Despite his best efforts to prevent it, Grace Ellerby’s face rose in his mind. Incidents from the past few months flitted through his memory, featuring his daughters’ governess in her true attractive appearance.
As he strode back to his chair and tried to carry on as if nothing had happened, Rupert caught his daughters exchanging furtive looks. Had they put their governess up to attending the masquerade to spy on him? Suddenly he realized why her pink Stuart-era gown had looked so familiar. How long had his children known about the secret beauty hiding in their nursery?
Besides the feeling of betrayal that his daughters had conspired to deceive him, it also made Rupert realize how desperately opposed they still must be to his marriage plans.
There. She had done it at last—the thing she should have done from the very beginning if only she’d known what kind of man her new employer would turn out to be.
As Grace watched the dining room door swing shut behind him, her conscience protested. It had not taken her long to discover that Rupert Kendrick was a trustworthy, honorable gentleman who would never have tried to prey upon her like so many other men she’d known. From that moment there had been no excuse to repay his decency with deception—except her lack of courage.
Rebecca would never have behaved as she had. Heaving a sigh of regret Grace turned and headed back to the nursery with slow, weary steps. Her friend would have confessed the truth at once and accepted the consequences with fortitude. Perhaps that was why Rebecca had been rewarded with security and happiness while she was about to be cast out from the safety and serenity of Nethercross—the first place that had felt like home to her in many years.
Clearly her stepmother and teachers had been right. Her fair looks were a superficial mask to hide a flawed character. She had been pulled far too easily into the sticky web of deceit. But now she was free. No longer would she have to devise new lies to cover up old ones. No longer would she have to be less than truthful with the man she admired and cared for.
Perhaps those blessings alone would be worth the punishment she must suffer for her transgressions.
She might as well begin packing, Grace decided when she reached the empty nursery. Lord Steadwell might be kind enough not to send her away this very night, but she could not deny the anger with which he’d reacted to her revelations. He would not want someone who had demonstrated such a lack of integrity to continue raising his beloved daughters. And she could not blame him.
If their places had been reversed, she would have done the same. However, she hoped she might find a drop of pity in her heart for the person who had acted out of fear and desperation rather than malice.
The time dragged by as Grace gathered her meager belongings and stowed them away in her trunk. Between inquisitions of her conscience, she wondered what was happening down in the dining room. Had Lord Steadwell proposed to Mrs. Cadmore in front of their children? If he must do it, Grace hoped he would wait until after his daughters had left at least. She feared that Sophie, in particular, would not be able to hide her dismay.
If the child burst into tears or referred to wicked stepmothers from her fairy tales, it might provoke her father’s anger and Mrs. Cadmore’s resentment. Any small chance of future happiness for their family would be poisoned. Would that be her fault too? Grace could not deny the possibility.
Perhaps if she hadn’t allowed old wounds from childhood to fester within her, she would not have encouraged Charlotte, Phoebe and Sophie in their resistance to their father’s remarriage. Then he and Mrs. Cadmore might have stood some hope of blending their families into a reasonably happy one. Though Grace still had her doubts, she could not deny her fault in making a bad situation worse.
At last she heard the approach of footsteps. Swallowing her bitter brew of fears and regrets she composed her features and went to meet the girls. Her first priority now must be to make the changes that were coming as easy as possible for them to bear.
They rushed in, all trying to squeeze through the door at once and all speaking at the same time.
“Girls, please!” Nursery discipline reasserted itself. “I cannot understand a word you’re saying. One at a time, then we must get you to bed. Sophie first, for she looks as if she’s about to explode.”
Charlotte and Phoebe did not look pleased with that, but they allowed their little sister to speak. “What did you say to Papa, Miss Ella? We heard you talking quite loudly outside the dining room. Anyway, it must have worked because he didn’t ask Mrs. Cadmore to marry him.”
That unexpected good news made Grace’s heart leap. If she had succeeded in keeping Lord Steadwell from making a terrible mistake her exile from Nethercross, no matter how painful, would not be in vain.
Now that Sophie had spoken, Phoebe seemed to feel it should be her turn next. “Why have you not got your cap and spectacles on, Miss Ella? Did you let Papa see you looking pretty? Did you think it might make him want to marry you instead of Mrs. Cadmore?”
“Nothing like that!” Grace cried. She could tell by the girls’ expressions that such a notion shocked them. They had no desire to trade one stepmother for another. She could not blame them for feeling that way. After all she had encouraged them to resist the prospect of having a stepmother regardless of whether it might be someone capable of loving their father and them.
“I wanted him to know he had spoken to me at the masquerade. Some of the things he said there made me certain it would be a mistake for him to wed Mrs. Cadmore. Besides, your Papa has treated me with kindness and respect ever since I arrived at Nethercross. I repaid him poorly, by not being truthful with him. I thought I had good reasons for keeping secrets but now I am not sure any excuse would be good enough. I only hope you girls will learn from my mistakes and not follow my example.”
“Is that why Papa was angry?” demanded Charlotte, her face suddenly pale. “When I first saw you looking pretty you said Papa would dismiss you if he found out.”
Before Grace could reply Phoebe spoke up. “Papa said we must tell you to come down to his study once we were in bed. Is he going to send you away, Miss Ella?”
“No!” Sophie cried, flinging her arms around Grace’s waist. “He mustn’t!”
Touched as she was by their dismay at the prospect of losing her, Grace was sorry to be responsible for causing them any unhappiness.
“Hush now.” Grace ran her hand over the child’s head in a reassuring caress and manufactured a smile for Sophie’s sisters. “Let’s not borrow trouble—it will only spoil your sleep. Your father told me he wanted an explanation for my actions—that must be why he wants to see me.”