The Duke and the Enigmatic Governess (Preview)

Prologue

“She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

Lord Byron, 1815

20th March 1816

The young woman pulled her cloak around her, trying to find strength and comfort in its warm woolen folds. Where was her cousin? He’d promised to be here, by the oak tree at midnight. 

The sky was dark, with wisps of mist rising from the river. She looked back and could barely see the outline of Rowton Castle, the ancestral home of the Earls of Cheshire, rising up against the skyline. 

She jumped as an owl screeched and flew overhead; its white feathers magnificent in the dark sky. 

I wish I could fly away like that, she thought. If only it was that easy to escape from home. Where is the carriage Rupert promised? It must be past midnight now. 

She let out an audible cry as a creature ran over her foot. Deep breaths, it was probably more scared of her than she was of it. 

You know this place, it’s home, you walk here every day. It’s just because it’s midnight, and you’re escaping to a new life.

A gap in the clouds illuminated the battlements and high ramparts of the ancient castle. Would she ever see Rowton Castle again? It would do no good to think that way, she had made her choice, and there could be no regrets. 

There it was the sound of a carriage coming toward her. As the door opened, she stepped forward, recognizing her cousin’s voice as he called into the darkness, “Are you there, fair Audrey, damsel in distress? Cousin Rupert at your service, ready to rescue you from your betrothal and impending marriage to the Duke of Batton.” 

As the coachman helped her into the carriage, she could still hear her cousin’s voice drawling on, “Sorry Audrey, I got caught up in a game and couldn’t leave till I’d recovered my losses.” 

“Oh, Rupert, did you have to get involved in a card game tonight? You knew you were due here at midnight. I’ve been standing here for ages, waiting for you.”

“You know me, cousin, what do you expect of a dandy, first tier of the ton. You know you’re lucky to have me. Who else would save you from marriage to a duke?”

“I know. It’s the dream of so many to be married to a duke. I, however, intend to marry for love or not at all.”

“Crazy girl, you could be married to a man who has ten thousand pounds a year, carriages, pin money, and a life of luxury.”

“But I would not have love! I need to have my own life and it starts tomorrow. It may only be as a governess in Harrogate, but it will be mine. I really am immensely grateful to you for arranging my travel, and a room for tonight.”  

She continued, “I am going to miss Rowton Castle. I’m leaving a little of my heart there, with so many memories of Mama and Papa, but I refuse to be forced into marriage by Ethan. He may be my guardian, but I’ll make my own way in the world, and hope I may find love one day.”  

“You be careful, Audrey. You’ve always been a romantic. All joking aside now, Ethan has changed in recent months. He always had a cruel streak but he’s much worse now, and he’s going to be in a hell of a rage when he discovers you’ve gone. You know he needs your marriage to the distinguished Duke of Batton to take place, to secure funds for his lifestyle.” 

Audrey looked out of the window, thinking of the people she was leaving behind. Only Rupert knew where she was going. She would miss him, and her best friend, Francine Weston, Franny. She hoped that it would not be long before she could see them again, and the separation would not be permanent. She could not bear that.

She thought again of the barn owl with its white feathers, swooping effortlessly into the dark, spring night, wishing she had wings to fly away. Never mind, she had an independent spirit and the skills to be a governess, albeit in disguise.

Chapter One – Unexpected guests

21st March 1816, the First Day of Spring

The Bell Inn

The stairs creaked as Jude, Duke of Clairville, was guided by his friend, Daniel Young, attorney-at-law, to the waiting carriage. 

“Now remember what I said, Jude, you’re living like a hermit at that country estate of yours. Your mother is right, you need to get to town and get to know some of the eligible young ladies.” Daniel said to him.

“Don’t tell me my mother has recruited you to her cause!” Laughed Jude slapping Daniel on his back before waving him goodbye.

The rain had eased, leaving a clear, moonlit sky. As he got into the carriage Jude, glanced up, longing to be in the countryside at his estate in Hertfordshire, but business had called him to London and his townhouse.

