An Affair to Remember Page 9

  To her surprise, his lips twitched. “I can’t imagine you doing anything so tame.”

  “And I cannot imagine you being so foolish as to think child rearing can be confined to a nursery. Perhaps that has been the problem all along. It will take both of our best efforts if we are to improve the children’s behavior.”

  He regarded her for a long minute, his brow lowered. “You think we need to work together?”

  “If they hear the same thing from their governess as they do from their guardian, it will mean more. I will reinforce you and you will reinforce me; like generals in a war. It’s simple logic, Greyley.”

  “Governesses do not tell their employers what to do.”

  “And you’ve known so many good ones.”

  A glint of humor lit his brown eyes. “I’m rapidly beginning to believe there are no good governesses. Just bossy ones.”

  “Perhaps it is the same thing. We are agreed then?” She held her breath and waited.

  Finally, he nodded. “We will meet daily to discuss the children. And I will, of course, reinforce you whenever possible. But I will expect the same from you.”

  Relief flooded through her. “Thank you.” Well, that hadn’t been so difficult after all. Perhaps this position would be smoother than she’d—

  “Thraxton.” He pushed himself from the mantel and walked toward the door. “Come with me.”

  What was he doing now? Anna followed him out of the room and down the hallway, passing an impressive Flemish tapestry depicting an ancient war scene. They crossed the hall and went through two huge doors.

  Anna stopped in the doorway. It was the most gorgeous room she’d ever beheld. A long row of glass-paned doors that opened onto a perfectly groomed garden let in a swath of light, and sent a warm glow across the gleaming wood paneling and lines and lines of oak shelving. An intricate wrought-iron railing followed a set of steps to a second level walk that circled the room and held even more shelves.

  But it was the ceiling that made Anna’s jaw drop. A delicate mural had been painted on the plaster, depicting Truth and Virtue at war with Sloth and Ignorance. Soft blue and deep purple mingled with a sunshine yellow and a delicate orchid. The colors alone were worth seeing, but the fineness of the painting held her enthralled.

  Anna lowered her gaze to the earl where he stood watching her. “It’s lovely,” she said honestly.

  The hard lines of his face softened briefly. “This is the only room that’s been completed so far. One day, I hope the rest of the house will be as inspiring.”

  Anna let her gaze drift across the rest of the room. A heavy golden and red rug warmed the center of the chamber. The earl’s large mahogany desk took precedence in one corner while a hodgepodge of antique chairs was grouped about the fireplace. No two were the same, yet the combination was perfect.

  Best yet, the entire room brimmed with books—there wasn’t a single empty spot on any of the shelves. Anna walked slowly along the wall, her fingers lightly running over the leather bindings. After a moment, she stopped. “Byron?”

  The earl shrugged. “He is all the rage.”

  “You cannot like him,” Anna said, unable to picture the earl reading anything so romantic as Lord Byron.

  He glinted her a look, then said softly, “‘She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that’s best of dark and bright. Meets in her aspect and her eyes…’”

  The words rested in the silence, cupped by the warmth of the room, glowing in their simplicity. A slow tingle filled her heart and expanded, warming her chest, her shoulders, her arms. She found herself nodding. “Byron is one of my favorites as well.”

  The moment seemed unexpectedly intimate, as if they’d known each other for a very long time and had shared numerous confidences. It was an illusion, she knew. She and Greyley exchanged verbal barbs and not friendship.

  To break the hold of the silence, she turned back to the shelves. “Have you read every book here?”

  The earl leaned against the desk, his broad shoulders blocking the light from one of the windows. “Not yet. I’m a very deliberate reader, and I savor that which I enjoy most.” There was something about the earl’s voice that compelled one to listen. Low and melodious, he spoke each word as if he’d considered it, tasted it, and then found it fit to be used.

  Anna slanted him a glance and found that he was watching her. “I love to read. It’s one of the things I emphasize with my charges.”

  “If you can get them to do anything, then you will have done more than most of the other governesses I’ve hired.”

  “How many have there been?”

