Dangerous Lord, Innocent Governess. Christine Merrill

master’s bedroom. The only place she could not search was the room of her beloved Clare. In her mind, it became the room she most wanted to see. For there would be no reason to lock it if there was not something to hide.

      She walked back down the hall to the nursery, frustrated by her defeat.

      When she returned to her desk, the tea things had arrived. The children were busy, red heads bowed over the tray, pouring her a cup. They looked up as she entered with such innocent smiles that she was immediately suspicious.

      So she smiled back at them, as guileless as they were, and said, ‘You are preparing my tea things. That is very kind of you.’ She took the cup they offered, watching the intent way they observed her, waiting for her to take the first drink.

      She sat down on the small settee in the corner, and paused, with the cup halfway to her mouth, noting the rapt expression on the faces of the older two children.

      ‘But it is hardly fair that I should be able to take tea, while you have nothing.’ She set the cup down upon the tray, and, without looking at the contents, offered it to Edmund. ‘You should drink before me, for you are the heir and I am but a servant.’

      The boy looked at the cup with alarm.

      She smiled. ‘Here. Take it.’ She held the cup out to him again.

      He picked it up, tentatively, and sipped.

      She held up a hand. ‘Just swish it about your mouth for a bit.’

      The boy made a terrible face, looking like he would gag rather than take another sip.

      She waited for a second. ‘Now spit it back into the cup, please.’

      He hurried to do as he was bade.

      ‘And smile.’

      The boy opened his mouth to show a face full of bright purple teeth.

      She smiled in satisfaction. ‘Just as I thought. You put ink into my tea, as a trick. And you never stopped to think what might be in the ink, or that it might hurt me.’