The Mistress of Trevelyan Page 9

  Finding myself alone and unable to resist, I paused a moment in the entry hall and drank in the window’s glorious display. I held my reddened, wash-worn hands out and spun around, watching the colors paint them and the boys’ study papers I held with a beauty no woman would be ashamed to show. When I came to a stop, Benedict Trevelyan stood before me.

  “Might these be for me, Miss Lovell?” He lifted an eyebrow. The movement sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with cool temperatures. Nevertheless, I drew a steadying breath, straightened my shoulders, and set my mind upon the purpose of our meeting.

  “Yes,” I said, extending my hand to him. Within the intimacy of the colored light, the distance between us seemed to shrink to mere inches, and the dancing colors covered his broad chest. He’d removed his coat, ascot and vest, leaving only his white ruffled shirt to cling to the contours of his imposing frame.

  My word, I thought I’d never be tempted to launder another man’s clothes in my life, but somehow my fingers itched to touch what had lain against him, even if it were under the guise of laundering.

  As he took the papers, his fingers brushed mine. I lifted my gaze to his. Within his dark eyes, I saw a spark of the look we’d exchanged in the park. That moment would most likely burn forever in my mind, but his presence now fanned the memory of it to a scorching flame of such heat that it shocked me back to reality. Fairy queen indeed! I had to have completely taken leave of my senses.

  It suddenly seemed of great import that I reach the oppressiveness of his study. I jerked my gaze from his and marched that way. “We have much to discuss since you last asked me my impressions of Masters Justin and Robert. I have been able to formulate a deeper assessment of their needs since then.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” he said, his voice not far behind me.

  Once inside his study, a sense of balance settled over my nerves. I sat in the chair before his massive desk, purposely avoided looking at him, and hurried on with what I felt was necessary to say. If he intended to dismiss me, then I’d at least have the comfort of speaking my mind.“I realize that a picnic in the park may not fit any conventional methods of teaching academics, but there are things in a child’s development that are just as important as learning facts.”

  “I assume you are about to inform me of those things.” He tossed the boys’ papers on his desk. Disturbingly enough, he didn’t sit down, and I was forced to twist around to see where he went.

  Moving behind me, he walked to the curtained window and slid back the heavy green velvet drape to peer outside. My planned speech flew from my mind as a shaft of summer-bright sun pierced the gloom. The dark wood tones around me suddenly gleamed with light and warmth, mirroring what the heat of desire did to his dark eyes. Would the rest of Trevelyan Manor come to such life under the brightness of sunshine?

  Thankfully, he dropped the curtain closed, and I dismissed my fancifulness.

  “You were saying, Miss Lovell?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes, about Masters Justin and Robert. They are quite frankly starving for certain things.” Unable to continue to sit and twist around to look him, I stood.

  My words had brought a deep frown of displeasure to his brow. I plunged ahead before he could respond, pacing as I spoke.“Like the tiny acorns of the towering oaks, they need the warmth of sunshine and the richness of the earth to grow strong and tall. Master Robert is so young and eager to be loved. He needs some of the sunshine of life—fun and laughter, encouraging words and tender touches to free his mind from worry. How can he concentrate on learning if he sees nothing but heavy clouds on his horizon? And Master Justin doesn’t believe there is any sunshine to be had. I think that—”

  “Miss Lovell,” he said sharply, cutting through my speech. I stopped pacing and stared at him.“My sons are not plants, nor are they poetry in need of flowery descriptions. What is the practical point to your”—he waved his hand as if swatting away an irritating bug—“allegorical lecture?”

  I opened my mouth, shut it, then opened it again. “My point?”

  “Exactly.”

  Squaring my shoulders, I drew a bolstering breath. He’d invited my directness and, in a roundabout way, my opinion when he asked for my assessment of the boys two weeks ago. Justin and Robert coveted their father’s approval, and in my opinion, his relationship with them went right to the heart of the matter. “You may dismiss me for my impertinence and my honesty, but you give your sons stern discipline. Might I suggest you offer an encouraging word to temper that discipline?”

