The American Bride - By Karla Darcy Page 0,61

in fury. His large hands clenched and unclenched in an excess of frustration.

"Your entire act as governess has been a shameless charade!"

"It has not!" Cara defended herself. With dignity she rose to her feet facing the furious man with an anger of her own. "I have been a perfect governess. Well, almost perfect," she faltered.

"But you've lied throughout," he stormed. "Your dowdy clothes, mousy behavior, and, oh ho, your pitiful show of unhorsemanship," he accused. "What a bravura performance. You have missed your calling, my dear. You should be on the stage."

"You, sir, hired me to be a governess to your wards. You did not hire me to strut around in fancy dresses and ride to the hounds."

In high dudgeon Cara whirled and stalked off toward the meadow. Julian stood thunderstruck. The haughty wench intended to bluster her way out of this. Shaking his head in disbelief, he strode after her, catching hold of her arm as she stepped out into the field.

"Miss Farraday!" he bellowed. "I want a full explanation of this entire affair!"

"You are hurting my arm, sir," Cara said coldly, staring down in disdain where his gloved hand dug in to the material of her sleeve.

Infuriated beyond control, Julian flung her arm away, striding after her as she continued to walk toward the horses that were peacefully grazing. Glancing up through her lashes, Cara suspected that Julian was close to apoplexy. His breathing was ragged and his jaw was set dangerously. Stopping abruptly, she turned to face him.

"Lord Wilton, I was a woman alone in England," Cara began, trying to stick as close as she could to the truth without giving away too much. "I wanted the position as governess but for my own protection I chose to dress in clothes that would make me acceptable to being hired. I wanted to be inconspicuous."

"You, my dear, could never be inconspicuous," Julian snapped.

"But I think you will agree that I did do the job I was hired to do," continued Cara as though she had not been interrupted. "If it's any consolation I have already made plans to leave your employ."

"No, Miss Farraday, you will not be leaving," replied Julian ominously. "At least not until I get to the bottom of this business."

Trying to hide how much his words had shaken her, Cara pulled out her head scarf and covered her hair then permitted him to give her a leg up. With back straight and head held high she rode beside Julian down the hill toward the Hall.

Chapter Eleven

Glum came running as the two horses trotted into the stable yard. He shrugged in futility as he met Julian's accusing stare. Noting the disheveled girl, he hurried to help her dismount. Cara patted his arm comfortingly and gave him the faintest glimmer of an apologetic smile.

"Miss Farraday," Julian ground out. "If you please, after you have changed I will see you in my office." Then leaning close to her ear, he snarled, "And don't attempt to do anything foolish." Turning toward Glum, whose face was bleak with resignation, he barked, "Miss Farraday is not to ride for the remainder of her stay with us."

Julian stormed off toward the Hall and Cara's shoulders slumped in defeat. She tried to put on a brave front for the old man who looked so woebegone, but sheer exhaustion left her close to tears.

"Don't worry, Glum," she said in a ragged voice. "I'll tell him it was all my fault. I promise you won't lose your job." Cara hoped that would be true.

"Never mind, Miss. His Lordship be a hard man but he's a fair one. Perhaps it'll all blow over," he added.

"Perhaps," Cara agreed, suspecting she was well off the mark.

Her feet dragged as she made her way to her room. She stared around the room that had become so familiar to her. Tears pricked her lids but she shook her head, refusing to give up all hope. Crossing the room she faltered as she spied a letter on her desk. Picking it up she knew without opening it that it was a note from her grandmother. She smiled, wondering which chambermaid had been bribed to bring the letter to her room. No doubt the girl thought it was some romantic billet-doux. Shrugging in defeat she tossed the letter on her quilt.

"If only the letter had come yesterday," Cara moaned.

She winced as she imagined what her grandmother would say about her present predicament. Her mind whirled and in confusion she thought of what