At least he got to see Daniel, not just his friend, but also his advisor. They had completed his business this afternoon, and he planned to return to Clairville estate the following day to see the first signs of spring in that historic landscape. He’d left his spaniel, Tess, at the estate, and missed those walks across the fields every morning. As soon as he was back at Clairville, he would go out for a long ride, gallop over the heath, and plunge into the lake and feel alive. It was only mid-March, the last day of winter, and the water in the lake would be cold, but Jude had grown-up enjoying swimming in the lake in all weathers.

As they headed back to Jude’s townhouse, the carriage wheels clattered on the road, wet from the torrents of rain which had been falling only a few hours earlier. 

In places the road was almost flooded, the horses’ hooves pounding out a rhythm as they splashed through the water, throwing it up to the height of the carriage window as it trundled through the city.

It had been good to spend time with Daniel, an evening of cards, cognac, and conversation had been just what he needed to improve his spirits. They’d arranged for Daniel to visit Clairville Hall the following month, with the promise that his friend didn’t return to the topic of marriage and settling down. He knew he would need to marry and secure an heir for the Clairville estate at some time in the years ahead, but he had no plans for that now. 

He closed his eyes, almost drifting off to sleep, as he got used to the rhythm of the carriage. 

He woke with a start, holding the side of the seat as the carriage lurched to a holt, horses rearing, and a loud cry from Barton, his driver. What the… a highwayman? Surely not in town?

A flash of white through the window and a crescendo of voices. Jude opened the carriage door and called to his footman, whom he could see kneeling on the road, a few feet away from the carriage. Barton was still trying to steady the horses, and it would be dangerous to dismount until the horses had quietened. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Jude heard Barton’s voice, coaxing to calm down the frightened animals. Deciding he could now get down from the carriage without endangering his life, he jumped, landing in a large puddle. Jude’s Hessian boots, and the bottom of his frock coat, were soaked by the water pooling under the carriage wheels. 

The voices grew clearer, and then the shrill cry of a child piercing the night. Above windows opened, and he heard a voice saying they would go and fetch a constable and a doctor. 

Then a scene of anguish unfolded in front of his eyes. 

The body of a woman, clad in a dark day dress and shawl, lay on the ground, collapsed in front of his carriage. Moving swiftly to give aid, he breathed a sigh of intense relief that the carriage had not hit her. Barton the driver had managed to stop the horses before they plowed over the frail body. 

A child stood, cowering near the woman, weeping and moaning. 

“Mama, Mama,” the tiny voice called. A couple of stable lads had run out from an inn and helped Barton secure the horses. 

There was no response from the woman. Jude crouched on the cobblestones, assessing her condition, and called for the footman to bring a horse blanket to put under her as she was laid in the muddy, fetid water. Taking the blanket, he gently placed it under her head. She moaned and opened her eyes for a second. 

“Sasha,” came a faint, croaking voice, “my baby. Look after my child…” She tried to move her head and he almost felt the shock of pain coursing through her body. 

He lifted her in his arms, knowing these were her last moments, so she could see the child. Her eyes caught sight of her daughter and she sighed. “Please, sir, my child,” the voice fading as she slipped into unconsciousness. Holding her shoulders he spoke to her quietly, telling her a doctor was on his way and her daughter was safe.

Where was the doctor?

He looked up, hoping to see a doctor, and caught sight of a woman running out of the inn, not looking where she was going as she raced across the road. 

For a split second, he gazed spellbound at this vision of ethereal beauty, and almost forgot where he was as his eyes were drawn to the woman in white, hair streaming behind her and her robe billowing as she ran to join him. He blinked to clear the bewitching image from his mind. Was this whole thing a dream? Was he hallucinating?

 “Is she alive?” asked the woman.

“Barely. I thought she’d been hit by the carriage, but it seems it was pure chance that she collapsed in front of my chaise. Something must have caused her to collapse.” 

The woman leant across and put her hand on the woman’s forehead. 

“She’s burning up with fever, poor thing.”

“Her child is over there. When she spoke, that was all she said, to look after her child,” Jude told her.

Her voice was calm and refined. “Has anyone sent for a physician?”. Despite being dressed in just her nightclothes; this was a lady of quality. 

“Someone has gone for a doctor and the constable, I believe,” Jude answered her.