  I expected to hear the sharp edge of his tongue rebuking me for even thinking of questioning him. Instead, he stared at me, fisting his hands. A dark emotion flooded the room as his eyes became blacker. I knew not if it was mere anger rushing through him or something more frighteningly elemental than that.

  I took a step back from him. When I did, surprise flitted across his face before I thought I saw something akin to despair in his eyes. But he turned quickly away from me, and I wondered if I hadn’t imagined the look—imagined it because of my own yearning for a crack in his harshness.

  He kept his back to me as he poured himself a drink from a decanter on a small table not far from a hearth so clean and devoid of wood or utensils that I didn’t think a fire had ever been lit there.

  “On my desk you will find two weeks’ wages.”

  Nausea and a wrenching pain inside me almost brought me to my knees. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t expected such an outcome, but the reality of it was more brutal than I had imagined. Turning so he wouldn’t see the tears gathering in my eyes, I walked toward his desk. My knees trembled greatly, my heart more so.

  Most of me wanted to leave without the money upon the desk; but I’d known too much of hunger in my life to let pride rule me. I would need funds to survive until I secured another respectable position—a daunting task for a woman alone in the West. The money felt crisply cold in my palm, and I found I could not leave without saying one more thing. “Please, in securing a tutor for Masters Justin and Robert, look for a teacher who knows kindness as well as academics.”

  “Miss Lovell! Are you leaving my employment?”

  The sharpness in his voice forced me to face him. I blinked away the tears in my eyes to bring his face into focus. Perhaps I had been mistaken in what I thought to be anger in him before, because the room crackled with the force of it now.

  I gulped in air before I could speak.“Is that not what this meeting is about? Did you not just dismiss me?”

  “I see my estimation of your amazing imagination earlier was an understatement. If I no longer have use for your services, I assure you, Miss Lovell, that you will hear those words directly from my lips. I merely thought that, given your circumstances, rather than waiting for the month’s end, you would have use for an allotment of your wages.”

  I blinked.“My circumstances?”

  “To be blunt, I have noticed you’ve only two dresses and thought maybe…”

  I blinked again. “Are you instructing me to purchase a dress?”

  “Ironically enough, that would seem to be the situation. If you are going to be escorting my sons about, it is within keeping of the Trevelyan image that a certain manner of dress be adhered to. I have spoken with Mrs. Talbot, the owner of Talbot’s Fashion Emporium, a dressmaker shop off Hyde Street. She has had the misfortune of being left with several dresses she made for a schoolteacher who ran back East after only a month in the West. I will, of course, cover the expense of the dresses, but thought there might be other things you would wish to purchase.”

  I was speechless for a few moments as we stared at each other. I knew not what mortified me more—that Benedict Trevelyan found me lacking, or that he’d spoken of my need to another.“I couldn’t possibly accept—”

  “I provide uniforms for all of the household staff. I consider this to be the same. And I suggest you select clothing in sunnier colors than gray or brown. I am sure Justin and Robert will appreciate that.�
�� He lifted his brows and inclined his head, giving added meaning to his words as he used my own reasoning to further his point.

  The flood of my embarrassment ebbed a little. He’d only given me as honest an opinion of a situation as I’d given him. I lifted my chin, determined to say more about his dealings with Justin and Robert. “Might I also offer a suggestion?”

  His lips curved to a wry angle. “I doubt you will comment upon your dress, so I assume this is in regard to my sons?” He waved his arm. “Please, do not feel the need to hold your tongue at this point, Miss Lovell.”

  “I will be instructing Master Justin in the game of chess. It’s my opinion that maneuvering the pieces and learning the strategy of the game will give him a sense of control over at least some things, so he does not feel completely at the mercy of life’s whims. If you were to play with him on occasion, encourage him, the insecurity he feels may lessen. As for Master Robert, I think both he and Master Justin will benefit from weekly outings. There are a great many things to learn in our city. Should you be available on occasion, accompanying us might afford you the opportunity to have a few moments of fun with them. If you disapprove of this as part of their instruction, I will be glad to schedule these outings on Saturday.”

