14. Introduction

Chapter fourteen

Introduction

" D id you notice that governess?" Gyles asked his mother as they rode home from Kendall House in the carriage.

"Miss Lymington?"

"Yes." Gyles pursed his lips and stared up at the ceiling of the carriage. "She was very brave to travel so far with her charges without the protection of a gentleman." He did not think Penelope Trafford would have made it more than a mile on her own—the lions they had seen at the royal menagerie several weeks ago had almost undone her and the balloon ascension had proved too much for her to even observe. His lip curled into a smile imagining how Miss Trafford would have handled an insult from an unknown innkeeper. Certainly, she would not have had the presence of mind to immediately return to the carriage and seek other accommodations. But Miss Lymington was different—different, and yet familiar. Unbidden, the name Julia surfaced in his thoughts. Julia Lymington… .

"Indeed, she was," replied his mother, but she seemed distracted, as if her mind were still on some prior conversation with Lord Kendall rather than on the events they were discussing.

"Perhaps I shall be properly introduced to her tomorrow."

"Oh, perhaps you shall," echoed his mother. She was beginning to look very wan, and Gyles was not surprised to hear that her headache would not allow her to come down for dinner that evening.

The following day, Mrs. Audeley continued to plead illness and wished nothing more than to rest in her chamber. Gyles decided to visit Kendall House himself and examine how his Sweet-Scented China Rose was getting along. He had implemented the drainage techniques suggested by Sir Abraham, and the yellowness of the leaves and sepals was beginning to abate. It was very late in the season, however, and he began to have his doubts whether the rose bush would bloom this year.

While Gyles was at Kendall House, he saw no harm in stopping inside to greet the ladies. Little Milly was having a lesson at the pianoforte from her governess while the older sisters sat on the couch together exchanging confidences. Penny welcomed Gyles with her usual enthusiasm. "Just think, Mr. Audeley! We shall have to go to the menagerie and the other places all over again so that Ginny can see them too."

"Oh, is that so?" The idea of doing more sight-seeing with Penelope was enough to disconcert even the even-keeled Gyles. Fortunately, he found Ginny good-natured, agreeable, and more subdued than her elder sister. After a few minutes of conversation—in which he assured Ginny that Miss Trafford had been in no danger whatsoever during the balloon ascension—he asked to be introduced to their governess .

Penny's carefree attitude changed immediately, and her sparkling face fell into a sullen frown. "Mr. Audeley," she said, bringing Gyles forward to the pianoforte. "This is my sisters' governess, Miss Lymington."

Gyles gave a polite bow. Miss Lymington would barely look in his direction. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Audeley. You will pardon me, but I am engaged in instructing Milly right now."

Gyles scrutinised her for a few moments longer than was polite. Her honey-gold hair was pulled back into a severe bun and her dress was as drab as an English winter. But still, the luminosity of her countenance could not be hidden or the perfect proportions of her face and figure. He attempted to strike up a conversation. "Have you instructed many pupils before?"

"Yes," she said shortly, and then leaned forward to turn the pages for Milly. "Now, see here, Milly," she continued, ignoring Gyles' presence, "you must crescendo through this section, but keep a light hand on the keys…."

Penelope looped her arm through Gyles' and led him back to the sofa on the other side of the room. "She's always frigidly civil like that. I think even Uncle Bertie is a little afraid of her. He insisted on leaving for London not four weeks after he hired her."

"No doubt she feels the need to maintain her authority as a governess and create a sense of separation." Gyles could not imagine that the governess was more than a year or two older than the eldest Miss Trafford. He also could not imagine having Penelope as a pupil—or as anything else. She would drive a man to drink after four weeks spent in her company.

"No doubt," said Penelope in a giggling whisper, "but she's not a bit of fun. I can't think why Ginny and Milly are so attached to her."

"Ah, Gyles, how are you this afternoon?" asked Lord Kendall, slapping his gloves against his opposite hand as he entered the drawing room. His beaver was on his head, and he looked as if he were just about to go out.

"Excellent," said Gyles, politely, although he was feeling less than excellent at the moment since Miss Lymington refused to say three words to him.

"And Mrs. Audeley?"

Lord Kendall's eyes brightened as he asked the question.

"My mother is feeling poorly today. A case of the megrims, I'm afraid."

"Perhaps I ought to call on her?"

"She hasn't received anyone today other than her friend Mrs. Haverstall—and that was upstairs in her chambers since she wasn't feeling up to coming downstairs."

Lord Kendall's face grew grim. "The London air must not agree with her."

Gyles did not know what to say to that. His mother had always loved being in London. He remembered her wistful face whenever his place-bound father spoke disparagingly of the metropolis.

"Perhaps when she is recovered, you both would like to accompany us to Hatchard's."

"What is that?" asked Ginny.

"London's best bookstore," said Lord Kendall with an indulgent grin. "I shall buy each of you girls a book. But no Gothic novels," he admonished Penelope with mock severity. And then, with a lighter tone, he looked over to the piano. "And that rule stands for you too, Miss Lymington. "

"I'm sure such a rule is unnecessary in my case," said Miss Lymington evenly, and Gyles could tell she was exercising a good deal of control not to repay Lord Kendall's gibe in kind.

No, Miss Lymington was not the type to read Gothic literature. But somehow, Gyles suspected, if she found herself in the improbable situations of Mrs. Radcliffe, she would be quite successful in finding her way out of them without resorting to Drury Lane theatrics.