“Good. We know this wasn’t an accident. She should be moved, but listening to her breathing, I fear she is near the end. It may just be best to keep her comfortable.” 

The woman looked toward the footman who stood near the horses. “Can you get more blankets?” she asked. 

The footman turned to the coach and returned with more blankets. 

“They’re only horse blankets, miss,” he muttered. 

“Never mind, she needs to be warm,” replied the woman.

“Can you put one around the shoulders of that little girl? She is shivering and in a state of shock.”

“Yes, miss. Mr. Barton has a daughter about that age, I’m sure he’ll look after the poor mite.”

Jude felt as though he almost knew this woman as they worked together through this crisis, their movement and thoughts almost synchronized.

“Do you know who she is?” he asked the young woman. 

“No, I’m staying in the inn, waiting for the stagecoach north in the morning. I was looking out of the window when I saw what happened. I believe she may have been staying at the inn, probably waiting for the same coach, but I didn’t speak with them. For some reason, I thought she was French. The little girl seemed excited to be at the inn and I remember her dancing around the parlor during dinner.” 

“The constable is coming,” said Barton, lifting the child into his arms. 

“It might be best if she sees her mama,” said the woman. “It’s traumatic, but she will need to understand what has happened and say goodbye.” 

“Here, my child. Your mama is very ill. I think she is going to another place, and you must say goodbye,” she said to the child.

“Mama, Mama,” whispered the child “Ne m’abandonnez pas.” She began to cry, great wracking sobs, which wrenched Jude’s heart. 

“She’s asking her mama not to leave her,” the woman in white whispered. 

Hearing a shout, Jude looked up, relieved to see the constable arrive. The constable crouched beside him and shook his head. “I think she’s gone,” he said. 

He stood surveying the scene. Jude shared the sequence of events briefly and looked in the direction of the little girl, who was nestled in the arms of the woman in white. 

“So, it wasn’t a carriage accident?” checked the constable. 

“No, she collapsed just before she reached the carriage,” explained Jude. “Barton, my driver, was closest.”

“It might be a fever then,” said the constable, with concern. “You say she was staying at the Bell, over there?”

“It seems so.”

“And this young woman, in the robe? Is she connected in some way?” asked the constable.

“It seems not. She saw events unfold from her window of her bedchamber.” 

“I’ll have a word… Ah, there’s Dr. Chiltern. Too late though, I doubt anything could have been done to save this poor lady.”

Dr. Chiltern nodded a greeting at the group as he arrived and bent to check there were no signs of life. 

“She’s dead.” He confirmed to the constable. “They can take her directly to the mortuary. They will do what’s necessary there,” the doctor continued.

 “Now let’s go and speak to Mr. Compton at the inn. We need to find somewhere for this child to stay tonight,” said the constable.  

The woman in white looked toward them and spoke up. “She can stay with me tonight, I have a room at the inn,” she said, in a gentle, but firm tone. 

The young woman’s robe had fallen open, revealing just a white nightgown underneath. Jude held out his arms to take the child. “Very well, a plan. I’ll carry her,” he said, averting his gaze from the delicate white cotton nightdress that framed her shape.

“You, er… this is a little awkward, but needs to be said, you may need to look to your attire, miss,” he added. “I don’t think the footmen and the constable are used to seeing ladies of quality in their nightclothes.” 

The young woman gasped and, face flushing a peach pink, pulled her robe tightly around her body. It was a flimsy silk robe, which still clung to every curve, but it did give a semblance of dignity.

“Barton, Jake,” Jude called to his men. “Let’s help the constable. Look around and see if anyone saw anything or knows this woman. Though in this weather that seems unlikely.” 

The street was eerily deserted; all the windows had closed again. He knew this part of town, and it wasn’t unusual for the streets to seem empty at this time of night. The doorway, that the woman in white had appeared from, was the Bell Inn, a coaching inn with a large sign, welcoming travelers, creaking in the breeze. He thought it likely any answers would be found there. 

He murmured reassuringly to the child, who was crying with muffled sobs, repeating “Mama, Mama,” before following the constable and the nameless woman in white to the Bell Inn.