  “You do recall that Saturday is your day off.”

  “I am aware of that.”

  “Yet last Saturday I am told you spent the day with Justin and Robert, nor did you leave the house on Sunday.”

  “We were unable to finish our planting project Friday, and I felt it necessary to complete the task on Saturday.” I’d decided to stay here and work on lessons after that, for I’d not the funds to do anything in town. Suddenly the money in my hand gained even more significance, and I met Benedict Trevelyan’s gaze across the room, my eyes widening with understanding.

  He cleared his throat and turned from me. “Outings on Saturday will not be necessary. You may inform me of your plans, and we shall see about them and my involvement. Is there anything else, Miss Lovell?”

  Though I could think of several other things, I’d said more than enough for now.“No.”

  “Amazing.” He glanced back at me. “I expect I shall see you at dinner tonight, then. And one more thing—don’t let your projects carry over to your days off other than occasionally. I expect you to manage your time more efficiently.” This time he turned with a dismissing finality, and I left his study, feeling the need to tread quickly through the dancing lights in the entry hall, lest he find me lingering there again, mismanaging my time.

  Humph. The man seemed impossible to please.

  I arrived for dinner early, wearing my brown dress, but this time I didn’t bother to adorn it with the black lace, having realized that my efforts had only drawn attention to the meagerness of my belongings. Or perhaps after two weeks I had less of a need for pretense than before. Walking into the parlor, I came to a sudden stop. Upon the brocade settee sat a young lady dressed in white. She could very well be the mysterious woman who’d made those ghostly appearances. Her skin was incredibly fair, almost as white as the china that graced the table. Her hair, as dark as a moonless night, was pulled into a severe bun, so tightly wound it was difficult to discern its length. Her hands were as white and delicate as a dove’s wing, and flowed just as gracefully as she sewed.

  Now that I was pressed to recall specifics, I realized that both times I’d seen my mysterious ghost woman at a distance, and her features had been less than clear. It was disturbing to realize that I might be in need of spectacles. I cleared my throat, hoping to draw her attention away from the embroidery she intently worked upon. She didn’t stop, didn’t look up, and didn’t offer any greeting.

  Before I could decide what to do in the face of her seeming rudeness, Stephen Trevelyan breezed into the room. He came to an abrupt stop when he saw the woman. Emotion so intense that I’d have been hard-pressed to give it any other name but pain settled on his face.

  “Excuse me for a minute, Miss Ann,” he said, handing me an elaborately wrapped package. To my surprise, he crossed the room and knelt at the woman’s feet. She stopped sewing then and looked up. Deep trouble marred the perfection of a face that took my breath away. Her eyes were the color of antique gold, and the delicacy of her features made me think that any disturbance would shatter them. It was as if she were the finest life-size porcelain doll.

  Stephen Trevelyan didn’t say a word. All he did was bow his head, placing his forehead upon her lap. Moved, the woman started to touch him, hesitated, and then placed her hand lovingly upon his head.

  His shoulders relaxed at her touch, as if he’d been holding his breath and had finally exhaled.

  “Touching, is it not? The act of absolution. It would seem my sister has forgiven her fallen knight,” Benedict Trevelyan whispered in my ear, sending such a shock of pleasure to my toes that I had to strain to hear the rest of his words over the roaring of blood that made me light-headed. The man had a strange effect upon my senses.

  Forgiveness? For what? “Absolution” seemed a strong word for him to have chosen for a mere estrangement between siblings. Seeing Katherine Trevelyan, of whom many dark things were whispered, was as disconcerting as meeting Benedict Trevelyan himself.

  I turned abruptly to find him but inches away. My breath caught, and our gazes met. He searched my face for answers that I did not know the questions to. Perhaps he was remembering our encounter in the park. I sensed a change between us. The words we’d exchanged in his study, rather than creating distance, had formed an odd bond.

