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The woman dared to defy him again? He slammed his chair back and strode from the room. This situation would not continue. His long legs ate up the distance through the house and out the back door to the garden. Cook jumped in surprise when he sailed past, not having seen him in the kitchen since he’d outgrown his short pants.
Off in the distance, Miss Chambers, Lady Charlotte and Lady Clare strolled along, hand in hand. They chatted, livelier than he’d seen them until now. Just the sight of her meandering along, without a care in the world, had his heart thumping. They stopped and examined one of his mother’s prized Winter Jasmine plants. Miss Chambers pointed excitedly as she spoke to the girls.
“Miss Chambers.” The voice that had caused grown men to shake in their boots reached the wanderers. All three turned. Their joyful expressions collapsed.
“Did I not tell you to await my summons in the drawing room?”
“How pleasant to see you in the gardens, Your Grace. Perhaps you would like to wish a good morning to your wards?”
Penrose jerked at the distinct reprimand in her voice. Good God, the woman had audacity. To think she’d taken him to task. He opened his mouth with a rejoinder, and glanced at the two girls clinging to Miss Chamber’s skirts. The younger one slipped her thumb in her mouth. Both looked up at him, eyes wide in terror.
This would not do. The woman caused him to upset the girls again. Drawing in a deep breath, he attempted to put a smile on his face. “Good morning, Lady Charlotte, Lady Clare.”
“Answer His Grace,” Miss Chambers urged.
They buried their faces deeper. Helplessly, he glanced at Miss Chambers, who regarded him with raised eyebrows. His blood pounded through his body, no doubt a precursor to the apoplexy she would soon cause him.
“Miss Chambers,” he began.
“Yes, Your Grace.” She smiled at him as if in possession of a great secret.
“Miss Jennings, the new governess will now be in charge of the young ladies’ daily routine. I demand, no, request, you to escort them to the nursery so they may make her acquaintance.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” She smirked and turned the girls toward the house.
What the devil did that mean? Was she obeying his command, or complimenting him on his wording? If he didn’t get Miss Chambers out of his house soon, he would be a candidate for Bedlam.
Penrose inhaled deeply to recover his control as he watched them return to the house. Miss Chamber’s hips swayed gracefully beneath her pelisse, causing a different type of roaring blood to race through him. The creamy skin of her elegant neck begged to be kissed and nibbled. Wisps of golden hair teased her shoulders, released from the not-so-neat topknot. Even if his body recognized a beautiful, sensual woman, his mind put an immediate stop to that nonsense. The sooner she packed her bags and left, the better for his frame of mind. He shook his leg to adjust his breeches and followed them.
The Dowager Duchess of Penrose greeted Merry as she started up the massive staircase with the girls. “Miss Chambers. When the young ladies are settled, may I have a word with you, please?”
Merry curtsied. “Of course, Your Grace.”
“Excellent. I will be in the morning room. You may ask any of the staff to direct you.”
What was that all about?
If she hadn’t witnessed the dowager’s pleased expression and mirth-filled eyes, she would expect another dressing down. Whatever Her Grace had to say, it didn’t appear to be of an unpleasant nature.
She and the girls chatted as they ascended the stairs and headed down the corridor. A patterned Brussels carpet underfoot silenced their journey. They passed through the main part of the house, and climbed another flight of stairs to where the nursery rooms were located. The girls grew quiet as they approached the end of the corridor.
Once more she had to almost drag them into the room to meet the new governess. Merry’s heart bled for her charges. Prior to the carriage accident that had taken their parents so abruptly, they’d both been happy, lively young girls. After the tragedy, Merry comforted them, sang them to sleep, and held them when they sobbed. They had just reached a point where their normal exuberance for life had returned when the summons from the duke arrived, and the girls were yet again thrown into chaos.
Now they would be forced to accept a new governess, who from the look of her, had all the softness and warmth of an iceberg. Miss Jennings stood erect, hands cupped together in front of her body as if she stood on a stage about to sing an aria. Her lips were pursed in disapproval, and her hair so tight it pulled her eyes back, giving her an oriental appearance.
The governess eyed the two girls, but her stare displayed a strong censure for Merry. Her dislike was palpable. Goodness, what had the duke told her that caused the woman to dislike her so upon sight?
“Miss Jennings?” Merry smiled, attempting to make this easier for her charges. Her stomach muscles clenched. Wrong. No longer her charges.
Miss Jennings inclined her head.
Merry decided not to extend her hand since the woman would probably view it as a breach of manners. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Indeed.”
The governess’s gaze scanned Merry from the top of her head to her shoes, tightening her lips all the while.
Merry felt her face flush. Who was this woman to judge her? Drawing herself up, Merry said, “May I introduce you to Lady Charlotte and Lady Clare.”
