When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,84
that was shrouded in cloth.
“This was Flossie’s room,” Lord Marbury said, touching a set of mother-of-pearl brushes on a dressing table. “I left everything exactly as it was.”
In case she ever returned. Those words hovered unspoken in the stale air of a room kept closed for over two decades. Tessa’s breast ached to envisage her mother living here, a girl full of hopes and dreams.
And then suddenly, there she was.
“Mama,” Tessa breathed as she made haste to the painting that hung above the marble mantel. It was the portrait of a slender young lady with toffee-brown hair, standing at a window, smiling dreamily out at a green vista. She wore a gauzy white gown with the dainty gold pendant at her throat.
“I can see why you mistook Tessa for her,” Carlin told the marquess.
Stepping protectively to her side, Lord Marbury gave him a sharp look. “You address your governess in familiar terms, Duke.”
“There is something of a question as to how she ought to be addressed,” Carlin said adroitly. “Shall I call her Miss James? Or Miss Payne?”
“Miss Payne, of course,” Lord Marbury said, easily distracted by such a pertinent issue. “My granddaughter is a rightful member of this family. And as such, she can no longer be employed by you. It would be proper for her to remove from your house and to live here instead.”
Startled, Tessa spun around. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. You are Lady Florence’s daughter. I have no other living children, so you are all I have left to continue the line.”
“But … I’m bastard-born. I don’t even know the name of my father.”
“Bah. We shall concoct a story to explain your absence from England all these years. Perhaps Flossie ran off to Italy, where she wed an Englishman by the last name of James.” Devising his plans, he limped around the bedchamber, the tip of his cane thumping on the carpet. “Ah, then you must remain Miss James, after all.”
“I don’t speak Italian!”
His age-spotted hand waved away the argument. “Then let us say Canada. All that matters is that it be a distant locale, somewhere not easily disproven. People may whisper, but no one will dare to question my word that you are my long-lost granddaughter.”
“I should rather you would lend me the funds to open a millenary shop.”
“My granddaughter in trade? Never! No, you shall join me in this house and prepare to take your rightful place in society.”
His obstinate face made Tessa’s heart sink. Lud! Her entire life had been turned topsy-turvy. She had come here with the simple hope of securing the means to design elegant hats for ladies—not to be taken into a noble family and expected to be one of those ladies.
“I couldn’t possibly live here, milord. We’re strangers to each other. And there’s Lady Sophy—His Grace’s daughter—to consider. I can’t simply abandon the child.”
Lord Marbury parted his lips to argue, but Carlin spoke first. “This has all been very distressing for Miss James. It would be most kind of you to allow her a few days in which to accustom herself to the news.”
The marquess wasn’t happy, but in the end he agreed. He needed time, anyway, to prepare the house, to hire additional staff, to write to a spinster cousin and command her to London at once to act as his granddaughter’s chaperone. He seemed brighter and livelier, as if he’d gained new life from the news. He was still scheming as they departed his house.
In something of a stupor, Tessa entered the carriage and sat down. So many thoughts were darting around in her head that she hardly knew how to focus on any one of them. She had a blood relative; no longer was she alone in the world. And if her grandfather enjoyed books, as his overstuffed library would indicate, she thought he might be an interesting conversationalist.
Yet to enter the ton, to hobnob with the swells! She, who had never attended a single society event except Carlin’s lecture, would be expected to know how to waltz, to play cards, to ride horses, to chitchat with nobles, and a thousand other highbrow skills. The very notion threw her into a panic.
“Well,” the duke said coolly, “I cannot say that I’ve ever seen Marbury so animated about anything. He was always a dour fellow, and it’s good that he took the news of a long-lost granddaughter so well.”
“Good?” Tessa burst out. “No, Carlin. I cannot do this. I can’t move into his house and