  He made a disgusted sound. “More than I can count.” He leaned across the wide desk and picked up a sheet of paper and then held it out.

  Anna reluctantly left the books and crossed the room to take the paper. She looked at it then wrinkled her nose. “Ah, the schedule.”

  “Divided into half-hour increments. I believe you will find everything accounted for—history, Latin, Greek, exercise—”

  “Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll need this.” She put it back in his hand. “I don’t use schedules.”

  His good humor melted. “Then how did you keep the children on task?”

  “I set very broad weekly goals. Nothing inflexible, of course. Then we establish our routine each morning and work from there.”

  The earl’s brow lowered. “Miss Thraxton, we agreed to work together. The schedule is very important.”

  “Yes, but expecting children to conform to a strict schedule is not very realistic.”

  “Why not? I set a schedule for my servants and I have found it very beneficial. They wash the floors on Tuesdays, the linens on Thursdays, and so on. It has made them much more productive.”

  “Yes, but these are children, Greyley. Not servants. Don’t you remember being a child?”

  Anna looked into Greyley’s face and saw her answer. He didn’t. He didn’t remember being a child. It was as if he’d never been allowed the luxury of playing, of experiencing the unfettered freedom of being young and not having a care in the world.

  But how could that be? Sara had told Anna of her own childhood, of escapades and pranks, of swimming in the pond and stealing one of her brother’s pocket knives to carve a rabbit out of an old oak stick. How could one of Sara’s own brothers not have had the same experiences? Perhaps it was time Anna wrote Sara another letter.

  In the meantime, she had to find a way to convince Greyley to let her establish the routine for the nursery. She was just grappling with this thorny problem when a soft knock heralded the entrance of the butler.

  Jenkins bowed. “My lord, Miss Thraxton’s room is ready.”

  Anna smiled brightly. “Wonderful! I would dearly love to rest before dinner.” She bustled to the door. “Thank you for your time, Lord Greyley. I truly enjoyed seeing your library.”

  The earl lifted a brow, no humor in his gaze. “Running away, Thraxton?”

  Anna managed a prim sniff. “I never run. I do, however, walk away from a conversation that promises to spark my temper.”

  Anthony almost grinned at her frank admission. He couldn’t help it—she was honest, which was as delightful as it was surprising. In all his dealing with the Elliots, not a one of them had tried that particular tactic. “Then walk away, Miss Thraxton. We will discuss the schedule sooner or later. There is no escaping it.”

  Her eyes silvered, humor lurking in the curve of her lush mouth. “We can discuss it after I’ve had something to eat.”

  Anthony glanced at Jenkins. “I believe Miss Thraxton is tired and hungry. Please see her to her room and have Mrs. Stibbons bring her a tray.”

  “I believe Mrs. Stibbons is already seeing to it.” Jenkins held the door open and bowed. “After you, miss.”

  Thraxton gave Anthony a very saucy curtsy and then she left, her skirts bristling as she went. She strode rather than walked, every step vibrating with energy. It was difficu
lt not to picture her trim legs or to ignore the way her gently curved hips swung to and fro beneath her skirts.

  The door closed and the latch clicked into place. Anthony shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head. God help him, but there were unforeseen difficulties in letting Thraxton into his house. She was even more stubborn than he’d thought and too damned attractive for her own good.

  Not that that was a completely negative thing. He was a man who appreciated feminine beauty. He just wished the woman wasn’t so argumentative. Anthony supposed he couldn’t complain; he’d won her willingness to serve as governess to his wards, though that had cost him plenty. Now all he had to do was clearly demark the lines between Thraxton the governess and Thraxton the busybody.

  To his chagrin, he remembered the twinkle in her eyes and a feeling lifted in his chest. It took him a moment to realize it was a chuckle…She was a handful, that one. And it had been a long time since anyone had been able to make him laugh.

  Chapter 8

  I miss Sir Phineas, the old curmudgeon. It’s a pity he had to go and get poor all of the sudden. Wonder if he’ll ever find a way to come about again?

