The Ungrateful Governness

him. And I think it highly unlikely anyway that he will renew his offer.'

'Of course he will renew his offer,' the marquess barked. 'He already has my permission to do so, Jessica. We have already agreed on a marriage settlement.'

'Oh!' Jessica moved toward him, her hands still on her hips, her eyes blazing. 'So I have become an object of barter between you and Lord Rutherford, have I? Not at all a person with feelings and opinions to be consulted. Merchandise merely. If you have offered a large dowry, Grandpapa, you are remarkably foolish. The Earl of Rutherford would have paid you to get me into his bed. He offered twice, you know. Did he tell you that?'

'He thought you a servant,' the marquess said. 'Of course he told me. All the more reason why you must accept him. And enough of this nonsense, Jessica. I will hear no more on the matter. This time, my girl, we will have your future all tied up right and tight. You have had your flight of rebellion. Time now to settle down.'

'Do you know?' Jessica said. She had turned away from him and crossed the room to the window, where she stood drumming her fingers on the windowsill. 'I thought things were different this time. I really thought you had grown to love me. I thought I mattered to you as a person.'

'Tush, girl!' her grandfather said impatiently. 'Since when does a grandfather's concern to marry his girl well and secure her future and her reputation show lack of love? Of course I love you, girl. Would I be here otherwise?'

'Then don't,' she said, turning back to him to reveal eyes brimming with tears. 'Don't do this to me, Grandpapa. Please. I have been of age for several years and have the right to make my own choice of a future. I hoped to spend some of that future with you. I have even planned to allow you to order my life and find a husband for me if you wish. But not the Earl of Rutherford. Please, anyone but him. I cannot agree to it. Yet I don't want to quarrel with you. I need your love so much, Grandpapa. Please!'

'There,' he blustered, patting the arm of the chair beside him. 'Come back here, girl, and stop your silliness. Of course I love you. Always have. There have been three women very precious to my life, Jessica, and you are the only one left. Now don't go trying my patience when I am tired and irritable after a busy morning. Have you ever heard such a whooping and screeching of children in all your life?'

Jessica laughed. 'You loved every moment of it, Grandpapa,' she said, 'especially when that tiny tot climbed into your lap and demanded that you read a story from her new book.'

'The one with the hair bow as large as her head?' He chuckled. 'She reminded me of you, Jessica. When your Mama brought you to visit when you could scarcely walk and had scarcely any hair, you had two scarlet bows, one on each side of your bald head. I never did find out what held them there.'

They both laughed, and Jessica laid her cheek against the top of his head.

'Let me help you to your bedchamber, Grandpapa,' she said. 'You really should have a sleep. Oh, I know you are not old enough yet to give in to afternoon naps. But Christmas is a busy time, you see, and I am going to tiptoe along to my room and have a sleep too. I shall just have to hope that no one shames me by finding out. You will not tell, will you? If you do, you know, I shall tell on you.'

'You're a good girl, Jessica,' he said, pulling himself to his feet and leaning on her arm. 'Stubborn and chuckleheaded as they come, but a good girl. All you need is a gentleman of strong character to settle you down.'

'Well,' she said, squeezing his hand, 'let us agree not to pursue that topic any further for the time being, shall we, Grandpapa?'

13

The Earl of Rutherford was not eager to see the end of Christmas Day, but inevitably it came. It had been a day teeming with activity: opening gifts and holding a party for the servants in the morning; skating with most of the children and some of the more energetic adults in the afternoon; playing billiards and cards with the men while the ladies rested before dinner; romping at children's games in the evening until their bedtime; playing a high- spirited game of charades for the rest of the evening. It had been the usual Christmas Day. The only part that ever varied was the skating. The weather was not always kind enough to permit it.

He always enjoyed the day. One grumbled, of course, assuring one's parents each autumn that really one had far better activities with which to fill the festive season. But inevitably one came, not because one was necessarily weak-willed or because one did not have anything else to do, but because Christmas simply would not be Christmas if one were anywhere else or engaged in any other activities. On what other day of the year would one join in a spirited game of blindman's buff with hosts of giggling children and very young adults, completely oblivious of one's dignity, and actually enjoy oneself?

Yet it was not just the sheer exuberant enjoyment of the day that made him sorry to see it at an end, Lord Rutherford thought, unconsciously moving closer to the fire in his dressing room as he pulled off his shirt. It was that tomorrow he must act. He must do something about Jess.

He wanted to, of course. He was very eager to offer for her again, arrange for an early marriage, and begin to live out the blissful remainder of his life with her. In some ways the delay of the past two days had been torture. Yet in another way he had welcomed the excuse of Christmas to hold back and postpone the inevitable moment. She was not going to take kindly to his proposal. He just had a very strong intuition that she would not.

He had not spent a great deal of time in her company. Quite deliberately he had kept apart from her most of the time. He did not wish to invite any quarrel between them, and he did not wish her to feel that she was being pursued so closely by him that she could not relax and enjoy the season and the recent arrival of her grandfather.

So apart from that one spell on the ice, when he had not been able to resist rushing to her assistance after she fell, he had contented himself with watching from afar. He had denied himself the pleasure of taking her in to meals, and this evening he had resisted the temptation to let her catch him at blindman's buff.

But he had enjoyed watching her. She seemed to enjoy the company of all his family, especially Hope, who was making something of a fool of herself trying to throw Godfrey and Jess together. Fortunately, he could see quite clearly that those two felt no dangerous attraction for each other. He might have been ready to do murder otherwise. But Hope clearly could not see it. Anyone would have thought that by her age she would have realized that she had no talent whatsoever at matchmaking. She had even scolded him for taking Jess away from Godfrey out on the ice. It was far more likely that Godfrey was interested in her than in Jess. They certainly spent a great deal of time in company together.

Interestingly enough, too, he had heard from a cousin since arriving at Hendon Park that Godfrey had put an end to that long-standing affair of his. Had he shed the mistress in preparation for taking a wife? Godfrey himself had said nothing about the matter in the past few days. That in itself might be significant.

Well, tomorrow, Rutherford thought, he would pay his addresses to Miss Jessica Moore. She would not refuse him, surely. It was merely his extreme eagerness to marry her that made him nervous. She had no reason to refuse him. Indeed, the Marquess of Heddingly must have already pointed out to her the utter necessity of accepting him. She really had no choice at all. Even if she detested him, she must marry him. And she did not detest him. He even had good reason to believe that he could teach her to love him.

There had been that short spell on the ice, for example. The pull of attraction between them had been almost suffocatingly strong. He could not have felt it so powerfully while she felt nothing. He knew she had not felt nothing. When she had skated with him, she had been as incapable of looking away from him as he from her. Her eyes had been dreamy. She had been in a world of her own. No, that was wrong. They had been in a world of their own. Together. She could not have looked at him like that and felt nothing.

If he could only approach this meeting with her, then, with care, there was no reason at all why this time tomorrow night he should not be the happiest of men. He settled into bed and clasped his hands behind his head. He would announce their betrothal at dinner tomorrow night before any members of the family started to disperse to their own homes. Rather, he would have his father make the announcement. They would marry in the spring, during the Season, when London was crowded with fashionable people. He wanted to show Jess off to all the world. The thought surprised him rather. He would have expected that once he did decide to marry, he would dread a large and very public wedding.

How should he approach tomorrow's meeting, though? With confidence? Yes, he decided, but he must be