The doorway was barred by the burly innkeeper. Arms crossed, he stood tall, making it clear no one would enter the inn. 

“Now, Richard, let this young lady through to her room,” said the constable. “Be reasonable. You look like you’ve made a blockade there.” 

“You’re not wrong, Fred,” responded Richard Compton, innkeeper of the Bell. “Liz, my wife, noticed that young woman and her child last night when she was serving supper. Coughing and spluttering, she didn’t look well.” 

He glared at the constable, clearly determined not to let anyone back in before continuing. “It might be consumption, or more likely the putrid sore throat. There was a case of that down Albion Street last week, a young girl died of it. I’ve got my business and reputation to think of, not to mention my own children. Liz would eat my guts for garters if I let that young woman and child back in.” He gestured them away from the door. 

“You’ve all been exposed and should stay away from other folk. They can take their illness elsewhere,” he added with a look of finality. 

The young woman looked stunned and unsure what to say. Jude saw her shoulder’s sag and he wanted to make it easier for her. 

“But Mr. Compton, I have to take the stagecoach north in the morning. My new employer will be expecting me. All my clothes and belongings are in my room,” the woman pleaded.

“That may be the case, miss, but the missus is packing your things, and those of that young woman who collapsed, and I believe I can hear her coming downstairs now. Liz, is that you?” he called behind him. 

“All packed and ready, my dear,” came the reply and Compton placed their portmanteau on the street outside the Bell, turned, and closed the door. 

Looking bewildered, the woman in white spoke in a voice so quiet, it was hard to hear her words. 

“What am I to do? I’ve nowhere to go. And what about this poor child who has just lost her mother? Is there no charity in the hearts of men and women anymore?”

The constable coughed. “You could find room at the poor house.” He paused. “But you sound like a lady of quality to me. I don’t think you will want to be in the poor house. I can take the little girl there, though Compton has a point about the illness. It might be contagious, we don’t know.”

Without thinking of the complications or propriety, Jude spoke calmly to the constable. “That child isn’t going to the poor house just hours after witnessing her mother’s death. They can stay with me, in my townhouse at Cambourne Place.” He was thankful his mother and sisters were all at the country estate, well away from any danger of contagion. 

“That makes a lot of sense, my lord, if I do say so myself, a whole lot of sense. I’d be most grateful if you’d take them in.” The constable was obviously relieved.

The young woman looked at Jude with relief and nodded her thanks. 

“I just need a word with yourself and the young lady before you leave,” added the constable. “Starting with your name, miss, if you don’t mind?” 

“Very well,” said the vision in white, “though I do have to say, Constable, that the priority should be to get this child into a warm bed. Let’s get this over with. I’m La-” she began forcefully, before stopping suddenly. 

She stumbled over saying her name, but Jude was not surprised given everything that had happened. The shock was obviously beginning to penetrate her previously calm demeanor.

The woman was looking confused, looking around, as if for inspiration. “I’m Laetitia Banks,” she stuttered, pausing before continuing with more certainty, “Miss Laetitia Banks, Lettie Banks. I’m on my way to be governess to a family near Harrogate.” 

“Well, miss, I don’t think you should be going into a house with children when you might be contagious with the morbid sore throat or some such. Best to wait a few days.”

“Very well. I don’t know who this gentleman is, but it seems I have no option but to accept his hospitality on behalf of myself and this poor child.”

Jude stepped forward, “I apologize, Miss Banks, for my lack of fine manners. I have not introduced myself. Jude Lightholder, Duke of Clairville.” 

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she kept her poise, and he admired her for that. 

“Then pray let us get this child into your carriage and near a warm fire as soon as possible. She is trembling and in shock.” 

So, the vision in white was Miss Laetitia Banks, and as he listened to her voice, so soothing and lovely he almost forgot where he was. 

Get a grip, Clairville, he told himself. That must have been very strong cognac Daniel served tonight. 

“My lord are you all right?” she enquired with eyes so kind, he could not help but nod and agree with anything she said. “You look as if you were in another world.” 

“I do apologize, Miss Banks, it has been a strange evening. You are quite right. Let’s get this child into the warmth.” 

