Alice over whether, as Miss Mirabelle was a French doll, Alice ought to learn some French words so she could talk to her. The young woman’s references were excellent and all from ladies Laura knew. She was quiet yet cheerful, bright-eyed, intelligent and decisive, and Alice took to her from the start.
‘Miss Pemberton.’
The woman looked up. ‘Excuse me, Alice.’ She came and took the chair next to Laura. ‘Lady Wykeham?’
‘I would like to offer you the position. Do you need time to consider the offer?’
‘No, I would be delighted to accept. Thank you very much, I greatly appreciate your confidence, Lady Wykeham.’
‘Excellent. So when would you be able to start?’
The door opened. ‘Lady Wykeham, what the blazes are you—?’ Avery stopped on the threshold apparently silenced by the sight of his usually elegant drawing room. The table was littered with dolls and their clothes, the Chinese carpet was obscured by a drift of drawing paper, the side table bore evidence to a hearty tea and Alice was bouncing with excitement.
‘Papa!’ She threw herself into his arms as Blackie and Miss Pemberton got to their feet.
‘Good afternoon, my lord,’ Laura said with a calm she was far from feeling. ‘Alice, please stop squealing, I wish to introduce Miss Pemberton to Papa. My dear, this is Miss Pemberton, who is to be Alice’s new governess. Miss Pemberton, my husband, the Earl of Wykeham.’
‘Delighted, Miss Pemberton.’ He offered his hand, she took it with a calm, well-bred manner that made Laura want to cheer. Apparently cursing earls disturbed Miss Pemberton’s composure no more than noisy six-year-olds did.
Avery was wearing his best diplomatic blank face, but she could not worry about that now, nor the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, nor the sharp pang of desire at the sight of him, windblown despite his immaculate riding gear, eyes sparking with tightly controlled temper.
‘Do allow me to show you out, Miss Pemberton.’ Laura stood and ushered the governess towards the door. ‘If you would like to come with your trunks in two days’ time?’
‘Thank you, Lady Wykeham. My lord.’ She dropped the slightest of curtsies. ‘Goodbye for now, Alice. Miss Blackstock.’
Laura said goodbye in the hall and left Miss Pemberton to the butler to show out. When she went back into the drawing room Avery was hunkered down, talking to Alice. ‘No, I have not brought you a puppy. Are you not glad just to have Papa home?’
‘Of course.’ She looked up winsomely from under her lashes. ‘But I’d have been even gladderer if you’d brought a puppy with you.’
‘You are a minx, young Alice. Don’t try those tricks on me, I’ve had older ladies than you flutter their eyelashes at me and none of them has received a puppy as a result, let me tell you. Now off you go with Blackie, I must talk to Mama.’
He waited, smiling and apparently relaxed until the door had closed and the sound of Alice’s excited chatter had faded. When he turned the smile had vanished. ‘What the devil is going on, Laura? What are you doing gadding off to London without so much as a by your leave?’
‘I have come to our house with my maid, our daughter and her nurse, using our carriage and leaving our staff fully informed of our whereabouts. I have engaged a suitable governess for our daughter as we have discussed in the past. I am not certain which part of that programme counts as gadding, but I am certain you will enlighten me.’ Her knees were knocking and the ginger snaps she had eaten with her tea were lying heavy in her stomach, but at least she managed to sound both composed and polite.
‘You did not consult me.’
‘Neither did you, when you took off for a week with only the courtesy of a scribbled note.’
‘Damn it, Laura, I was taking myself off while you were...indisposed. Mab told me.’
She raised her eyebrows at his language, but did not protest at it. ‘I see. So having discovered that you were unlikely to get any sex for a few days you could think of nothing else to keep you at home.’
‘There is no need to be so crude about it,’ Avery snapped.
‘Forgive me.’ Laura got to her feet in a swirl of sea-green muslin. ‘I was pleased to note that Miss Pemberton is able to withstand your violent language without flinching. She will obviously need to.’
‘And to the devil with Miss Pemberton!’
‘Miss Pemberton is not going to the devil, she is coming here. Alice, Miss Blackstock and I all agree she will be an excellent governess.’ She pulled the bell cord. ‘I would like some more tea. Will you join me and tell me about your business and I will tell you about Miss Pemberton and how Miss Blackstock and I decided upon her?’
‘And Alice?’ He sat, crossed one booted leg over the other and regarded her steadily. All the anger was under control. She wondered if she would ever penetrate that composure more than a fraction.
‘Alice was very helpful in sorting out the final five candidates, you may be sure.’ The door opened to reveal the footman. ‘More tea, please, and another cup for Lord Wykeham.’ How very wifely I sound. How very hollow I feel.
* * *
Miss Pemberton and her trunks arrived two days later. With Blackie’s help she turned part of the nursery into a schoolroom and then Blackie went on a long-overdue holiday to her family in Somerset. She and Laura had discussed it at some length and concluded that not only did the nurse need the rest, but it would be best for Alice who would not be able to play Miss Pemberton off against Blackie, who warned Laura that she was quite bright enough to do so.
Laura saw no reason to inform Avery of Blackie’s holiday. It was, she concluded, well within her remit as mistress of the household and he did not seem to notice her absence which was far less noticeable in town than in the country house.
The household settled down to a few more weeks in London as Alice adjusted to a new routine. It was best to remain there, Laura was certain. Alice was less familiar with the town house, the opportunities for distraction were fewer and it gave Miss Pemberton time to exert her gentle but firm authority.
Whatever else she was doing Laura made certain she was at home for nursery tea and games and Avery, even if he could not be at home then, made a point of being there for a bedtime story.
He was perfectly amiable, drove Laura about, took her to the theatre, walked in the parks, hosted a small informal dinner party. He took an intelligent interest in Alice’s lesson plan and approved the light touch with much play amidst the learning.
What her husband was not, Laura thought resentfully on the fifth evening after he came to London, was in her bed. She dragged the brush through her hair, counting under her breath, but it was not enough to distract her from the fact that he had not come to her room once. It was, she supposed, retaliation for her blunt accusation about why he had left Westerwood so abruptly.
She dropped the brush onto the dressing table, tossed her hair back over her shoulders and snuffed all but the bedside candles. A new novel sat on the pillow where her husband’s head should be lying. She frowned at it and then felt a sudden resolve that however sensational it might prove to be, it was not how she was going to spend another night.
The connecting door was firmly closed, but not locked. She had tried it an hour ago, eased the handle down while she laid her ear to the panel and listened. Avery had been speaking to Darke, a desultory conversation. Then she heard the valet say Goodnight. It was not even as though Avery had an evening engagement.
Laura looked from the pristine white bed to the door and back again. No, she was not going to climb between the covers and lie there patiently waiting on his lordship’s pleasure. She smiled ruefully. That was what she had been waiting for all the nights of their marriage. His pleasure, not hers.
As she walked to the door and pressed down the handle she asked herself what