The Duke and The Governess Read online

  ‘Miss Jessica? Will you do me the honour?’ he asked and her eyes travelled up from his excessively shiny dancing slippers, past his elegant britches and his black velvet evening jacket, over his snowy cravat to the bluest eyes in the most handsome face she’d ever seen.

  ‘It would be my pleasure.’ She muttered demurely as a faint blush tinted her cheeks with a rosy hue. She gently placed her hand in his and was assisted to the dance floor.

  ‘Is that Warwick dancing with Jessie?’ Her mother asked softly and her father turned to smile happily. He nodded his head and they watched their youngest daughter steered through the steps of a Scottish Reel. She was positively glowing in her pure white debutante’s gown.

  Jessica was quiet. The Duke of Warwick looked down at the beautiful girl in his hands and debated whether to broach their past acquaintance. He cleared his throat softly. ‘I doubt that you remember me, but we have met before.’ He said carefully. His partner looked up suddenly and smiled softly as she shook her head.

  ‘I’m sorry to ask this, but what is your name?’ Jessica asked coyly. ‘I’m dancing with a complete stranger.’ He was astonished at this and was toying with telling her of their encounter in the warehouse when she was young, but decided to feign ignorance instead.

  ‘Is this your first ball?’ He asked in amazement.

  ‘It is, otherwise I would know who you are?’

  ‘I would have expected your sister’s to point out the most eligible beau’s.’ He muttered.

  ‘Oh! No, Sir!’ she said firmly and her smile widened. ‘No woman on the hunt for a husband would deign to tell an ingénue like me who is who. I might steal the prize!’

  He laughed heartily at her honesty. ‘That must be quite disconcerting!’

  ‘It is a little unsettling, because every man attending this ball is a stranger, except my father and two brothers.’

  ‘Do you know the rules?’ he asked with a peculiar light in his eyes. She didn’t know he was wondering what she would look like out of her chaste debutante’s gown.

  ‘Yes, Sir. My sister’s have made it abundantly clear never to be in a closed room alone with a gentleman and never let him take any liberties!’ She replied haughtily, making the Duke laugh even more.

  ‘Your sister’s sound very wise.’ He said and took a great deal of delight in her smile. She had a kind, open expression on her oval face and her blue eyes sparkled at the banter. Her complete innocence shone through her like a light and it made him feel sad that some man would take that innocence and either crush it under his boot or pervert it into something sordid and painful.

  ‘You still haven’t told me your name, Sir.’ She murmured. ‘Do you not wish to tell me? Is it a black name?’ He watched the light of humour dance in her eyes and vividly recalled the precocious ten year old that stuck her tongue out at him. ‘Are you a pirate or something?’ He looked down at her mouth as her tongue stole out to wet her lips and jerked his eyes back up to hers to see her eyebrows raised in query. His manhood jerked awake with a hot spike of lust, just like the last time he’d seen her tongue. He had to clear his throat.

  ‘I have a very old and honourable name. It is John Farrington, Miss Jessica and I have known your father for many years.’

  ‘Then I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Farrington.’ She smiled brightly and he almost moaned at the ache in his groin.

  When the dance was over, he escorted Jessica back to her sisters, bowed and took his leave. Damn me! It’ll be dangerous to dance with her a second time. He berated himself as he threw his first brandy of the night down his throat.

  ‘Who was that chit you were dancing with?’ Ariadne whispered in his ear like a spider. ‘I’ve a mind to claw her eyes out!’

  ‘Jealousy doesn’t become you, my dear.’ John said coldly and he turned a frigid stare on her. ‘Our dalliance is at an end, so whom ever I dance with is none of your concern, just as your dance partners are none of mine.’ He nodded curtly. ‘Excuse me.’ And he left her standing in the drinks room with her mouth open in shock. How long is it going to take for her to realise it’s over? He asked himself as he sauntered into the card room again. This time he played hazard and won. But still he fidgeted with the erection in his britches and he didn’t know he was going to dance with her again until he was stood over her with his hand out.

  ~*~*~*~

  Jessica had sat down with her sisters, but neither of them seemed interested in the man she’s been dancing with. She sat a stared at the floor and thought about John Farrington and how handsome he was. He danced well too. She thought. She accepted another two offers to dance, one was a cotillion and the other was an allemande.

