Dangerous Decision

By Nina Coombs Pykare

Though Edwina Pierce knows about the curse on the castle family, she seeks the position of governess to the Earl of Holmden’s girls, because she has no alternative. When she discovers that their dead mother is calling to the girls and their father, she struggles to keep them safe. And if her efforts to protect Charles and the girls lead her to love him… Regency Romance by Nina Coombs Pykare; originally published by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

• Language: English
• Publisher: Belgrave House
• Release date: Apr 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781610846448

Book preview

Pykare

Chapter One

The old castle stood high on the wooded hill above the Dover cliffs. Deep purple clouds and the dark lowering sky gave warning of a coming thunderstorm. In fact, the rumble of thunder could already be heard in the distance.

Although the surrounding countryside showed the blossoms of summer, there was a certain air of brooding autumn around the castle on Holmden Hill. Its grim gray turrets, outlined against the gathering darkness of the storm, did not inspire confidence. Nor did the overgrown unattended quality of its front park and the deserted look of its dark windows give any indication of a happier atmosphere within its gray stone walls.

On the narrow winding road that led up to the castle, a road that appeared little used, full of holes and ruts, a small figure trudged bravely along. A brisk wind whipped the cloak around the slight young woman and threatened to tear away the aging straw bonnet anchored firmly beneath her chin by a faded scarf. The same wind teased her dark hair loose from the severe chignon that tried to confine it. But the wind had little or no effect on her otherwise. She paced steadily along, her arms swinging in rhythm with her determined stride, her chin set stubbornly.

Edwina Pierce smiled to herself. The wind had the salty smell of the sea about it. She’d lived all around the country, dragged from pillar to post by her father, but of all places she’d lived she loved best to be in sight and smell of the sea, so she could sneak away and swim in secret. That would have outraged Papa, a woman knowing how to swim, but then anything he didn’t like had outraged Papa.

Though the wind blew stronger and several dark clouds directly overhead looked as though they might loose their watery contents on her at any moment, Edwina kept up a steady pace toward the castle. If it rained, she told herself, she would just arrive at her destination wet. There was no help for it. Except for a few straggling trees behind the hedgerows, there was no place along the road to take shelter. Likely as not she’d be drenched even there.

She set her shoulders and trudged on. Life had taught her to endure, and anyway a summer soaking was a small thing in comparison to what she’d already undergone. The castle, at least, was a chance. Her only chance.

She had decided to go to the castle, to present herself before the earl and ask — no beg — for employment as governess to his children. It would not be the first time she’d been thrown on the mercy of strangers. Life with Papa had never been easy. By the time she’d reached marriageable age, he’d wasted all his resources on that grand obsession of his — acquiring the title of baron. He had nothing left with which to provide a daughter a dowry. If he’d ever given the matter of his daughter that much thought. Which he never had.

Still, she was four and twenty now, and she had overcome most of the feelings of bitterness that had overwhelmed her when she realized that she was doomed to spinsterhood — that Papa, for whom she had done everything she possibly could, had doomed her to such an empty life. But above all things she was practical — life had forced that practicality on her, perhaps, but it was useful — and eventually she had come to accept her fate. Eventually, after great effort, she no longer blamed Papa for her condition. Acquiring that title had become the whole reason for his life, had in effect become a terrible sickness, obscuring all else. Nothing but that title had mattered to him. Now that he was dead and gone it was futile to harbor resentment toward him.

As the castle drew ever nearer, she told herself to forget the past. She didn’t have time to worry about it. No matter what her feelings about her previous life, she still faced the difficulty of supporting herself now. There was nothing left of Papa’s land, what he’d had as a squire had been sold off to acquire funds. The land that went with the title was worth little. After his death, his creditors had taken everything that could be moved and soon, she expected, would take the house and land too. The servants had all departed unpaid, the larder was bare, and there was no money, not even enough to pay for coach fare to London.

After Mama’s death, Papa had been a man alone. He had few relations or friends, and those he did have he’d annoyed so much that they soon vowed to have little to do with him. Consequently, after his death, she was left with no one to turn to.

So, faced with starvation, she’d made up her mind to apply to the earl. Since the latest governess had just departed, in great haste so the villagers said, Edwina believed it likely that there would be no other applicants for the position. No young woman who knew the history of the castle would willingly go near it, the villagers said, and certainly not as a live-in servant. With the latest governess so newly departed, the earl had not yet had time to advertise the position in the London papers.

