Elizabeth Beacon - Rebellious Rake, Innocent Governess

‘Or at the very least from a female I overtop by at least a foot and a half and must always make ridiculous, Miss Wells,’ he returned lightly enough, but suddenly she could see something more in those fascinating grey eyes. It was almost as if he could read her thoughts, she decided, resolving to stop them being on show to a shrewd man like Ben Shaw a little more determinedly in future.

‘As ludicrous as you must make a governess by such attentions,’ she told him steadily enough, as she looked coolly away and saw with relief that the quadrille was over at last and Kate was making her way towards them with her very correct young swain.

‘That appears to be a favourite word of yours tonight, Miss Wells, but I have no desire to make you so, whatever you may think. One day, my dear Miss Wells, I’ll have that dance with you and you’ll be forced to agree that we complement each other to the finest degree, or prove yourself a liar to both of us,’ he threatened as he rose to his feet and towered over her once more.

For a moment even she felt a little intimidated by his mighty presence, and Lord Shuttleworth looked as flustered as he might if a mountain suddenly uprooted itself and walked towards him. Profoundly annoyed with her unwanted companion for making all four of them conspicuous against her express wishes, Charlotte forced herself to breathe deeply and evenly as she also rose to greet the newcomers. For a moment there had seemed to be a promise in that complex gaze of his that she dare not read, but surely she was mistaken?

Gentlemen who towered over the general run of their kind with no effort or noticeable gratification didn’t flirt with plain and virtually penniless governesses, who had long ago given up on their last prayers. It simply didn’t happen, not to her and not to any other sensible female in her position who valued her peace of mind. Charlotte ordered her thudding heartbeat to resume some semblance of its usual smooth rhythm, and tried to ignore the disturbing fact that she felt so stupidly at home standing at Mr Shaw’s side. It took an assured gentleman to ignore her inches and, just for once, she felt like most women must as he towered over her. Fragile she most certainly was not, but she felt so for a reckless moment.

Reminding herself it was her declared aim in life to be the most quiet and mouse-like of duennas, despite her natural disadvantages, she forced her shoulders to slump and adjusted the eyeglasses on her nose so she could peer at the world as if quite lost without them. Fortunately for her that was another lie, but there was no sensible reason to waive an extra layer of camouflage in such dangerous company.

‘What a squeeze,’ Kate observed wearily as soon as she had got her breath back, and Charlotte hid a smile at the weary sophistication of the young lady standing in front of her.

Not six weeks ago Kate had begged to be excused her début, on the grounds that she could never learn to comport herself properly in the drawing rooms of the ton, even if she wanted to. As Charlotte eyed her flame-haired former pupil with wry amusement, she knew Kate had grown up at last and told herself to be glad. Even so, she couldn’t help but eye her former charge anxiously. Rich and aristocratic young women had a harder furrow to plough through life than most people thought, and Kate had more brains than were probably good for her. A sillier young miss might be content with a marriage of convenience and quietly bearing the future lords of England, but what would Kate make of the marriage mart and all the pitfalls it contained for a young lady of spirit?

The Honourable Miss Alstone was tall for a lady, although not on her own unfortunate scale, as well as being a beauty of rare distinction. In fact, her former pupil showed every sign of becoming the belle of the Season, and Charlotte silently predicted a procession of smitten hopefuls clogging up Lord Carnwood’s busy schedule when he returned from Ireland. Not that Charlotte had seen any sign of partiality when Kate’s deep blue gaze rested on any of her court. If anything, she thought Kate rather amused by their antics and thought them no more than boys. She was right of course, Charlotte decided, at least for the most part. Young Lord Shuttleworth was sincerely attached to her friend and a warning not to trample too heavily on his dreams might not go amiss when she found the right moment.

‘Would you care for refreshments, Miss Alstone?’ he asked earnestly now with a look of rapt worship.

‘Heavens, no, I feel as if I’m awash with lemonade already,’ Kate replied carelessly, ‘but Miss Wells has not indulged quite as often as I have, so perhaps she is thirsty?’

Lord Shuttleworth bowed politely and tried to look as if he could think of no greater honour than fetching orgeat for a dowd. He really had the most exquisite manners, Charlotte concluded and wondered if he’d truly thought about Kate’s suitability as the wife of such a serious young peer. No doubt Kate would lead him about by the nose if she ever succumbed to his serious air, ancient title and rumoured fortune.

Charlotte sincerely hoped her eldest protégée would wait for a gentleman who would challenge and stimulate her excellent mind, as well as doing the same for the more sensual side that almost certainly lay under her innocent impulsiveness and fiery temper. And when had Miss Charlotte Wells become an expert on love and marriage? She refused to answer that question, even in the privacy of her own mind, and obligingly declined Lord Shuttleworth’s polite offer of refreshment. Obviously feeling towered over by Mr Shaw and humiliatingly overtopped by Kate’s chaperon, that young gentleman bowed and took himself off.

‘Never mind, Miss Wells,’ Mr Shaw consoled outrageously, ‘I’m made of far sterner stuff and shall bring you a glass of champagne after I’ve done my duty and danced with this irritating little chit.’

Charlotte contented herself with raising her chin in the air and enjoying looking down her nose at a very disobliging gentleman for once.