  Within an hour he was back for another dance. This time it was a stately pavane. He and Jessica stepped around the dance floor like experts, neither of them realising just how they fitted together and she laughed with him as they conversed. At the end of the dance, he asked if she would like to get some air.

  As they stepped out of the door, he smiled and placed her hand on his arm. ‘How long have you been in London?’ He asked softly and steered her to the balustrade. Leaning his elbow on the stonework, he looked down on that exceptionally pretty face and wondered whether she would be able to fill his nursery, as his mother was demanding.

  ‘I’ve lived here all my life,’ she murmured and rested her hands on the stonework, ‘but the last week or more has been a constant round of dressmakers and shopping.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘I think my father will have a heart attack when he gets the bill from our expeditions!’ and then she snorted and said, ‘well, at least his pocket book will.’ She looked up and smiled. ‘I can hear it creaking already!’

  ‘For someone as beautiful as you, it is worth every penny to see you attired in the best the town has to offer.’ He touched a small ringlet of hair on her forehead gently, making it bounce.

  ‘You are very kind, Sir.’ She murmured and dipped her head coyly.

  ‘Sir!’ a rather loud and obnoxious female voice said from right behind her, making her jump. ‘You would call the Duke of Warwick, Sir! How dare you be so rude!?’ it finished as the decibels climbed.

  John Farrington closed his eyes, the smile vanishing from his face and he turned to the woman behind them. Jessica thought she looked pinched about the mouth, as if she’d chewed a wasp and her voice was a positive screech, like nails on a chalk board. Her expression was one of shock and dismay. She couldn’t have been much older than Jessica and she was wearing white, so she had to be a debutante as well.

  ‘Hello Verity, I see you’ve arrived just in time to be a nuisance.’ He said coldly.

  ‘Nuisance, be damned, Your Grace!’ Verity said. ‘Who’s your little friend?’ She looked down her very long nose at Jessica.

  ‘Lady Verity Farrington, this is Miss Jessica Gordon.’ He turned to Jessica and smiled softly. ‘Miss Gordon, this is my extremely obnoxious sister Verity Farrington.’ He saw the look of horror in her eyes as she looked up at him and her spine was rigid.

  ‘Miss?!’ Verity screeched. ‘You can’t be seen with a mere miss! We must leave at once.’ She grabbed John Farrington by the wrist and started to drag him across the terrace.

  ‘Verity you’re making a scene!’ he said and pulled his hand away. ‘Go back inside and I shall be back in a moment.’

  ‘I cannot possibly leave you out here with a mere miss! The scandal would be catastrophic!’

  ‘What scandal?’ John asked. ‘I’m just having a breath of air before the next dance and I asked Miss Gordon to accompany me.’

  ‘That is scandal enough!’ Verity practically wrung her hands together. ‘Johnny, think of our position, if you get muddled up with this miss, it could be a disaster.’ She turned to Jessica. ‘And you!’ she spat. ‘You can take your claws out of him. He’ll not get caught out by you!’

  John turned and looked at Jessica, just to see her reaction and was horrified to see the tears of shame tremble on her eyelids. ‘Miss Gordon
, please don’t let Verity upset you.’

  ‘It’s alright, Your Grace.’ Jessica said humbly. ‘I know my place, and you should have told me straight away.’ She bobbed a quick curtsey and ran for the doors to the ballroom.

  As he tried to stop her, his sister got in his way and held onto him. ‘John, let her go. You can’t possibly be serious about a miss?’ she said coldly. ‘Your a Duke and should marry a title.’

  John wrenched his arm away from her. ‘I’ll thank you to mind your own business, Verity. She’s the prettiest damn girl at this damned ball and a part of me wishes I’d gone to White’s with Robbie as he invited me to!’ He stormed back through the terrace doors into the ballroom, but of Jessica there was no sign.

  Jessica had immediately turned for the Ladies Retiring Room. As she pushed open the door she could hear two ladies talking. ‘I have no idea who she was, but it was embarrassing to watch the Duke make a fool of himself with a debutante!’ One said and the second agreed. ‘It’s not as if he needs to look for a wife among the innocents, Lady Asquith has been his bedmate for long enough!’ The first lady replied, ‘I’ve heard she’s already enceinte!’ and the second confirmed. ‘Maybe that’s why he’s dancing with a debutante; he’s just looking for an easy tumble while his lady love is indisposed!’