Edwina’s gaze went again to the castle’s grim turrets and, though she didn’t slacken her pace, she shivered a little inside her one and only cloak. Coming here could be a dangerous decision for her — for anyone. It was beneath one of those turrets, just two months ago, that the broken body of the earl’s wife had been discovered. Edwina felt a chill go through her bones, a chill that had nothing to do with the freshening wind. No one was sure how it had happened, but everyone in the village was certain the castle was cursed. That it had been cursed for some time.

They discussed the curse in hushed horrified voices and kept their distance from the place. And as for the earl himself — few were the villagers who did not find that cold and brooding man a fearful sight.

It was from one of them that Edwina, desperately seeking some means of livelihood, had heard that the girls’ latest governess had fled after only two nights at the castle. Edwina had listened to the tale of the curse, but it was mention of the position, now vacant, that made her heart pound faster and her empty stomach growl with longing. So she’d resolved to go to the castle. It stood to reason, she told herself — and she meant to tell the earl, given the chance — that a girl like her would be a better choice for the position than some newcomer brought in from London.

As she approached nearer to the castle, she rehearsed the speech she’d prepared for the earl. She had nothing left at home — the larder was stone cold bare, not even a crumb — and her future, including that very day’s dinner, rested on the earl’s decision. She had to do this right. She had to convince him to give her the position.

She reached the great door, pulled in a deep breath, and lifted the knocker. At that exact moment, like an omen of disasters to come, a great clap of thunder reverberated through the darkening air. Edwina jumped, startled by the sudden sound, the knocker falling from her fingers.

Great drops of rain came pelting down on her. Pressing closer to the door, she knocked again, this time more energetically, but still there was no answer, and the rain continued to fall, bouncing off the brim of her aged straw bonnet and soaking through the shoulders of her shabby cloak.

Perhaps she should make her way home again and return to the castle another day. But it was a very long way home. There was nothing for her there. Not even a piece of stale bread to make a sparse evening meal. No. It was useless to go home. She needed this position and she needed it now. She’d just have to stand knocking at this door till someone opened it. Straightening her shoulders, she raised her hand again.

Finally, the door swung open. A wizened little man, several inches shorter than she, stood there staring at her in surprise. His bald pink pate was surrounded by a ruff of white hair and his wrinkled face wore an expression of complete bewilderment. Probably visitors no longer came to the castle.

Yes, miss? he said, as though finally believing his eyes.

My name is Edwina Pierce. I wish to speak to the earl. She spoke evenly, trying to disregard the water dripping from her straw bonnet, the dampness rapidly soaking through her cloak.

To speak to the earl, repeated the butler in wonderment.

Yes, to speak to the earl. Now, she added firmly, hoping to move him to action before she was completely soaked.

Only then did the butler seem to notice that she was standing in the rain. Oh dear, you’re agetting wet. Step in, miss, please. You kin wait here in the hall.

Thank you. She stepped out of the rain with gratitude, but after the little man shuffled away, she almost longed to be back outside. The rain, at least, was on the warm side. The huge hall was icy cold and in her damp things she shivered in earnest.

She wasn’t unfamiliar with the chill that penetrated many old castles and made them uncomfortable places to live. There was more to this coldness than that, though. She sensed a feeling of something terribly wrong, something sinister. The villagers were right, this place was cursed.

She pulled the cloak more tightly about her and fought off another shudder. If there were any other place go, any other way to live, she would leave the castle before the butler could come back. The premonition of disaster was that strong within her. Still premonitions were flighty things, after all, not worth listening to, at least not when one was facing starvation. Enough of such ridiculous thinking. She pushed the wet hair out of her eyes, and tried to prepare herself to meet the earl.

Her heart beat a little faster and her palms were damp from more than rain, but — curse or no curse — she had to go through with this. She had to beard in his den this man the villagers spoke of in hushed whispers. A few villagers felt sorry for him, seeing him as victim of the castle’s curse, but at mention of his name most shook their heads, rolled their eyes, and muttered mysteriously. It was one of those, the greengrocer, who, lifting a suspicious eyebrow, looked around and then whispered to her, He’s a cold fish, that one. Then, too, there’s her ladyship’s sister living right there in the castle. With them two men. Who’s to know what all’s agoing on?

