Rules of Engagement Read Free

favor. Now—as to my requirements."
    "For the orphan?"
    "No. One orphan's much the same as another, I suspect. My requirements for the governess."
    He might be the handsomest man Hannah had ever met, but he made her head whirl with his assumptions, his requisites and his loathsome ruthlessness. To deal with him was to deal with the devil, yet he bore an air of implacability that convinced her that open defiance would have unpleasant repercussions. Yes, she was familiar with lords who imagined themselves so superior they could do as they wished regardless of the unhappiness they caused, and yes, she knew well that unless she employed tact, she and the Distinguished Academy of Governesses would be much the worse for it.
    "Do you wish to interview our selection of governesses?" she asked.
    "I will tell you what I need and you will get it for me."
    She was relieved, for their current selection included only her and Pamela. "What do you need?"
    "A plain woman, one not given to fantasizing, one with her feet firmly planted on the ground. An older woman." His full mouth compressed into a thin line. "An older woman who has left all hope of marriage, or even romance, behind."
    I don't know of a governess like that. Hannah wanted to cut him down to size so badly! But Pamela now waved her hands emphatically, demanding the job as if she weren't the feminine counterpart of the handsome Lord Kerrich. Had she gone mad?
    When Hannah hesitated, his teeth clamped together. "Come, Miss Setterington, you know the reason. I am sick of being the object of lovelorn sighs. I have to put up with it in my own household—one needs scullery maids, the housekeeper assures me. But if I must spend time with a governess, and I will have to, then I want to be assured she will not be making cow eyes at me or, God forbid, sneaking into my bedchamber and peeling down to nothing. Which just happened with the senior upstairs maid who one would think knew better."
    "One would think so." Hannah might have been tempted to laugh, but he was so sincere—and so conceited.
    Actually, if not for his demand that the governess be plain, Pamela was the perfect candidate. She had little use for men. In fact, she could have wed many a time, but always she had refused, and haughtily, too.
    But she liked children, and they liked her. Why she was willing to be part of a scheme that must end in a child's heartache, Hannah didn't understand. Rising, she cut the interview short. "I will see if I can find a governess to fill your needs, my lord, but I make no promises."
    He rose also, and smiled at her with such charm she almost staggered under the influence. And she didn't even like him!
    "Try," he suggested. "I'm not in the position to help you gain respectability—quite the opposite, I'm afraid. But the money will help buy you time until you have established credibility on your own. Which"—he cocked his head and examined her from head to toe—"you will do. You have the air of someone who succeeds at whatever she sets her hand at."
    "Thank you, my lord." Would that that had always been true. "I will inform you of my progress soon."
    "By next Tuesday," he said. That gave her a week. "I'll expect a governess to present herself on my doorstep."
    She nodded. He strode out the door. Pamela had faded into the shadows of the entry to avoid meeting him, and as he left he looked neither left nor right.
    Hannah stood behind the desk, and Pamela stood behind the stairway until Cusheon had closed the front door on Lord Kerrich.
    Then they paced forward, meeting in the entry like armed adversaries.
    "What do you mean by telling him you made no promises?" Pamela asked. "I'll do it!"
    "Your love of money will get you in trouble yet, Pam! You can't mean to go through with his scheme. Lord Kerrich proposes a despicable plot to convince Her Majesty of his decency when he obviously has none."
    "In my youth… I had occasion to make Her Majesty's acquaintance."
    Hannah gaped. Hannah knew Pamela's