  Jessica stood there in horror at what she was hearing. How could they possibly say such things about her! In shock she turned from the room and wandered out into the main ballroom. Being a debutante and totally unescorted was a very dangerous thing and she became the target of more whispers and gossip before she’d even got back to her sisters. Abigail could see her coming slowly around the dance floor and rushed to her side.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she demanded. ‘The dance finished ages ago and Father has been waiting to escort us all into the supper!’

  ‘Sorry, I was just in the Ladies Retiring Room.’

  Abigail was immediately aware that something was wrong, because Jessie was so light hearted usually. ‘What’s happened?’

  Jessica looked up at her taller sibling. ‘Why didn’t you tell me I had been dancing with the Duke of Warwick?’ she accused.

  ‘Jess, I thought you knew who he was.’ Abigail said softly.

  ‘No, I didn’t. Other than father and the boys, I don’t know a single gentleman in this room!’ Abigail could see the tears hanging by a thread on Jessie’s lashes.

  ‘What happened?’ Abigail asked softly as she placed her arm around her little sister.

  Jessica explained about the dance and the walk on the terrace and the Duke’s obnoxious sister.

  ‘Lady Verity Farrington?’ Her mother said loudly as she overheard the last of the explanation. ‘What did she say about you my love?’ she demanded and six hundred years of nobility shone from her mother’s eyes. ‘Just leave it to me.’ She muttered as she patted her daughter on the arm.

  Jessica wished she was as tall and regal as her mother. Helen Gordon, as the only daughter of the Earl of Westmoreland, was a well established member of the ton and had more clout than Verity Farrington would ever hope to have. She was only an Honourable Lady, because she was the sister of the Duke, but her issue would have no titles, only John’s would. He had three titles, the Duke of Warwick, the Marquis of Stonleigh and the Earl of Charlecote. There were one or two baronies with the titles, but he hardly needed to use any of them.

  Helen Gordon strode across the supper room, as if she was on rails, to the Duke of Warwick’s party. The Duke himself was at the buffet table helping a footman fill plates for his obnoxious sister and his mother. Helen approached his mother Emily Farrington.

  ‘Mrs. Farrington, how are you this evening?’ she asked brightly. Lady Emily Farrington lurched to her feet in surprise as Lady Helen Gordon rarely spoke to new ton members.

  ‘Lady Helen, such an honour.’ Emily said kindly, graciously nodding her head. She extended her hand towards her companion. ‘This is my daughter Verity.’

  Lady Helen Gordon looked down from her impressive height and cut the girl directly by looking away from her without an acknowledgement. She smiled at Emily. ‘I’m sorry Emily, but I don’t talk to ignorant snobs like her. If she wishes to apologise for insulting my youngest daughter, she should find her at my family table, otherwise keep her out of my sight!’ She smiled in a friendly manner, turned from the table and strode back to her family. By the time she sat down, the story was racing around the room like a bushfire. The Duke was still at the buffet when it reached his ears and he stood and laughed loudly. He took the plates to his table and laughed again at his mother’s discomfort and his sister’s embarrassment. They waited until the footman had left before Emily spoke.

  ‘I don’t know how you can laugh!’ His mother spat viciously. ‘She insulted your sister!’

  ‘Good!’ the Duke said as he picked up his fork. ‘Verity deserved it for speaking without making sure of her facts.’ He looked at his sister coldly. ‘Didn’t you realise she was the youngest daughter of Lady Helen Gordon? Did it not cross that feeble, snobbish brain of yours that she was a necessary alliance in the social ladder?’

  ‘Why didn’t you say something?’ Verity muttered.

  ‘You didn’t even let me get a word in after I’d introduced her.’ He spluttered more laughter out. ‘A mere miss!’

  ‘Is that what you said?’ Emily asked in horror. Verity squirmed in her chair as the Duke laughed again and nodded his head. ‘Your stupid daughter has just committed social suicide!’ he said and roared again. He pointed with his fork at the people looking at them and as Verity looked about, women whispered behind their fans.

  The Duke finished his food in short order, swallowed a little wine and then excused himself. He strolled over to the Gordon’s table, coughed gently and smiled at Jessica. ‘Lady Helen.’ He turned to Wilbur Gordon. ‘Mr. Gordon. Please may I have a moment of Miss Jessica’s time? I promise not to keep her long from her supper.’