I was somewhere elsewhere for a few seconds. I was drawn in by that mellifluous voice and kind, bonny blue eyes. I could listen to that voice all day, Jude thought to himself. The deep contralto tone stood out from the usual high sopranos of his mother and sisters. 

Come now, this is not the time to be thinking fanciful thoughts about a woman you only met a few minutes ago. This is what had happened to Father, bewitched by a pair of beautiful blue eyes and distracted from estate business by his romance with Mother, you were swindled by your land agent. I’ve spent the last 10 years sorting out the mess he left behind; we were lucky not to lose the Clairville Estate. 

Once they were settled in the carriage, he wondered again how he got into this scrape. All he had been doing was returning from a card game with Daniel. Since then, he had held a dying woman in his arms, acquired the woman in white, Miss Banks, and a tiny, motherless child, of about four years old, a similar age to his nieces. He led a quiet life, rarely in town, mostly on his estate in Hertfordshire and he rarely ventured into society, except for an occasional card game with friends. He was the duke with the reputation for austere living, the one who never let his emotions show.

In the morning, he would ask Daniel to set in motion enquiries about the child, currently snuggled against his frock coat, and about her dead mother. The constable had asked the little girl who she was, but she had simply shaken her head, reluctant to speak. It was as if she had lost her voice. 

Jake loaded Laetitia’s bags into the carriage and Barton got the horses ready to set off to the townhouse. The little girl was nestled in a corner of the carriage bench, tucked up with blankets. After the constable roused the innkeeper again, he had reluctantly brought our blankets for the carriage. 

“There you are, little one, we’re going to his lordship’s house to stay. It will be warm there,” said Miss Banks comforting the child.  

His heart felt heavy when the little girl looked at her with large, brown eyes and simply said “Mama, I want Mama,” with tears running down her cheeks. 

He called to Barton to set off and they began the journey to his house on the other side of London, Miss Banks next to him on the bench, as they rattled through the streets, the standing water splashing against the carriage sides. He realized Miss Banks had fallen asleep; her eyes closed from the rocking motion of the carriage. Her body fell sideways and rested against his and he could smell the scent of rose in her hair as it rested against his chest.

He was closer to the young lady than he had anticipated, and he knew he should wake her or at least try to push her aside, but the sensation of her body pressed against his gave him a welcome feeling of warm comfort, making him reluctant to move her. 

***

As the carriage drew up outside Cambourne Place, Jude jumped down, telling Miss Banks to stay in the carriage while he made arrangements with his housekeeper to minimize the danger of infection among the household staff. Lanterns blazed, lighting the elegant stone staircase of the Duke of Clairville’s London home. 

He called to Jake to alert Mrs. Driscoll to their arrival and tell her to come into the entrance hall. 

“My lord,” called the housekeeper, coming out of the parlor to greet him. “Whatever has happened?” 

“We have unexpected guests, Mrs. Driscoll, and I’m afraid this is going to cause you some extra work. We are giving refuge to a little girl, I believe of about four years old, who saw her mother die in front of her eyes only an hour ago. She’s in a state of shock. There is also a young lady who assisted the dying woman and has been evicted from the inn for her trouble.” 

“Of course, my lord. I’ll prepare the bedchambers.” Calmly competent, she asked no further questions. 

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” continued Jude, wondering how to put the next part. “The doctor who attended the scene thinks the child’s mother may have died of a fever. She ran out into the street and collapsed and had signs of a fever, possibly the putrid sore throat. The doctor advised minimal contact with people for a few days, to rule out the chance that anyone caught it from the child’s mother.” 

“That’s a concern, my lord, but I think it’s best to be cautious.” Replied Mrs. Driscoll.

“Barton, Jake, the young lady, the child, and I are all affected. The young lady is Miss Banks, who appears well spoken and tells me she was staying at the inn, on her way to take up a position as a governess in Harrogate.”

“You want to go into quarantine, my lord?” queried Mrs. Driscoll. 

“Exactly so.”

