My Lady Governess (Zebra Regency Romance) Read Free Page B

with a flash of brilliant white teeth and a shallow dimple that appeared only on the left side. The laugh crinkles at his eyes belied his rather austere demeanor. I’ll wager that smile has captured many a heart at a London ball, Elinor mused.
    Under ordinary circumstances, their social paths might have crossed before now, but after her obligatory season in Town, she had spent but little time in the city. She knew Trenville had come into his title when his older brother died of a fever. The current marquis had married the reigning debutante three years before Elinor had made her own come-out. Lady Beatrice had died in childbirth and rumor had it that the marquis was in no hurry to marry again. He was, of course, considered a prime catch by many an aspiring miss and her matchmaking mama.
    The interview had gone well, she thought. Both the marquis and his mother seemed to have accepted Elinor‘s—that is, Miss Palmer’s—credentials at face value. She had tried to answer all their questions with the truth as it applied to herself whenever possible. The fewer lies to keep in mind, the better. Still, she was not at all sure that the duchess did not harbor suspicions. She would have to be careful on that coach journey with the older woman.

Two
    The next day Trenville’s coachman was prompt in calling for Elinor. As her meager belongings were stowed on the carriage, she bid Miss Palmer and the Hendersons good-bye. She had posted a letter to her brother, telling him only that she had taken a position she was certain would provide for her adequately and instructing him again not to worry.
    She still feared her uncle’s finding her and dragging her back to marry the repulsive baron. She had awakened from horrifying dreams twice in the last week. She managed to quell these feelings, though, and she was rather looking forward to this new adventure in her life. There was something exciting about actually being another person for a while—and, after all, she would return to her own self and her own life soon enough.
    On arrival at the Trenville town house, Elinor was shown to a well-appointed room near the now idle schoolroom and other rooms set aside for children. The marquis and his mother were out, but they had instructed that a tray be delivered to her room for tea and she was to join them later for dinner. Elinor freshened up and readied herself for dinner.
    Dinner was rather informal as there were only the marquis, his mother, his secretary, a Mr. Huntington, and herself. Thomas Huntington was some five or six years younger than his employer—mid—twenties, Elinor thought. He had reddish blond hair and blue eyes. He displayed a ready smile and there was a clean and wholesome look about him. In some undefinable way, he made her think of Peter.
    “I understand you will be journeying to Devon on the morrow, Miss Palmer,” he said conversationally as they were introduced in the drawing room before dinner.
    “Yes,” she replied. “I am quite looking forward to it, for I have never been there, nor have I lived near the sea.”
    “Where do you hail from, my dear?” the duchess asked.
    “I beg your pardon?” Elinor asked to gain time to think. Had any of Miss Palmer’s papers mentioned a place of origin?
    “Where is your home?” the duchess repeated.
    “Yorkshire, Your Grace.” She settled on an area near her own native Lincolnshire and mentally crossed her fingers that there was nothing to the contrary in those papers. “But not at all near the sea.”
    “The seaside can be quite glorious when the weather cooperates,” Huntington said.
    “I quite like the sea even in a storm,” Trenville offered.
    “Comes from your years as a sailor, I daresay.” Huntington turned to Elinor to add, “Trenville was with Nelson in the Mediterranean, you know.”
    “No. I did not know. How very interesting.” First the navy, now the Foreign Office, she thought. Was he motivated by desire to serve, or by desire for power? She