Seducing the Governess by Margo Maguire Read Free Book Online Page A

not want to ask Mr. Lowell while Emmaline was present. She had very little knowledge of Emmaline’s parents—only that the girl had been orphaned and left in the care of her beguiling but oblivious uncle and his men. She needed more information.
    Glancing about the classroom, Mercy found it clean, with everything neat and orderly. Far more neat and orderly than Emmaline herself. The child wore a pair of hose that might have been white at one time, but were gray and dingy, and stained. Her pale blue gown was soiled at the bodice and cuffs, as though no one in this house had ever heard of a laundry tub. Mercy was going to have to see about acquiring a nurse for Emmaline, for there was far more to do for the young girl than just academic instruction.
    She turned to Mr. Lowell. “Thank you for escorting us here, sir. I believe we’ll manage just fine on our own now.”
    “Are you sure, Miss Franklin?” he asked, seeming inclined to linger. “It seems so very . . . abrupt.”
    “Yes, we’ll be fine. Thank you, Mr. Lowell.” She turned the tables and escorted him back to the door, shutting it after him. Then she returned her attention to her young charge.
    “Well,” she said, silently vowing to do something about Emmaline’s appearance in spite of the absence of a nurse. The Franklins had not been wealthy people. Mercy had done plenty of sewing, and had helped with the daily housework. She’d assisted with the laundry hundreds of times, and knew what needed to be done to improve Emmaline’s wardrobe. “This is an excellent room for our lessons. Where do you sleep?”
    Emmaline pointed to an adjoining door, and Mercy went to it. She pushed it open and saw that the room beyond was completely tidy, appearing almost as though no one occupied it, certainly not a little girl. There was an abandoned little dressing table, and Emmaline’s narrow bed had been made up tightly and had a plain brown blanket folded neatly across its foot. Opposite the bed was a low bookcase that stood against the wall. It contained a perfectly even row of books, meticulously arranged from tallest to shortest, including a number of volumes Mercy had not been allowed to read as a youngster. Several dolls were lined up on top of the shelf, evenly spaced and sitting at attention.
    But for the beautiful framed watercolors hanging on the walls, the room seemed a far too sterile, too barren environment for a little girl. Even Mercy’s bedchamber in her parents’ austere home had displayed more embellishments than this room. Mercy could not imagine what Lord Ashby had been thinking in assigning his men to the care of his niece.
    Nor did she know quite where to begin with the little girl who stood so still and quiet. Surely such reserve was not natural.
    “Does your uncle call you Emmaline?” Mercy asked.
    The little girl looked up at Mercy as if she’d grown wings and was about to fly away.
    “What about your parents? Did they always call you Emmaline?”
    “My papa called me Emmy.”
    “Would you mind very much if I called you Emmy?”
    Her rigid stance seemed to melt a little and she nodded.
    “You have a great number of books, Emmy,” Mercy said in an attempt to further engage her.
    Emmaline nodded.
    “Do you have a favorite?”
    Emmaline knelt down and picked out a large book with sturdy covers that appeared to have been made by hand. She handed it carefully to Mercy, who knelt beside her to look at the book.
    “This is beautiful,” she said as she turned the pages, admiring the delightfully detailed watercolors and the stories written in a clear but fanciful script on the pages opposite the pictures. She turned to the first leaf and saw an inscription that warmed her heart.
    “For my darling Emmy ∼ May there always be magic in your life. From your most devoted Mother.”
    Mercy guessed Emmaline’s mother had painted the pictures in the book as well as those on the walls. “ ’Tis lovely, Emmy. I can see why it’s your