The Wicked Governess by Mary Lancaster

Author:Mary Lancaster [Lancaster, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Regency, Historical, Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2018-04-18T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Blackhaven’s picturesque little church was packed for the Sunday service, Mr. Grant being a popular vicar, both with gentry and lesser mortals. Caroline barely managed to squeeze onto the end of one of the back pews. Behind her, several people, including the servants from Haven Hall, were standing.

When Caroline had been before, she had occupied the Braithwaite pew at the front of the church. But while her current position was less comfortable, it afforded her a better view of the congregation. Half way through the first hymn, as she gazed about her, she glimpsed the pale man who had run from the castle party at sight of Javan Benedict.

He sat across the aisle from her, as though he, too, had squashed himself in at the last minute. Under her scrutiny, he glanced around and met her gaze. Somewhat to her surprise, he inclined his head. She returned the gesture and hastily averted her gaze to the vicar. For the rest of the service, she made a point of never glancing in his direction again.

And yet, as she emerged from the church, feeling somewhat stronger than when she’d entered it, thanks to Mr. Grant’s uplifting sermon, she knew this man followed behind her. He was there when she paused to speak to Mr. Grant and to Mrs. Grant who was admiring a fisherman’s baby close-by.

In the street, Williams and the cart—already full of the hall servants—waited for her. Some distance from them, Serena and her sisters waved madly at her. To go to them, Caroline walked across the grass toward the side gate.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said politely behind her.

Caroline turned and faced the pale man, who bowed to her.

“Forgive me,” he said humbly. “I know we are not acquainted, but I understand you are Miss Grey, Rosa Benedict’s governess.”

“I am.”

“My name is Swayle. Marcus Swayle.” He seemed to expect the name to mean something to her. When she only gazed at him somewhat blankly, he said anxiously, “Please tell me…how is she?”

Caroline frowned. “How is who, sir?”

“Little Rosa.”

“She is very well,” Caroline replied.

Mr. Swayle smiled deprecatingly. “I can see you are wondering what business it is of mine, and legally speaking, the answer is none. However, you should know that I regard Rosa as a beloved daughter.”

“You do?” Javan’s warning about this man echoed through her mind. “Someone who must never, ever be anywhere near Rosa.

“This is hard,” Mr. Swayle said ruefully. “I can only imagine what that man has told you about me.”

“To the best of my recollection, he has never mentioned you at all.”

This seemed to take Mr., Swayle aback, though only for a moment. “I expect he is ashamed, for I know all. The cruel way he treated his wife and daughter.”

“Cruel?” she repeated, startled. Even when she’d first known him, his only sign of gentleness had been toward his daughter. “Sir, you are mistaken.”

She began to turn away, but he flung out one hand to detain her, only swiftly withdrawing it again with a hasty apology.

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