“I’ve had the morbid sore throat and am immune to most things since I nursed on that battlefield, so I insist on staying with you. If, and let us hope this is not going to happen, any of you fall ill then we’re going to need help. With your agreement, I’d like to send to Clairville to ask if Nurse Walters can join us.”

“No one better, Mrs. Driscoll. Just as long as Mama doesn’t decide to return with Nurse.” 

“She won’t. Her Ladyship knows she needs to be there for the twins. Your younger sisters need their mother.”

“I’ll send the carriage to Clairville. Now, where shall we quarantine? What do you suggest?”

“Hmm. Let me think. Ah yes. It will be best if you can keep to your bedroom, my lord. Will Mr. Quincy be staying with you?”

“Robert wasn’t with me so isn’t affected, and I’m capable of shaving and tying my own cravat. Barton can help me if I need it.” 

“I suggest we divide the house in half and use the back staircase near your bedchamber, then you can access the garden, drawing room, and my parlor. The young lady and little girl can have the guest bedrooms near my room. Barton and Jake can stay where they are. It will only be for four or five days at most.”

“Excellent. Mrs. Driscoll, you are remarkable. We would grind to a halt without you. Are you sure about joining us?” 

“Indeed, my lord. I’m immune to most things and have that nursing experience. I’d be happier if Nurse Walters was here. She will know how to help a little girl who has lost her mother in such tragic circumstances. Now if you’ll excuse me, my lord, I’ll go and find this poor wee girl and get her some broth and put her to bed. I’ll leave you to send the coach to Clairville for Nurse.”

Returning to the drawing room he was relieved to see the fire banked up high. Sasha, the child was settled and sleeping soundly. Miss Banks and Jude looked at each other, exhaustion and concern etched in all their faces. 

“The child’s sleeping,” said Miss Banks, “I thought she might struggle, but she was asleep as soon as her head was on the pillow.”

Mrs. Driscoll placed cold cuts of meat and bread on the polished walnut side table. Jude urged her to stay with him and Miss Banks and eat. 

“If we are to spend the next five days together, then we are going to have to set some of the rules of society aside. We shall eat together.”

Mrs. Driscoll bobbed a curtsey, “Very well, my lord.” 

The woman in white, as he would always think of her, had changed into a gown of pearl-gray dimity. He thought wistfully of the billowing white nightgown with a glimpse of ankle. 

Miss Banks spoke with urgency, eyes blazing like blue sapphires. “My lord. We need to locate Sasha’s family and quickly. Tonight, she saw her mother die in front of her eyes. I’m concerned she is not speaking, except for the occasional word. I remember from seeing her at the inn that she is a bright, lively child, chattering and dancing all the time. I know it is early days, but I believe she is in a state of deep shock.”

Mrs. Driscoll patted her hand gently. “It is indeed early days but I’m sure she will rally, although there will be much sadness for her to live through. We can help by giving her structure and care while her family is traced.”

“There is one thing, my lord,” continued Miss Banks, hesitating, “I did wonder, from her mother’s accent and the words I overheard as she spoke to Sasha, if she might be French. There is a lot happening on the continent at this time, and it seems possible they might have been escaping the conflict.” 

“If so, that will make our search more difficult, and the state that country is in, we may have little chance of success. Once we are out of this quarantine, my mother’s lady’s maid, who is fluent in French, will be happy to try to talk with the child. It was certainly possible this was a family escaped from the war in France,” said Jude. “For now, let us take a cup of tea, and sit near the fire. We’ve had a difficult night and need to keep our strength up.” 

Mrs. Driscoll raised the teapot and poured three cups through the silver strainer. Taking a seat next to Mrs. Driscoll, Miss Banks took a cup into her hands. Jude watched her breathe in the light, fruity fragrance, her hands wrapped around the warm cup.

“There are cold cuts, cheese, and bread. I know it’s late, but you need to keep your strength up,” Mrs. Driscoll reminded them.

Jude nodded his thanks. “The family doctor will visit tomorrow and examine the child. Let’s eat, sleep, and wait until the sun rises tomorrow to discuss this further. I for one, feel tired, and that is unusual for me, as Mrs. Driscoll will affirm,” Jude suggested.

