her then? Or would the moonlight, the shadows and his refusal to think of his daughters’ governess in a romantic way all conspire to keep him blind? Grace could not bear that, for it would make a cruel mockery of his claim to admire her for more than her appearance. And it would destroy her belief that he was different from those other men who’d pursued her.

And what if he did realize that the object of his fancy was the same woman who had lived under his roof and raised his daughters for the past several months? Would the revelation delight him as she’d hoped, or would he react with shock and suspicion? As the fireworks splashed across the night sky in all their violent splendor, Grace pictured Lord Steadwell demanding answers and questioning her motives for coming here tonight.

Might he accuse her of spying on him? And if he did, could she truthfully deny it? Worse yet, he might suspect she had attended the ball with the deliberate intention of luring him away from the woman he’d planned to marry.

The raging colors overhead bathed his white mask in lurid shades of red and orange. Grace could picture his dark brows hunched over blazing eyes, his upper lip curled in scorn. She recalled such looks all too well from other men when she had denied them what they wanted from her. Their reactions had made her fear for her safety and her virtue, yet they were nothing compared to the damage this man could wreak upon her heart if he chose. Her feelings for Rupert Kendrick armed him with a powerful weapon—one perhaps capable of destroying her.

The sound of the fireworks drew many of the masquerade guests out to the garden. Before long a substantial crowd had gathered around the little bridge. While Rupert’s gaze was fixed upward at the spectacle unfolding above them, Grace seized her chance to protect her heart and the happiness she had found in her present position. She slipped between a pair of tall revelers then ducked behind the shrubbery. Once out of sight of Lord Steadwell, she plucked up the front of her skirts and fled the garden as fast as she could run.

Only when she was quite certain he could not easily track her down did Grace pause to wonder how she would get home. Nethercross was only a few miles away from Winterhill, but it was not a distance to walk in such an elaborate old gown and a pair of borrowed slippers that were beginning to pinch. But neither did she dare accept the offer of a drive from anyone except Rebecca and her husband.

Thinking of her friends gave Grace an idea, though she feared it might be in vain. On the unlikely chance that Lord and Lady Benedict were still at the party, she checked the spot where they had parked their carriage. If it was still there, she could take refuge inside until they were ready to leave.

To her surprise, the carriage stood exactly where they had left it. Not only that, their coachman lingered nearby rather than gathering with the others around a small fire some distance away.

“Miss, it’s you!” he cried when she appeared. “I was beginning to worry. Her ladyship felt unwell and they couldn’t find any sign of you so they borrowed another carriage to take them back to the inn. His lordship said you’d likely come back here sooner or later and I should fetch you home.”

“I looked for them too,” Grace announced in a breathless rush as he helped her into the carriage. “We must have missed one another in the crowd. I only wish I’d thought to check here sooner.”

But then she might have missed out on her innocent tryst with Rupert, Grace reflected as the driver climbed onto his perch and the carriage rolled away. Though she dared not risk her future on what had passed between them this evening, she would remember it always.



Bright fire soared across the sky, bursting into a shimmer of falling stars. At the same time, vivid emotions lit up Rupert’s heart with forgotten wonder.

It was the sort of night when nursery tales might come true with their promises of love at first sight and happily ever after. Of course he did not love the woman he had only met that evening and whose name he still did not know. But he had been in love before and knew his feelings already went deeper than a superficial attraction to her looks alone. How much stronger those feelings would grow as he came to know her better, he could only guess.

Breathtaking as the fireworks were, Rupert doubted they would hold a candle to his companion’s beauty once her face was unmasked. Then he would know for certain if they had a previous acquaintance.

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