‘How dare you call me so in public?’ Kate flamed back at him.

‘Because you’re an appalling brat, and likely to become completely intolerable if these silly young pups convince you you’re a cross between a goddess and an angel come down from heaven to dazzle them, which is very far from the truth, I’m pleased to say,’ he said with a grimace of distaste.

‘Oh, I pay no attention to them,’ Kate dismissed with an airy wave of her hand and Charlotte thought she was telling the truth, even if Mr Shaw doubted her from the frown pleating his unfairly dark brows together.

‘Have a care, princess,’ he cautioned, ‘they’re just whelps and quite unused to dealing with feisty little monkeys like you. You’ll break their silly hearts if you don’t watch out. I don’t want you branded a heartless flirt, for all you’re a confounded nuisance.’

‘No, for you’re as soft hearted as Kit’s favourite mastiff under all that “to the devil with you all” air of yours, aren’t you, Mr Shaw?’ Kate taunted softly.

‘Don’t forget how fearsomely Spartacus barks and growls at anyone he doesn’t like, minx, and have a care for my skin. I make far too large a target to be called out for thumping one of the young idiots when they try to force what they can’t get with your consent.’

‘I don’t see what business it is of yours,’ Kate responded rather sulkily. ‘Anyone would think you were my chaperon, not Miss Wells.’

This last was said with a reproachful glance at Charlotte, who was trying hard to look both innocent and sympathetic, while secretly agreeing with Mr Shaw for once.

‘I’d rather have half my teeth pulled,’ he responded amiably enough and Kate laughed, her temper forgotten as soon as it fired.

‘You really are the most disobliging gentleman I ever came across. I’ve half a mind to marry you and make both our lives a misery, just to serve you with your own sauce,’ she told him, her bluest of blue eyes sparkling with mischief and Charlotte thought not one gentleman in a thousand could fail to be charmed.

‘I’ll manage without any teeth at all to be spared that,’ he responded, giving Kate a straight look to discourage any more experiments in flirtation.

‘Don’t worry, the other half of my mind is the sensible one and couldn’t tolerate a domestic tyrant like you, Ben Shaw,’ Kate replied.

‘Good, you need a stern critic to keep you in line, miss, but it won’t be me. Now, if we don’t make haste they’ll start the dance without us and I’m conspicuous enough on the dance floor without insinuating us on to it after the music starts.’

‘It would give the faster ladies of your acquaintance more chance to admire your manly form,’ Kate teased relentlessly and Charlotte wondered at her courage, but all he did was shake his head sadly, as if despairing of her former charge.

‘Behave yourself, brat,’ he ordered not very seriously, and with one last, complex look at Charlotte that made her feel more confused than ever, he led his partner on to the dance floor.

Satisfied Kate was intending to behave herself, Charlotte could resume her anonymity and brood in peace. She should be profoundly grateful to be spared Ben Shaw’s infuriating company, she decided, but somehow she wasn’t and sat back on her uncomfortable sofa feeling out of sorts with herself and the rest of the world. Watching them dance so harmoniously caused her a pang she had a terrible suspicion might be jealousy. Heartburn, she assured herself prosaically, and considered the idea that Mr Shaw could be the man of sufficient character, humour and humanity to become Kate’s husband.

Some remnant of the silly romantic girl she’d once been rebelled at the notion of that match for the girl she’d come to love over the last two years. And while she was about it, that part of her seemed to hate the notion of Mr Shaw becoming permanently unavailable to plague and infuriate her. Reminding herself never to eat apricot fool again, she tried to divert herself with the company, but failed rather badly as her eyes were drawn to that well-matched pair gliding about the floor in such harmony.

Charlotte suspected she was not the only one speculating that their partnership might become more permanent in time. It would be a splendid match in material terms, she supposed. Kate was very well dowered and of ancient lineage and Ben Shaw was so fabulously wealthy his irregular birth was largely ignored, except in the most finicky circles where she doubted Kate had the least wish to shine. He could be charming as well as amiable when he chose to be, and apparently he could take his pick among the highflyers against some very aristocratic competition. She really shouldn’t know about that side of his life, she told herself sternly, and must stop pricking up her ears whenever his name was mentioned by the Alstones’ footmen and they thought she wasn’t listening. Then there was his avowed intention of never marrying anyone. Given that he would have to be so deeply in love with Kate as not to be able to stop himself offering for her, why did the very idea of a marriage between Ben Shaw and Kate seem an abomination?

Was it because he must be about three and thirty and Kate was just eighteen, perhaps? A significant gap, but hardly insurmountable. Nobody with the slightest intention of being fair-minded could accuse Ben Shaw of being anything but in his prime, and Kate had wit and a keen intelligence to add to her youthful glowing beauty. When she matured, she would be a rare creature indeed, and Charlotte thought her former pupil would become a real force for good if she wed the right man. So was the right man the infuriating giant dancing so lightly with the vibrant young creature who absorbed the attention of most young gentlemen in the room one way and another? No, the bone-deep certainty of that answer surprised her, and sent Miss Wells, governess, home with a very thoughtful frown on her shadowed face as all three sat silent in the Earl of Carnwood’s comfortable town coach later that night.