Mrs. Driscoll laughed and agreed, “I’ve known your lordship since you were a small boy. Endless energy and determination at all times.” She turned to Miss Banks. “My mother was housekeeper here. You might say I grew up in this job. There is only Nurse Walters, who hopefully you will meet tomorrow, who has been with the family longer than me.”

Mrs. Driscoll settled to her embroidery near the fire and Miss Banks leaned across to admire her work. “It’s a new stitch for me, it’s called lazy daisy stitch,” Mrs. Driscoll told her.

“I love it,” exclaimed Miss Banks. “Will you show me how to do it?”

“Of course, miss. We’ll have plenty of time over the next few days.” Mrs. Driscoll settled into sewing, concentrating on the silk thread as her needle darted in and out of the linen. 

“I have lots of questions about you, Miss Banks, and I’m sure you have the same for me,” Jude said, looking toward her. “You’re clearly a young lady of quality, but in taking this position of governess, do you mind if I ask if you have fallen on hard times?” 

“That is true,” responded Miss Banks quietly but would say no more. 

After half an hour, feeling better for eating a plate of bread and cheese, warmed by the tea, Miss Banks appeared ready to retire to bed. She’d insisted on sleeping in the same room as Sasha, and Mrs. Driscoll had arranged for a little truckle bed for the child, next to the four-poster bed with its heavy damask drapes. A fire was already blazing in the room. 

“You’re ready for bed, my dear,” Mrs. Driscoll said with a smile. “Let me show you the way.” Miss Banks nodded at Jude and left the room with Mrs. Driscoll. 

Jude stared into the embers of the fire. A few hours ago, he had left this house with his only responsibilities his estate at Clairville, not a small matter, but one he understood. Now he had temporary guardianship of a child who had lost her mother, plus a feisty young woman with whom he had to spend the next few days in quarantine. 

He silently thanked Mrs. Driscoll for joining them in their confinement. He wasn’t sure if he was looking forward to the arrival of Nurse Walters, the woman who had raised him and his five sisters alongside his mama. She ruled the nursery with fairness, and underneath her sharp tongue and strict manner lay a heart of gold. 

He settled deep into the leather chair, a glass of cognac replacing the tea. As soon as he closed his eyes, a vision of a woman in a white diaphanous nightgown and silk robe billowing around her floated into his thoughts. This was going to be an interesting few days living together in what was, in effect, close confinement. 

Miss Laetitia Banks was a guest in his home, and he would put aside his memories of her racing into the street, no thought for her own safety.

He roused himself and set about writing a letter to Daniel, giving instructions to begin enquiries into Sasha’s background and search for her family across Great Britain and into France. 

---

“The Duke and the Enigmatic Governess” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Choosing to make her own decisions, Audrey Rowe escapes from her brother’s scheme to marry her to an elderly duke. With her wedding dress hanging ready in her room, she slips away to a new life as a governess in disguise. Her path intertwines though with that of the enigmatic Duke of Clairville, as they stumble upon an orphaned child amidst the aftermath of a tragic accident. Bound by circumstance, Audrey and the Duke find themselves quarantined together within the Duke’s estate, where proximity ignites an unexpected attraction.

Will the many storm clouds ever part to allow Audrey to find love as a disguised governess?

In the secluded halls of Clairville Manor, Duke Jude Lightholder finds himself entangled in a web of secrets and hidden identities. Dodging his mother’s matrimonial machinations, he’s drawn to the mysterious governess, Audrey, whose past is shrouded in enigma. As tensions simmer amidst preparations for the Celestial Zodiac Ball, Jude has an important decision to make…

Will he succumb to societal expectations and choose the poised bride his mother favours, or will he dare to trust Audrey, despite the shadows that cloak her true self?

As Audrey blossoms in her newfound confidence, Jude begins to embrace the possibility of love. However, looming danger from Audrey’s brother threatens their happiness. As a storm gathers over the Celestial Zodiac Ball, can their star-crossed love endure? Will their declarations of love be enough to conquer the shadows? Or will darkness consume their romance just as it unfolds?

“The Duke and the Enigmatic Governess” is a historical romance novel of approximately 70,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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