  She had not replied to that, of course. Certainly she had no wish to suspect the earl of ill-doing. This position was her last hope. He could be as cold and scornful as he pleased if only he granted her employment. His attachments, whatever they might be, were entirely his own concern. She wanted only to care for his children, and in the caring to find a haven for herself. Was that so much to ask?

The aged butler appeared again. This way, miss.

  She moved after him with relief. Halfway down the great hall, he paused. His lordship, he’ll be seeing you in the library. Here, miss.

Thank you. She straightened her shoulders and stepped through the door. It was very obviously the library, and a large one. Row after row of books lined the walls. Well-used books, she noticed, feeling a little more secure because of them. She even let herself admit a faint hope that on some future day she might have a chance to read in some of them.

A small fire burned on the hearth, but didn’t succeed in taking the chill from the air. At least, not at the distance from it that she waited. By the mantel stood a tall lean man. He looked to be brooding, his shoulders slightly stooped as though he labored under a heavy burden. The gray streaking his temples made him seem older than she knew him to be.

  Now he gazed at her suspiciously, the eyes above his hawkish nose, dark and cold. I understand you wish to speak to me. His voice was as cold as his eyes and she suppressed another shiver.

She took a deep breath and returned his look. I do, milord. I have come to apply for the position — the position of governess to your daughters.

Charles, Earl of Holmden, stared at the sodden creature facing him. She looked sturdily built, but her face had that pinched look that spoke of hunger. Even in that wet cloak it was apparent there wasn’t much meat on her bones. Her dark hair curled in damp tendrils from under a battered straw bonnet that listed to one side, and wide sea green eyes stared at him appealingly from a pale face. But her chin had a jut to it and her mouth stubborn lines.

He noted the threadbare cloak, the scuffed half boots, the faded straw bonnet that was at least five years old. The clothes said she was poor, this girl, but the voice said she was educated.

She continued to stare at him, and finally, her voice firm, said pointedly, Milord? Your daughters? The position?

He shook his head. She shouldn’t have interrupted his reveries. He’d like to just dismiss her, send her away so he could remember his former life in peace. But the creature appeared as stubborn as she was wet. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to just go away. If he wanted to return to his solitude so as to think of Catherine and the life they’d lost, he’d first have to deal with this obstinate young woman.

He frowned. You couldn’t have known about the position, he said, his voice sharper than he intended. Miss McGovern left here only last night. I have not advertised for a replacement.

I— I know that, milord.

She met his eyes bravely, her back ramrod straight. A stubborn chit, not easily cowed. Was that good or bad? He wasn’t sure.

She moistened her lips. I live in the vicinity, milord. I was shopping in the village. It was there I heard that your governess had left and you needed someone, someone to care for your girls.

He glared at her. He didn’t want to think about governesses, about children. Not even his children. He wanted to think about Catherine, about those times together, times when— He sighed. The girls did need a governess. That much was true. If this young woman had been in the village ... Do you know about the castle, about the curse?

Her back still straight, she kept her gaze on his face and said firmly. Yes, milord, I know about it.

He frowned. Why must he be bothered with this kind of thing? He wanted to think about Catherine, just Catherine. You know about the curse and yet you came here anyway? What on earth is wrong with you?

Chapter Two

The young woman draw herself even more erect, her eyes flashing green fire, but her voice remained even, controlled, tightly polite. There’s nothing wrong with me, milord. It’s quite simple. I must live. I need work. You have a position I can fill.

He saw the look of longing she sent toward the fire. Even its meager warmth must look good to her wet as she was. Still he didn’t invite her to move closer to it. He hadn’t asked her here. She had no right to interrupt his memories. What’s your name, girl?

Edwina didn’t care for his tone. But lords were always arrogant, and besides, she was in no position to take offense at anything. Pierce, milord, she replied. My name is Edwina Pierce. My father was the baron. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. She hoped he hadn’t, but that wasn’t the wisest thing to say.

The earl scowled at her, his dark eyebrows meeting in a long fierce line that was, strangely enough, attractive. If you are seeking work, why do you come to me looking like this, like a drowned rat?

It’s raining, milord. She was wet and tired. This aristocrat didn’t offer her a seat or even common courtesy. She glanced down at her sodden cloak. Though she tried, she was not entirely successful in keeping the irritation out of her voice. I was caught in a downpour on my way here.

