The Baron's Governess Bride

  Plain, Prim…Perfect!

  Lord Steadwell’s three motherless daughters were heartbroken when their last governess ran off to elope. In her dowdy cap and spectacles, Grace Ellerby seems an ideal replacement—a nurturing, intelligent woman uninterested in marriage. No wonder Rupert doesn’t recognize Grace as the golden-haired vision at a masked ball, who slips away before midnight....

  Frightened by the unwanted attentions of previous employers, Grace resolved to hide her beauty…and her growing feelings for Rupert. One enchanted evening—and a sweet, breathtaking kiss—changes everything. For with Grace’s three adorable charges playing fairy godmother, Rupert may discover his happy ending is closer than he thinks.

  “Before I can make you an offer of employment, Miss Ellerby, there is one matter we must first settle to my satisfaction.”

  Though his lordship spoke in a kindly tone, his words chilled her. “Three different positions in ten years is more than one would expect of a governess who gave satisfaction in her work. How do you account for it in your case?”

  Why must he ask the one question above all others that she could not bear to answer? How would Lord Steadwell react if she blurted out the truth–that she had fled each of those households after receiving unwelcome advances from men?

  She could imagine Lord Steadwell’s reaction to such a claim from a woman who looked the way she had made herself. He would think she was stark, raving mad! But she would not dare pull off her cap and spectacles to reveal her true appearance. His lordship seemed an honorable gentleman, but Grace knew all too well the effect her cursed beauty could have upon men.

  Books by Deborah Hale

  Love Inspired Historical

  The Wedding Season: “Much Ado About Nuptials”

  *The Captain’s Christmas Family

  *The Baron’s Governess Bride

  *Glass Slipper Brides

  DEBORAH HALE

  After a decade of tracing her ancestors to their roots in Georgian-era Britain, Golden Heart winner Deborah Hale turned to historical romance writing as a way to blend her love of the past with her desire to spin a good love story. Deborah lives in Nova Scotia, Canada, between the historic British garrison town of Halifax and the romantic Annapolis Valley of Longfellow’s Evangeline. With four children (including twins), Deborah calls writing her “sanity retention mechanism.” On good days, she likes to think it’s working.

  Deborah invites you to visit her personal website at www.deborahhale.com, or find out more about her at www.Harlequin.com.

  Deborah Hale

  The Baron’s Governess Bride

  Let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.

  —1 Peter 3:4

  To Elaine Logan Melanson, a wonderful mother

  and stepmother and an amazing friend!

  I’ve been waiting for just the right story

  to dedicate to you, and this was it.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Questions for Discussion

  BPA

  Chapter One

  Berkshire, England

  1815

  Most governesses heading off to meet with a prospective employer for the first time would have made every effort to look their best.

  But Grace Ellerby did quite the opposite.

  In her tiny room at Reading’s George Inn, Grace retrieved a small, cracked mirror from her trunk to check that not a wisp of golden hair peeped out from under her cap. With long lappets down each side, it was the type of cap worn by older women who had entirely given up hope of finding husbands. Grace approved of the way it narrowed her face, making her features appear flatter and plainer. Its starched whiteness conspired with the drab green of her high-necked dress to drain all the color from her complexion. Once she put on the tiny spectacles to obscure her eyes, she would be prepared to meet Lord Steadwell.

  From outside, the bells of a nearby church tolled the half hour. She must be on her way.

  Grace tucked the mirror away and donned her dark bonnet and shawl. Then she slipped out of her room and made her way to the Old Castle Coffeehouse, where she had been directed to meet the gentleman.

  The entire process was most irregular in Grace’s experience. Most families seeking a governess simply inquired among their acquaintances until someone recommended a suitable candidate. When they were obliged to place a notice in the newspapers, the hiring would all be managed through an exchange of correspondence. Grace had never heard of a prospective governess being summoned for an interview, especially from such a long distance with funds supplied for her traveling expenses.

  That irregularity had worked to her advantage, Grace reminded herself as she picked her way through the streets of Reading, her gaze modestly downcast yet alert for any potential threat. From the money Lord Steadwell sent for her journey, she’d been able to save a bit by riding on the outside of the stagecoach, eating sparingly and taking the cheapest rooms. Even if she did not secure this position, surely she would have a better chance of finding another here in the south. The funds for her return trip together with what she’d already saved should keep her for a while if she was careful.

  She hoped it would not come to that.

  Spying the sign for the coffeehouse, Grace rummaged in her reticule and pulled out the spectacles that were her only tangible reminder of her late father. When she peered through the thick lenses, the world swam and wobbled, forcing her to squint in an effort to focus her vision.