  His gaze dropped to my lips, and I swallowed, wondering how, with so little a movement, he could change the world about me, the direction of my thoughts, and the very beat of my heart.

  He must have heard a noise that I didn’t, because before I could blink, he stepped away and whipped around to greet Constance Ortega. She flitted into the room wearing a sapphire blue gown that shimmered with stars and matched the huge blue jewels encircling her neck and dangling from her ears. I wondered if important company was expected and felt an unaccustomed flutter of panic in my breast at the notion.

  I’d resigned myself to being a guest at the Trevelyans’ table despite my station as an employee. The West was wont to flout Eastern protocols, though it coveted its luxuries, and finding a personage of learning but of meager means as a guest at the table of the rich was not beyond belief. But I had no wish to meet the Trevelyans’ equals and put that supposition to the test publicly.

  Meeting the disapproving gaze of Benedict Trevelyan’s mother was difficult enough. I’d attempted several times during Benedict Trevelayn’s absence this past week to dine in my room, but both Dobbs and Stephen Trevelyan had insisted otherwise.

  “You are looking especially turned out tonight, Constance. The Ortega sapphires are as opulent as ever,” Benedict Trevelyan said.“Is this a special occasion?”

  Constance Ortega gave him a broad smile. “This dress arrived from New York today. I just simply had to wear it. Is it not divine?” She pirouetted daintily.

  “Quite nice,” he added.“Alan will think you have dressed so elegantly just for him.”

  Alan? I wondered. Was company expected? Then I remembered Benedict mentioning his business partner before.

  Constance scoffed, “That man. He thinks everything is just for him. He will be joining us for dinner, yes? And did you sell the Commodore?”

  “Yes, I sold the Commodore. Business is fine, so there’s no need for you to worry. I believe Alan will be staying tonight, at least. Though I do not know if he will be returning directly back to Kansas City or not.”

  “Splendid.” Constance Ortega said. “He can tell me all the latest news.”

  “Which you will undoubtedly wrangle toward fashion, costing Benedict more money. It is a wonder he allows me to visit.” We all turned to the expensively dressed speaker standing in the doorway. He was a handsome man, slight of frame, much older and much shorter than I expected. The top of his head reached the bridge
of my nose. Still, when he walked into the room, he filled it with an Old World gentlemanly flair that made him appear much bigger.“Might I say you ladies look beautiful tonight.”

  Constance raised her eyebrows, giving my dress a dismissive glance before she smiled and held out her hand to the man.“You may, but only if you will sit next to me at dinner.”

  “It will be my pleasure,” he replied, bowing and kissing her hand as if she were a queen. He stood, then looked my way and cleared his throat.

  Benedict stepped up. “I apologize, Alan. Let me introduce you to Miss Lovell, Justin and Robert’s new governess. Miss Lovell, Mr. Henderson, a family friend and business partner of my father’s until he sold out, moved to Kansas City, and struck gold in cattle.”

  “The governess?” Mr. Henderson’s brows shot up in what I thought to be disapproving surprise, then he made an attempt to hide his hesitation. “Ah, yes, the governess. A pleasure, Miss Lovell.” Mr. Henderson held out his hand, and I again had no choice but to place mine in his. He bowed before me just as he had before Constance, but his gesture made me feel more uncomfortable rather than more accepted.

  “Thank you, Mr. Henderson. It is a pleasure to meet you as well.”

  Mr. Henderson released my hand. Then he directed an admonishing gaze toward Benedict Trevelyan. “ ‘Efficient’ and ‘practical’ nowhere near describes Miss Lovell’s queenly stature. Not what I would expect in a governess.”

  My cheeks flushed. I didn’t know if I was more embarrassed by Benedict’s description of me—though it was how I saw myself—or by Mr. Henderson’s prevarication. Queenly stature indeed. Before I could decide how to respond, Constance Ortega interrupted.

  “Why, Miss Lovell, what is that absolutely divine package you have?”

  I glanced down, seeing that I still held the box Stephen had given me. I’d forgotten it in my embarrassment. “It is Mr. Trevelyan’s,” I said.