~cov0001.jpg by Lisa Kleypas Read Free Book Online Page B

friendly replies.
    Slipping out to the hallway, Tasia came face to face with Mrs. Knaggs. The housekeeper seemed less forbidding than she had the night before. “Miss Billings, Emma is changing from her riding clothes. After breakfast she will be ready to begin her lessons at precisely eight o'clock.”
    “Does she ride every morning?” Tasia asked.
    “Yes, with Lord Stokehurst.”
    “They seem very fond of each other,” Tasia said.
    Mrs. Knaggs glanced around the hall to make certain they were not being overheard. “Lord Stokehurst dotes on the child. He would give his life for her. He very nearly did, once.”
    An image of the silver hook appeared in Tasia's mind. Unconsciously she touched her own left wrist. “Is that how—”
    “Oh, yes.” Mrs. Knaggs had noticed the gesture. “A fire in London. Lord Stokehurst went right into the house before anyone could stop him. Every inch of the place was blazing. The people who saw him go in there believed he would never be seen alive again. But he came out with his wife over his shoulder and the child in his arms.” The housekeeper tilted her head to the side, seeming to watch the movements of ghosts. “Lady Stokehurst didn't live to see the next morning. For days Lord Stokehurst was out of his head with grief, and pain from his wounds. The worst damage was done to the left arm—they say he pulled a burning wall apart with his bare hands to save his wife. The hand festered and poisoned his blood, till they had to choose between taking it off or letting him die. It was ironic, how kindly life had treated him until then, and to lose so much all at once…There's not many it wouldn't have broken. But the master is a strong man. Not long after it all happened, I asked if he would give Emma into the safekeeping of his sister, Lady Catherine. She would have taken the child for as long as necessary. ‘No,’ he said, ‘the baby's all I have left of Mary. I could never give her away, not even for a day.’” Mrs. Knaggs paused and shook her head.
    “I've let my mouth run away with me, haven't I? It hardly sets a good example for the others, to stand here with my tongue wagging.”
    There was an ache in Tasia's throat. It hardly seemed possible that the man Mrs. Knaggs had just described was the same cool, self-possessed aristocrat she had ridden with in the carriage yesterday. “Thank you for telling me about him,” she managed to say. “Emma is fortunate to have a father who loves her so much.”
    “I would say so.” Mrs. Knaggs stared at her curiously. “Miss Billings, if truth be known, you are not at all the kind of governess I expected His Lordship to hire. You're not from England, are you?”
    “No, ma'am.”
    “You're already the subject of speculation around here. No one at Southgate Hall has any secrets worth telling—and it's clear you have a great many.”
    Not knowing how to reply, Tasia shrugged and smiled.
    “Mrs. Plunkett is right,” the housekeeper mused. “She says there is something about you that invites people to talk. Maybe it's just that you're so quiet.”
    “It's not intentional, ma'am. I take after my father's side of the family. They're all quiet, and they tend to brood. My mother is very talkative and charming. I always wished to be more like her.”
    “You do well enough,” Mrs. Knaggs said with a smile. “I must be off now. Today is washday. There's no end of scrubbing, starching, and ironing to be done. Perhaps you would like to occupy yourself in the library or music room until Emma is ready.”
    “Yes, ma'am.”
    They parted company, and Tasia wandered through the mansion, searching for the music room. Her tour with Emma last night had been so brief, and she had been so tired, that she remembered nothing except the kitchen.
    Purely by chance she stumbled onto the music room. It was circular in shape, fitted with curving mullioned windows. The pale blue walls, stenciled with gold fleurs-de-lis, rose to a ceiling painted with