My Lady Governess (Zebra Regency Romance) Read Free

her. “My work in the Foreign Office keeps me away from home a good deal of the time and my mother has often been with the children. Since she has had more experience at this sort of thing than I, with your permission, I should like her to join us for this interview, Miss Palmer.”
    “Of course,” she said politely.
    He looked at the woman carefully. He had noted her to be of medium height, perhaps a bit shorter. She carried herself well. She had light brown hair, parted in the middle and pulled back into a bun on the nape of her neck; a straight, well-shaped nose; and a firm jaw and chin. Would she be inclined to be stubborn? he wondered. A generous sprinkling of freckles splashed across her nose. Ah, perhaps she will not be averse to spending time out-of-doors with the children. His perusal came to an abrupt halt with her eyes. Behind a pair of ordinary eyeglasses were the most extraordinary eyes he had ever seen. An intriguing shade of gray-green—like certain pieces of Oriental jade, he thought. Nor did the spectacles camouflage delicately arched dark brows and dark lashes. She smiled nervously, drawing his attention to her mouth. Too wide for conventional beauty, he mused, then abruptly brought himself to the task at hand.
    “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I did not mean to stare.”
    She nodded, acknowledging his statement, and withdrew some papers from a packet she carried. “My references, your lordship,” she said, handing them to him.
    “References. Yes, of course.”
    There were a few moments of silence as he looked them over. His eyebrows rose significantly and he was about to say something when the door opened and his mother swept into the room. Both he and Miss Palmer rose at her entrance.
    “Miss Harriet Palmer, my mother, Duchess of Wallenford.”
    “Your grace.” Miss Palmer curtsied to the other woman and turned to the marquis. “My lord, I am accustomed to using my second name which is Elinor.”
    “All right. Miss Elinor Palmer is here about the governess position,” Adrian said unnecessarily.
    “Yes, I assumed as much,” the duchess said, taking a seat and waving them back to theirs. She subjected the younger woman to the same scrutiny her son had. “You seem rather young for a governess.” She was blunt, but not unkind.
    “I am nearly four and twenty, your grace—old enough to have been employed for some years.” Miss Palmer looked at the duchess directly. There was a defensive note, but her voice was well-modulated, her accent upper class.
    “Your references speak well for you,” Adrian interjected in a matter-of-fact tone. He smiled politely, but his voice became faintly skeptical as he added, “Do you really speak all these languages?” He handed the papers to his mother.
    “I speak French fluently,” she said. “My German is adequate. My Spanish slightly less so. My Italian ...” She shrugged slightly. “I am afraid my Italian is barely social.”
    “Luckily, the children do not entertain many visitors from Italy,” he said.
    The duchess looked up. “You seem remarkably well educated for a female, Miss Palmer. You read Latin and Greek?”
    Miss Palmer seemed to color up at the disbelieving tone. “Yes, Your Grace, I do,” she said firmly. “My father was educated at Oxford and he thought daughters as worthy of schooling as sons.”
    “I see,” the duchess murmured.
    The marquis and his mother continued to query her about her qualifications and her feelings about working with young children. She told them that, in addition to associations noted in her references, she had helped to rear her younger brother after her mother died. They informed her the position entailed caring for the marquis’s twins, a boy and a girl, aged six. Their mother having died at their birth, the children had heretofore been largely in the care of nursery maids. It was past time to start their formal education. The governess would also have in her care his ward, the nine-year-old