  She breathed a fervent prayer that the interview would go well then crossed the threshold of the coffeehouse and glanced around for his lordship. The baron and his wife had put themselves to some trouble and expense to find the best possible governess for their children. He had written good letters, too—plain and direct without the superior airs Grace had expected from someone of his rank. Those things led her to hope a position with the Steadwells would be more agreeable than any of her previous ones.

  No sooner had she entered than a gentleman rose from a table near the door and approached her with a respectful bow. “Have I the honor of addressing Miss Ellerby from Lancashire?”

  Squinting through her father’s thick spectacles, Grace could not make out his features very clearly, but she could tell he was tall and lean with dark hair. His voice had a most agreeable timbre, rich yet mellow. His courtesy certainly recommended him—addressing a humble governess as if she were a fine lady. If she had met him without her disguise, Grace might have been suspicious of his intentions. But she could have nothing of that nature to fear in her present state, especially not from a happily married man.

  “I am Grace Ellerby, sir.” As she curtsied, Grace reminded herself not to smile. She dared not risk anything that might make her look more attractive. “Are you Lord Steadwell, with whom I have corresponded?”

  “I am, indeed,” he replied. “I hope you had a tolerable jo
urney south. I appreciate you indulging this whim of mine to meet in person before making you an offer of employment. As a countryman born and bred, I cannot reconcile myself to buying a pig in a poke when it comes to the education of my daughters.”

  Some women might have resented being compared to a market sow, but Grace welcomed it. There was something about his lordship’s direct, down-to-earth manner that made her feel more at ease in his company than she did with most men.

  Once again she fought the dangerous urge to smile. “My journey was quite satisfactory, sir. And your concern for your daughters’ education does you credit.”

  That was something else Grace found odd about this whole situation. In her experience the gentleman of the house seldom took any interest in hiring a governess unless a young son of the family was to be among the pupils before being sent away to school.

  “Charlotte, Phoebe and Sophie are all the world to me.” Lord Steadwell’s tone of warm affection for his daughters raised him even higher in Grace’s esteem. “Let us retire to a private parlor where we may discuss my girls and your qualifications at greater length.”

  He led her through the main room, where a number of men sat reading newspapers and talking together in hushed tones. The rich aromas of coffee and chocolate hung in the air, making Grace’s mouth water.

  She followed Lord Steadwell up a set of narrow stairs to a snug parlor on the upper floor.

  “Pray be seated, Miss Ellerby.” He gestured toward a pair of armchairs and a small settee clustered around a low coffee table. “And tell me what manner of refreshment I may order for you. Do you prefer coffee or chocolate?”

  Though the toothsome luxury of chocolate tempted her, the last thing Grace wanted was to relax and enjoy herself.

  “Coffee, if you please.” She replied as she sank onto one of the chairs. The bitter, stimulating brew would help keep her wits about her.

  As they waited for their beverages to arrive, Lord Steadwell told her a little about his estate. “Nethercross lies ten miles north and east of here on the bank of the Thames. It has been home to my family for more than two hundred years. The countryside is some of the finest I have ever seen—not that I am any great traveler. Why venture abroad when one has been blessed with such a beautiful home?”

  “Your estate sounds like an ideal place to raise children.” Grace’s desire to secure the position intensified. Nethercross sounded like a wonderful place to live and work.

  His lordship nodded. “As a boy, I was sorry to leave it for my schooling and very happy to return whenever the opportunity arose.”

  Grace could sympathize with his reluctance to go away to school, though she envied his chances to return home at holidays. Once she’d been sent away to the Pendergast School at the age of eight, she never saw the vicarage in Oxfordshire again. This was the closest she had been to her old home in nearly twenty years.

  “My girls love the old place, too,” his lordship continued. “Though Charlotte is only thirteen, she takes a great interest in all matters of housekeeping. Only last week she suggested we hang new wallpaper in the music room. Sophie, my youngest, is six. She likes nothing better than to explore the house from cellars to attic. Once she disappeared for hours and we were frantic until she was found napping on the window seat of a back landing.”

  Lord Steadwell’s daughters reminded Grace of two of her friends from school—Hannah, the capable domestic, and Evangeline, the intrepid explorer. She felt certain she would get on better with them than with some of the proud, sulky and downright malicious pupils she had taught in her previous posts.

  “What about your other daughter?” Grace racked her memory for the name of the middle child, who was ten, as she recalled from his lordship’s letter. “Does Phoebe love Nethercross as much as her sisters do?”

  A waiter appeared just then with their coffee and a plate of muffins. Grace feigned a cough to cover the rumbling of her empty stomach.

  “Ah, Phoebe.” The baron greeted Grace’s question with something between an indulgent chuckle and an exasperated sigh. “I fear she is more attached to the stables and the grounds than to the house. She would sleep in her pony’s manger if she thought she could get away with it.”

