The Game and the Governess by Kate Noble Read Free Book Online Page B

could end quickly.
    Granted, the fun would be over before it could even begin, but it would be foolish not to try.
    Every head in the drive turned to look at Ned. He smiled broadly, but not a single person smiled back at him. Turner’s gaze was rightly hard and suspicious, butjudging by Lady Widcoate’s expression, Ned had just committed a veritable crime of some kind.
    “Lady Widcoate,” Turner’s voice a warning, “this is my man, Mr. Turner.”
    “Yes,” Lady Widcoate returned with clipped politeness, as Ned bent into a flourishing bow.
    “I find I could not do without him—here on business, after all.” Turner smiled—and Ned was sure he detected notes of obsequiousness in Turner’s speech.
    That devil. He was sucking up to the Widcoates! Hoping they would not call him out on his complete lack of resemblance to the Ashby line.
    Obviously.
    “Of course.” Lady Widcoate put the adoring smile back on her face. “But hopefully your visit to your old home will not be all business, my lord.”
    “How could it be with such a”—Turner swept a wide hand to the crowd of women around them—“ merry assembly as this?”
    “Yes, quite merry!” Ned tried again to interject himself into the conversation. He tried to move forward, but found he still had a hold on the mare’s reins, and she was more stubborn than Turner ever had been.
    Another dismissive glance from the assembled crowd kept him as firmly rooted in his place as the mare was.
    “Lord Ashby, may I introduce some, ah— friends visiting from Bath? This is Mrs. Rye, and her daughter, Miss Clara Rye. This is Miss Henrietta Benson, lately of Bath, and—”
    “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!” A young lady with the shoulders of an ox flew up, knocking into the brightred Miss Henrietta and the small and wide-eyed Miss Clara.
    “—and Miss Minnie Rye,” Lady Widcoate finished.
    “My niece,” the too-smiling Mrs. Rye interjected.
    “Where were you?” Miss Henrietta whispered.
    “I was so worried, you almost missed him!” Miss Clara’s little body shook as if freezing.
    “I had to change my gown, didn’t I? I can’t meet a bloody—erm, a blooming earl in a muddy dress, can I?” Minnie said, with a quick glance from her mother keeping her language in line.
    “Oh, no.” Henrietta whispered—her face flushing all the darker, taking in Minnie’s new dress. “You chose the wrong dress.”
    “What?” Minnie whipped her head around, pins raining out of her messy curls.
    “You wore pink. I’m wearing pink.” Clara’s voice was a shaky whisper. “We agreed, either we all wear different colors or the same, but now only you and I are wearing the same and Henrietta is left out! You’ll have to change.”
    “I can’t change—all the others are day dresses and muddy besides.”
    “Well, you’re the one who wanted to play bowls by the pond.” Henrietta puffed dramatically. “Oh, this is an absolute disaster!”
    “And you’re the one with the bad aim and I’m the only one not afraid of a little water to keep playing our game,” Minnie shot back.
    “It was your ball, not mine—and I’m not the one who only brought three dresses!”
    “Girls!” Mrs. Rye wailed through a tight smile. “Please!”
    “Bloody silly if you ask me,” Minnie sniffed. “Planning our wardrobe.”
    “Minnie!” Mrs. Rye shrieked. “Language!”
    As the girls veered dangerously toward melee territory, Ned kept his eyes on Turner. If it were he, he would have stepped in by now; would have paid compliments to every girl on their gowns, pink or otherwise. He would have defused the situation, and kept all the females fluttering happily. But Turner just looked as if he were a green private, about to take his first step on the battlefield.
    Ned was about to step in. He was about to save Turner and ingratiate himself to the young ladies—after all, they were all going to spend the coming fortnight falling in love with him—when a veritable goddess