  Viscount Evanstock to the Countess of Chesterfield, while sitting in the Chesterfield box at the theater

  “Looks like it belongs in a harem,” Grandpapa said, staring at the huge blue silk-draped bed in the center of the room. “But I like it.”

  Anna swallowed. This couldn’t be her room. Expensive blue wallpaper adorned the walls and thick rugs covered very inch of the polished floor, a perfect setting for the rich furnishings—a massive wardrobe stood to one side, beside it was an ornate dressing table, complete with a velvet covered seat. An assortment of crystal bottles and flagons decorated the marble top, catching the afternoon rays. But it was the bed that held one’s attention. Heavy blue draperies hung about the bed, tied back with extravagant red tassels. It was large enough, Anna was sure, for four or five people. Maybe six. “This must be a mistake.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Grandpapa said with a gleam of satisfaction. “Greyley knows you are a Thraxton.”

  “I am the governess.”

  “Today, perhaps. But tomorrow…” He shrugged, a secret smile touching his lips. “You never know.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll still be the governess.”

  “Hm.” His smile faded a bit as he considered her. “I don’t mean to say anything ill, but ah, are you going to wear that gown often?”

  “Perhaps. It is perfectly appropriate for my position.”

  “Yes,” he said gently. But not for your birth. It wouldn’t be wise to appear…common.”

  “Common? Grandpapa, I am a governess. I should dress as such.”

  “You are also a Thraxton. And you should remember it.”

  Anna frowned. What was he up to? “Grandpapa, are you—”

  “Do you hear that?” He limped toward the door. “I hear the clink of silver. Daresay they are bringing you a tray for lunch, just as they did me.”

  A knock sounded and Grandpapa swept open the door. Mrs. Stibbons bustled in followed by a thin, slight maid carrying a tray.

  The housekeeper frowned at Grandpapa. “Sir Phineas, what are you doing here? You should be resting.”

  “Yes, but I—”

  “You can’t rest wanderin’ about the house.” She took his arm and led him to the adjoining door. “Your room’s right through here. You’ve no business makin’ yourself ill. A nice nap’ll do wonders, it will.”

  A faint pout touched the corners of Grandpapa’s mouth. He shot a humorous look at Anna. “I am being forced to take a nap. Do you need me for anything, my dear?”

  “No. Go and rest. I’m going to eat my luncheon.”

  With a faint grin, he allowed the housekeeper to bustle him into his bed. Anna listened to his faint protestations and could tell he was enjoying the attention, just as she was sure he was enjoying their well-appointed accommodations.

  She glanced around the room, admitting that she loved blue silk almost as much as she loved a well-stuffed mattress. It would be selfish to demand to be placed in a less ostentatious room, as wherever she went, Grandpapa would follow, and he deserved a room like this.

  Anna glanced again at the huge bed and noted the mounds of pillows and the satiny smooth sheets, and her skin tingled at the thought of sleeping in such luxury. What was she thinking? She deserved a room like this. She smiled and patted a plump pillow back into place.

  Besides, Greyley had mentioned that there was some problem with the governess quarters, so it would be ill-bred to complain. And the Thraxtons were never rude. Well, not more than circumstances warranted.

  Mrs. Stibbons returned. “Lily, put the tray on that table by the window. I’m certain Miss Thraxton would like to see the gardens while she’s eating. We’ve some lovely roses this year.”

  The maid did as she was told, her hands trembling as she arranged the silver.

  “Now there’s no need to rattle everything,” Mrs. Stibbons scolded, though her words were softened with an encouraging smile. She glanced at Anna. “Lily’s new. Only been here a week now.”

  Anna smiled at the girl. “Lily is such a pretty name. I always wanted a flower name, though with my height, I daresay I would have been more appropriately named after a bean of some sort.”

  Lily giggled, her nervousness lessening.

  “Well done, Lily,” Mrs. Stibbons said, looking at the table. “Pour Miss Thraxton some tea and then be on your way.”