  ‘Of course, Your Grace.’ Helen said gracefully and nodded at Jessica. The Duke strode around the table and extended his hand and Jessica allowed him to pull her to her feet and move her away from her family.

  ‘I’m so very sorry about my sister.’ He began softly, still holding her fingers. ‘She has absolutely no social graces and has now firmly committed social suicide.’ He smiled delightedly. ‘I, for one, am delighted I won’t have to accompany them about like a mascot.’ His smile was charming. ‘I do hope you can forgive me for not stopping her tirade, but she has been an awful bully for most of my life and once she gets on her high horse, she is impossible.’

  ‘I forgive you, for your relatives, which I do appreciate you cannot help.’ Jessica said stonily. But all the joy was gone from her and he saw immediately the crushing effects of the ton at work.

  ‘Don’t let one stupid female spoil your first ball, Miss Gordon. My sister isn’t worth the heartache you are suffering.’

  ‘I’m not upset with your sister,’ Jessica said softly, ‘but I wonder why you would dance and flirt with me when your mistress is in her confinement?’ She looked up at his eyes and was surprised at what she saw. Horror and pain.

  ‘What?’ he demanded. ‘Who told you this fabrication?’

  ‘It was something I overheard in the Ladies Retiring Room. Two ladies were discussing how embarrassing it was to see you flirt with a debutant, especially as Lady Asquith was enceinte and indisposed.’ Again John Farrington looked into the face of innocence, even though his heart was pounding at the injustice of the comments and envied her the innocence of youth. Desperately he tried to rein in his temper, because he shouldn’t shout at Miss Gordon, she was innocently repeating something she’d overheard.

  ‘Are you sure you didn’t mishear?’ he asked and pulled her hand to his chest.

  ‘No, that is what they spoke about. You, Lady Asquith and her pregnancy. Unless there is another Duke here tonight that has danced with a debutante?’ Again he could see the innocence and the question in her eyes. He knew he
would have to justify this rumour now. He’d ignored it long enough.

  ‘I will apologise again, Miss Gordon. That particular rumour has been doing the rounds for a month and I should have scotched it at the very beginning. Lady Asquith is not my mistress, nor have I ever spent any time with her.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I met her when I first came to London to take up the title...’ he was abruptly slapped on the back by some gentlemen walking past.

  ‘Making a play, Your Grace?’ one of them said playfully. ‘Make sure her mama isn’t about!’

  Jessica yanked her hand out of his and stepped back, blushing profusely as the Duke turned to the rude youngbloods. ‘Are you being funny?’ he demanded harshly.

  ‘No need to get uppity, Your Grace.’ Another one said ‘We’re just having a little fun.’

  ‘Then have your fun at someone else’s expense.’ The Duke said firmly and turned away from them.

  ‘I think I should go and sit down.’ Jessica said uncomfortably. She dropped a perfect bob curtsey. ‘Thank you for the apology, Your Grace.’ And she went straight back to her seat leaving John looking after her yet again with his mouth open and a burgeoning erection in his britches.

  Jessica was so unsettled by her experiences that for the rest of the event she sat between her sisters, looking at the floor and didn’t accept another dance with anybody, although there were plenty of offers.

  The whispers were so bad at one point that she shut herself up in a closet, but fortunately Abigail saw her do it.

  ‘Where’s Jessica?’ her mother demanded.

  Abigail squirmed and then smiled sheepishly. ‘She’s shut herself in that closet.’ She said pointing at a housemaid’s storeroom.

  ‘Silly girl.’ Lady Helen muttered and walked across to the door, yanked it open and felt pity for her youngest daughter. ‘You can’t hide in here.’ She said firmly, grabbed Jessica by the hand and yanked her out of the cupboard. ‘You just help fuel the gossip if you hide.’ She explained as she carefully stroked her linen handkerchief over her daughter’s cheek to remove her tears. ‘You must hold your head up high and stare the old biddies out.’ She smiled softly. ‘You know you didn’t do anything wrong, and they’re not actually disparaging you, only the Duke. They feel he was out of order dancing with a debutante.’ She pulled Jessica into her arms and hugged her fiercely. ‘I’m very proud of you. It is not every girl that attracts the attention of a Duke at her first ball. Instead of crying, you should be preening and crowing over your sister’s.’