The Game and the Governess by Kate Noble

Author:Kate Noble
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books

“YOU’RE WASTING YOUR time,” John Turner said from the base of the stairs. Ned was not pleased, nor surprised, that he had been there. Out of everyone in that drawing room, only Turner would have noticed or cared that he was gone.

“Hello there. My day was very interesting. I nearly got poisoned by a tart last night and spent today in the woods trying to wrangle rambunctious children. How was yours?” Ned began nonchalantly as he descended the stairs, hands in his pockets, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Less interesting than yours, I dare say,” Turner replied honestly. “You are wasting your time,” he repeated. “With the governess.”

“Am I? How?”

“She does not meet the standards laid out at the beginning of the wager.” Turner’s voice was a low rumble, but there was an edge to it.

“I believe the requirements boil down to someone gently reared, am I right?” On Turner’s slow nod, Ned shrugged with ill-contained relish. “Miss Baker was gently reared. So much so, in fact, she attended the exclusive Mrs. Beveridge’s School. Her circumstances may have changed, but that does not alter her background.”

Turner’s eyes narrowed. “But that doesn’t mean that—”

“Actually, I feel that Miss Baker is very much the type of woman that a secretary would court. Far more likely than, say, a fortune-hunting countess.”

Turner did not take that statement with his usual cynical silence. No, instead he closed the distance between them, leaning in to Ned’s face with a sneer.

“Don’t ever talk that way about Leticia,” he growled.

Ned blinked in shock. For Turner to talk to him that way, either he had fallen too well into the role of the earl, or . . . or the Countess Churzy had really gotten under his skin.

To snap Turner out of it, Ned hardened his gaze and voice. “You forget yourself. Remember who you truly are. And who I truly am. And then take two steps back.”

Turner pulled a long breath in, which he apparently needed to bring himself back from acting like an earl with the actual earl. He took the requested steps backward, but kept his eyes on Ned.

“My apologies,” he said stiffly. “I am aware of what she is, you know. Her clothes, though stylish, have been turned out from an earlier season. She pointedly does not talk about her marriage or her recent past. And you could not have been so delightful a child that all she wants out of a connection to the earl is enjoyable reminiscences.”

“I am glad you are aware. She is a barnacle. Prettiest barnacle I’ve ever seen, of course,” Ned replied, his eyebrow inching up at Turner’s mutinous look. Bloody hell, the man was about to forget himself three seconds after remembering. He had the attention span of a fish. “And there is no reason not to bask in her attentions. I simply request that you don’t do anything I cannot undo.”

Turner shot him a look. “She is the only person here who does not make me feel the weight of her expectations.

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