  As Grace added a little cream and sugar to her coffee, she warmed even more to Lord Steadwell’s middle daughter than to her sisters. She admired and rather envied Phoebe’s indomitable spirit.

  “Enough about me and mine.” His lordship leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Ellerby, and why you feel you would make a suitable governess for my girls.”

  “Very well, sir.” Grace recited a brief account of her background. “I was educated at the Pendergast School in Westmoreland and later served as a teacher there before becoming a private governess. Since then I have been employed by three families in the north, most recently the Heskeths of Burnley in Lancashire. I have a letter of recommendation from Mrs. Hesketh if you would care to read it.”

  She retrieved the letter from her reticule and held it out to Lord Steadwell.

  His lordship unfolded the letter and quickly scanned its contents. “It is perfectly in order and says the same things most such letters do. What I wish to know, Miss Ellerby, is what sets you apart and makes you uniquely qualified for the position of governess to my girls?”

  Relieved though she was that he had found Mrs. Hesketh’s recommendation acceptable, Grace scarcely knew how to respond to his lordship’s unorthodox question. Harsh experience had taught her that security and peace came only at the price of conformity. She had gone to great lengths to mask her uniqueness.

  “I do not know what to tell you, sir.” She cast her gaze down to her lap where her fingers toyed with the strings of her reticule. “I am not accustomed to recommending myself. From a young age, I was taught the importance of humility. All I can say is that I want this position very much and if I get it, I will do everything in my power to give satisfaction.”

  She cast a fleeting glance up over the top of her father’s spectacles and saw Lord Steadwell’s face clearly for the first time. He looked younger than she had expected, with strong, attractive features and dark eyes. He considered her reply with a thoughtful nod as if it was what he’d wanted to hear. But how could that be?

  “You are the last of the applicants I have interviewed, Miss Ellerby, and I suspect the best suited for the position.”

  A sob of relief rose and caught in Grace’s throat. “Thank you, sir.”

  “But before I can make you an offer of employment, there is one matter we must first settle to my satisfaction.” Though his lordship spoke in a kindly tone, his words chilled her. “Three different positions in ten years is more than one would expect of a governess who gave satisfaction in her work. How do you account for it in your case?”

  Why must he ask the one question above all others that she could not bear to answer? Grace’s breathing sped and a wave of dizziness came over her. How would Lord Steadwell react if she blurted out the truth—that she had fled each of those households after receiving unwelcome advances from men?

  Coming from a woman who looked as she did, he would probably think she was stark, raving mad! But she would not dare pull off her cap and spectacles to reveal her true appearance. His lordship seemed an honorable gentleman, but Grace knew all too well the effect her cursed beauty could have upon men.

  * * *

  Miss Ellerby seemed perfect…in appearance at least.

  As Rupert Kendrick waited for her to answer his question, he could not help but approve of her looks. She was, without a doubt, one of the most thoroughly unmarriageable women he had ever beheld. Pale and plain, the poor creature did not help herself with her choice of prim, dowdy clothes. If anything, they proclaimed her total disregard for ever securing a husband.

  Th
at was precisely the sort of governess Rupert required for his daughters. It was the reason he’d taken the unorthodox step of insisting to see the applicants for the position before making his choice.

  The girls’ previous governess had abandoned them to elope with the younger son of a neighboring family. His daughters had been much upset by her sudden disappearance, especially little Sophie.

  In the wake of Mademoiselle Audet’s defection, Rupert had made two vows. The first was that he would hire a governess who would remain with his daughters for as long as they needed her. The second was that he would put aside his lingering grief for his late wife and find the girls a new mother to love and care for them.

  Because securing a suitable governess had seemed more urgent and easier than finding a suitable wife, he had undertaken the task with his usual determination. But after placing notices in several newspapers, reviewing all the letters of application and arranging to interview the most promising candidates, he had found them all too young and attractive for his liking. Until Miss Grace Ellerby, who was the embodiment of everything he sought.

  Part of him wanted to offer her the position the moment he laid eyes on her. Miss Ellerby’s interest in his children swayed him even more in her favor. But prudence would not let him go further until the question of her past positions had been answered to his satisfaction. Clearly she had not quit those other households to elope, but she had left, or been asked to leave, for some reason. To be certain Miss Ellerby would remain at Nethercross until Sophie was ready to leave the schoolroom, he must discover what that reason was.

  Could she have been too strict with the children? Did she have revolutionary theories of education? Was she a secret drunkard?

  That last possibility made a grin tug at Rupert’s lips. But his deeply ingrained sense of caution wiped it away before it fully developed. What was taking Miss Ellerby so long to answer a simple question? Was it possible she did have something to hide?