“You’re not helping my nerves!” Ivy exclaimed, sliding off the bed to dress.
“Ivy, I’m only teasing. What if the duke realizes how well educated and skilled you are?”
Ivy shook her head. “You saw him in person. All it takes is a few minutes in his company to realize the sort of woman he wants need be educated in only one art.”
“Needlepoint?” Rue said, grinning.
“How did you guess? That’s why he’s waiting for his London mistress.”
“So he can point his needle at her?”
“You have it backwards. Now stop this nonsense, or I shall blurt out some inappropriate remark about needlepoint the next time I see him.”
She went to the washstand, and in the next minute, Lilac and Rosemary crowded into the room to dole out useless advice while she dressed. It seemed that Lilac had only fastened Ivy’s last button, giving it a good tug to secure it in case “the duke was tempted,” when the dragon’s knock resounded through the house.
“It’s time,” Ivy said. “Don’t kiss me. I’ll cry and look unstable in front of the children. I’ll visit on my days off. I love you all. Be good. Keep me in your prayers. I daresay I shall need them.”
As she descended the stairs, she had never felt so sorry for herself in her life. The ancient oaks that embraced the manor would surely bow their branches in sympathy when she embarked on her crusade to keep her home. And even if the trees stood oblivious to her plight, she had worked up enough self-pity to populate an entire forest.
A footman in black and red-braided livery confiscated her small trunk. Another assisted her into the waiting carriage.
And the duke took her hand to draw her down gently into her seat.
“I did not expect that you would collect me personally,” she said, which was all she could manage to say. She could not do more than stare at the man and hope that she would grow to take his breathtaking maleness for granted.
“I had business in the village.” Humor glinted in his eyes as he appraised her tightly buttoned dress.
“The children are anxious to meet you,” he added. “I warned them not to overwhelm you all at once.”
Overwhelm was the exact word for how he affected her. What had she gotten into? How could she live with him in his house when sitting with him in his carriage challenged her composure? She had not learned anything on how to deal with scoundrels in the years since they had first met.
He leaned forward, his dark eyes hypnotic. “I should apologize for kissing you on the floor the other day.”
“Yes, you should.”
“But I’m not going to.”
Ivy braced herself against the squabs. “Whyever not?”
“Because I’ve wondered about you for years. I convinced myself that another man had married you. Now that you’re a governess in my house, I’ll have to convince myself you are still unattainable.”
“I certainly hope to be.” She raised her chin and gave him a frank look. “Am I going to be safe in your house?”
“I think so.”
That was not exactly the reassurance she had sought. In fact, it wasn’t comforting at all. “What do you mean ‘you think so’? Either I shall be or not.”
“You won’t have to worry about losing the manor.”
Her eyes widened at this evasive tactic. “What does that mean?”
“Carstairs has taken care of paying the interest to your moneylender and the wages owed to your servants.”
She couldn’t believe this turn of events. Was the duke merely generous or putting her in his debt? She was too stunned to decide. “Thank you. However, if you expect me to give you certain liberties in return, then I shall have to refuse in advance.”
His dark eyes traveled over her in detailed appraisal. “It’s too late for that. Consider it a selfish decision on my part. As I explained, the children need order, and our family’s reputation will not be enhanced by another scandal. It’s bad enough what their mother did. Let me not be accused of employing a governess who lives in fear of her own shadow.”
Ivy looked down at her lap. She was unwillingly touched by what he’d done. He might have his faults, but he was generous.
In that moment she concluded that he wasn’t a bad man, after all.
In the next, she decided that he was an utterly depraved one whose sensual appetite canceled out whatever virtues he professed. Scoundrel. Rake. Rogue. Man with only one primal goal in mind.
He had continued speaking. “I expect my mistress to arrive at Ellsworth Park next week. She is not my mistress in physical fact yet, if you understand what I’m saying. We have not consummated our arrangement, although we’ve come—”