  Lily did as she was told, sending Anna a thankful smile. The maid quietly finished her duties then left, shutting the door behind her. As soon as they were alone, Mrs. Stibbons turned to Anna. “Thank you, miss. She’s a good child, but easily frightened.”

  “She seems very sweet natured.”

  “That’s her. And you’ve won her over already, I could see it. Not like that Lady Putney,” the housekeeper added darkly.

  “The children’s grandmother?”

  “Yes, and a meaner, more narrow person, I’ve yet to meet. She came to Greyley only to stir up trouble amongst the children, and so I’ve told His Lordship time and again.”

  “If she’s been such trouble, I’m surprised Greyley hasn’t sent her packing.”

  “He doesn’t dare; the children would be in an uproar. Even worse than they are now, which would suit Lady Putney just fine. She wants those children and she’s bound and determined to get them.”

  It seemed as if Mrs. Stibbons knew all there was to know about Greyley House and its occupants. “I wonder why the children are so badly behaved,” Anna mused aloud.

  “They’re not anywhere near as bad as they wish to be.” Mrs. Stibbons smoothed the coverlet on the huge bed and whisked away an imaginary dust mote. “They’re just a mite confused, the poor souls.”

  Anna smiled. “Did you get all of the frogs out of the master bedchamber?”

  “Indeed we did. They were very attracted to his neckcloths, they were. Must be the starch His Lordship’s valet uses.” Mrs. Stibbons made a disapproving face. “Don’t know why Ledbetter bothers with such. I’ve told him time and again that His Lordship doesn’t like his neckcloths so stiff, but he won’t listen to me.”

  “Form before fashion,” Anna murmured.

  “What?”

  Anna managed a rueful grin. “I’m sorry. I have a bad tendency to mumble. Tell me, what do the children hope to gain by playing such pranks? They must know they are only making Lord Greyley angry.”

  “They hope to so disgust His Lordship that he will send them off to live with Lady Putney.”

  Anna frowned. “Does Lady Putney encourage such behavior?”

  Mrs. Stibbons smoothed the edge of a curtain to a more sedate angle. “In my opinion, she’s the source behind most of their pranks. She has sway over them, she does. Brings them sweets every time she sees them. And toys, too. Anything to win them over.”

  “Bribery.”

  “Exactly. It’s what they’re used to. I heard
tell that their parents were very busy socially and left the children to be raised by a parcel of servants. They’ve used their knowledge of such to get rid of most of the governesses His Lordship has hired.”

  So the children were experts on governesses, were they? That was interesting information, indeed. “I daresay His Lordship’s gruff manners play very much against him.”

  “As much as I respect His Lordship, he can be a mite terse. Children don’t understand those things, miss. You know how it is.”

  Anna nodded thoughtfully. ’Tell me, Mrs. Stibbons. What is it that the children like to do most?”

  “Riding. They love their ponies, they do. And they’d be gone all day if His Lordship would allow it. But he only lets them ride on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. He’s quite particular about schedules.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Anna said dryly. “His Lordship and I disagree on that item. I dislike being held to a set of rules for no reason other than to create the impression of order, whether it exists or not.”

  Mrs. Stibbons looked doubtful. “That sounds very reasonable, miss. Just don’t expect His Lordship to like it.”

  “I don’t expect His Lordship to like it one bit. Fortunately he’s not in the nursery. The children are.”

  “He’s there more than you might think,” Mrs. Stibbons said.

  “In the nursery?”

  “His Lordship is very particular when it comes to his responsibilities. He visits the nursery quite frequently to see how the children are and how the new governess is getting on.” She pursed her lips. “Seems we’ve always got a new governess. I’ll be glad to see one stay longer than two weeks.”

  “Oh, I intend on being here for three months, at least,” Anna said smoothly. “Whether the children like it or not.”

  “I wish you luck,” Mrs. Stibbons said with a doubtful look. “You’ll be needin’ it if you are planning on ignoring His Lordship’s schedule.”

  Anna thought she’d need more than luck. She’d need every ounce of her persuasive abilities. Greyley was not a man who welcomed change and he was about to face quite a bit more than he realized.