Dangerous Lover (Crime & Passion #3) - Mary Lancaster

Chapter One

The house loomed out of the fog, indistinct yet alarming. Since it was surrounded by a high wall, Alexandra could make out only the upper stories until she came to a tall, wrought iron gate. Through the bars, it looked dauntingly old and uninviting. Neither did the air around it smell very pleasant. It was too close to the river.

Well, I have lived in worse places, and the salary is excellent. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the gate latch and walked into the garden. She closed the gate behind her and walked briskly up the path, which was clear of weeds and moss, though overhung by large trees and thick bushes. Ignoring the prickle up her spine, she stepped onto the porch and lifted the brass knocker.

Decent employers did not have to live in Mayfair or Belgravia, she reminded herself. Though it was surely odd to find a baronet living in this part of London, that was not her concern. Even so, when the door opened to reveal a smartly dressed maidservant, she was distinctly relieved.

“Alexandra Battle,” she introduced herself. “I believe I am expected.”

“Oh, yes, Miss Battle, come in out the nasty, damp fog,” the girl invited. “Mrs. Dart is waiting for you. James, t’will you tell Mrs. Dart that the governess has arrived.”

The large manservant so addressed was not in livery and was hurrying toward the back of the house, but he raised one hand in acknowledgement.

“Perhaps you’d like to wait in here, Miss.” The maid led her across a surprisingly cramped but tall entrance hall. There was a lot of dark wood with ornamental carving, and light tricking down the staircase. And a small, human figure skulking in the shadows beneath.

Alexandra pretended not to see the small figure—after all, it was natural for a child to be curious about her new governess—and merely followed the maid into a rather bare chamber. Here, an ancient wooden settle with cushions and a small round table seemed to be the only furnishings. At least the room appeared to be clean, as far as she could tell, for there was little light coming in the window.

The maid bustled off and Alexandra, still in her hat and cape, sat on the unforgiving settle. The door had been left ajar, and a moment later, a small girl materialized in the space. Beneath a wealth of dark, well-brushed hair, a pair of wide, serious brown eyes regarded her with more than a hint of foreboding.

“Good morning,” Alexandra said. “Are you, by chance, Evelina?”

The girl nodded and took a step further inside.

“How do you do?”

Whatever the child might have answered to this, remained unclear, for Mrs. Dart, the motherly, middle-aged housekeeper rustled into the room and took Evelina by the hand.

“So glad you found us, Miss Battle. I was worried about you seeing the correct house in this fog.”

“I imagine it must stand out in any other weather,” Alexandra said, rising to greet the housekeeper. They had met before, in a teashop in the Strand, where Mrs. Dart had interviewed her for the position. In fact, it was Mrs. Dart’s agreeable character and obvious respectability that had induced Alexandra to accept the position, for she found it odd not to meet the employers themselves. But then, since Mrs. Dart had only ever referred to Sir Nicholas Swan and never to Lady Swan, she assumed the mother was sadly deceased and the housekeeper more adept than a mere male at engaging governesses.

“This is Evelina,” Mrs. Dart said, tugging the little girl forward. “Evelina, this kind lady is your governess, Miss Battle. You must mind her as if she were your papa.”

For the first time, a smile lit up Evelina’s face. She actually laughed. “But she is nothing like Papa!”

“Of course, I am not,” Alexandra agreed, smiling back and holding out her hand. “But I’m sure we shall get on famously just the same.”

The girl curtseyed in a wobbly kind of way, then approached close enough for Alexandra to take her hand in a gentle shake. Evelina seemed slightly surprised but not displeased. She still had a shy smile in her eyes.

“Perhaps,” Alexandra suggested. “You could show me your schoolroom?”

“Oh yes,” Evelina said enthusiastically. Her little fingers gripped Alexandra’s and began tugging her toward the door. “Everyone has been cleaning it out, so that is huge now and it sparkles!”

“A sparkling schoolroom,” Alexandra marveled. “I have never seen one of those before. Lead on!”

Mrs. Dart cast an indulgent smile at the child and said, “I’ll come