Free The Duke in Disguise by Gayle Callen Page A

Stephen will be attending," Richard continued. "There will be a separate party for the children, and I need you to watch over him. If you have nothing appropriate to wear, I'm sure Mrs. Theobald— "

"I can find something, Your Grace. I will not embarrass you."

She folded her lips together primly, and he knew she was offended.

"I would not be embarrassed if you attended dressed as you are."

She gave him a disbelieving stare, then said, "But of course. I'm the governess."

"You misunderstand me quite deliberately once again, Miss Shelby. I simply meant that your handsome looks make any gown passable."

He wasn't giving her too much of a compliment, not really. But the faintest blush rose up her neck and overtook her cheeks.

That was the response he wanted.

"Now that that's settled," he said, "let us go visit the huntsman."

Stephen jumped to his feet. "The huntsman? Will you hunt a fox today, Father? I could go with you. My riding is no longer so dreadful."

"And who claims you're a dreadful rider?" Richard asked.

"Why, you, Father."

If Stephen had kicked him, it couldn't have hurt more. What kind of a fool was Cecil? Miss Shelby pointedly looked off to a distant corner of the garden, as if leaving Richard to sink or swim alone.

"Then I did not make my meaning clear, Stephen," he said, trying not to sound too gentle. "I meant you were having a dreadful time that particular day, and we all have those."

"Oh," Stephen said brightly.

"But we're not riding today. Victoria and Albert have become quite willful of late, and some training is in order. Would you like to work with the huntsman to train them?"

Stephen's answer was plain. He called the dogs by name and began to run toward the kennel, situated back behind the stables.

"You'll still accompany us, Miss Shelby?" Richard asked.

"If you don't mind, Your Grace, I have changed my mind. I have letters I should write."

"To your sisters?" he said, wondering what he'd done to drive her away.

"And my mother."

"Then go ahead."

She left him standing in the garden, and he watched the sway of her hips, and the disciplined way she held her shoulders before she disappeared past the fountain. Did she carry herself differently when she was free from the worry of finances? And however did such a lovely woman not have dozens of men clamoring to marry her, even without a dowry? He was tempted to have someone investigate further, but he chastised himself. He was not here to pursue a governess; he was here to see to his nephew's safety. His priorities back in place, he followed Stephen toward the kennel.

Yet his mind betrayed him by imagining Miss Shelby at the assembly. Even though she would be taking care of Stephen, there would be men there who would want to dance with her.

But he couldn't.

    Chapter 7
    T wo days later, Meriel used her free time during the afternoon to lay out her evening clothes for the assembly that night. The sedate gown of deep purple, with a respectable neckline, had been crushed during the move, and she hadn't bothered to have it ironed.

To prevent more unrest, Meriel was trying to keep quiet the news that she was attending, so she could hardly ask Beatrice or Clover to take the gown to the laundry. She would just have to ask the laundress herself. Surely the woman would not refuse her request.

It was a several minutes' journey back to the servants' wing of the house, where the corridors were narrower and darker. She passed the occasional footman or scullery girl, but no one questioned her. She had to cross the entrance to the servants' hall on her way, and she held her breath, hoping that luncheon was long finished.

A woman's voice called, "Miss Shelby?"

Meriel closed her eyes and came to a stop. It was not Mrs. Theobald. She turned about and looked into the hall.

There were several long tables with benches on either side. The ceiling rose high above, and on either end were massive hearths that would fit in as well with the decor in her own