He gave her a long hard look, his eyes black as midnight, showing nothing, yet somehow projecting great sadness. She caught herself wishing to erase that sadness. Then some of the harshness left his face and he heaved a great melancholy sigh. Come in, Miss Pierce. Take a chair near the fire. I have been remiss. I fear that surprise temporarily suspended my good manners. We have few visitors here at the castle. I’m afraid I have not been myself lately. All this turmoil about governesses has over-set my nerves even more.

She didn’t know why he’d softened toward her, but it didn’t matter. She took the seat he indicated and spread her hands gratefully to the warmth of the fire. At least she was off her feet, and she was nearer the warmth.

While the earl put another log on the grate and pulled up a chair across from her, she let herself appraise him. A tall lean man whose clothes, though obviously once well-cut and expensive, showed the effects of long wear. From their cut it appeared they’d been made in London, before his return to the castle.

Perhaps once he’d followed the dictates of the great Beau Brummell — a man Papa had greatly admired. Now the earl obviously no longer cared what sort of figure he cut. His cravat was sloppily tied, his coat wrinkled, and his boots dull and spotted with mud. Yet in spite of that he was still a commanding figure. The kind of man who could command a woman’s respect, and something more.

Tell me, he said, his eyes boring into hers. Why should a young woman who knows about the curse come here?

She might as well tell him the truth. Pride filled no bellies, after all — and her belly was touching her backbone. My father, the baron, is dead. His substance is gone. His creditors will take the land and the house. She shrugged. Perhaps they have already. I have nothing left with which to support myself. I have no relations or friends to turn to. Therefore I must seek employment.

But here? The earl frowned in puzzlement. Why look for employment here? Surely there is something else you could do. The curse, you know ...

She shrugged again. She wanted to look nonchalant, but it was hard under the scrutiny of those probing eyes. Anyway, all she could do was tell him the truth. A curse, milord, is a nebulous thing. At the moment I must confess that I am much more concerned about the very definite — and ever present — possibility of starvation.

The corners of his mouth curved upward ever so slightly, though there was no hint of a smile in his eyes. Well, you will not starve here. I can promise you that much at least. Though I’m afraid I cannot give you much of a wage.

He gave her another dark look, waiting, it seemed, for her to refuse his offer. Relieved that he hadn’t immediately sent her off, she hurried on. I assure you, milord, I am not concerned about a wage. Not at all. For some time now I have been accustomed to very little. To be adequately fed and housed will be great luxury for me. How could I ask for more?

He nodded soberly. Yes, I understand. Life is often unkind — and to those who least deserve it, I’m afraid.

Edwina sighed. Her own case apart, life had clearly been unkind to him, depriving him of his wife so tragically and leaving him with the responsibility of two young daughters. So it is, milord. Still, I have discovered that there is little to be gained by bemoaning the fact. My best resource has always been to do what is humanly possible. Do that and leave the rest to God.

The earl’s jaw grew taut and his eyes went cold and black — even bleaker than they had been before. I’m afraid you will not find God around here, Miss Pierce. The Almighty seems to have deserted us.

A cold chill enveloped her whole being. Such talk verged on blasphemy. She shivered in her damp clothes and tried to think of some way to answer. But she wanted this position, needed it, had to have it — and perhaps he was justified in at least wondering if the Almighty had deserted him.

She pulled in a deep breath and changed the subject. Milord, perhaps you could tell me what course of study the girls have been following?

He frowned, his forehead wrinkling in puzzlement. Course of study? he asked. I’m afraid I do not know. You see, since my wife’s death— He stopped and swallowed painfully. I have seen very little of the children.

She could scarcely believe her ears. He had left his children to deal with their grief alone! "But milord,

surely .. ."

The earl didn’t seem to hear her. He was staring intently into the fire. They look so much like Catherine, he mused, almost to himself. Especially Henrietta. The resemblance is uncanny. For that reason the sight of them is painful to me. I do not wish to see them.

But milord! This was far more shocking than any idle chatter about curses. With their mother gone, surely the girls are in need of your care. To leave them alone, bereft ...

He turned to her, shaking his head stubbornly, his eyes glinting in the firelight with a strange wildness. I do not see them. Catherine’s sister, Leonore, takes care of them. She stayed on to help me, you see. After— After—

So, Edwina thought, perhaps she had just detected another reason for the prompt return to London of several of her predecessors. It was difficult enough to handle children without someone else constantly interfering. Does her ladyship’s sister expect to continue in these duties? she asked in carefully neutral tones.

The earl raised an eyebrow in surprise. Of course not. She’ll be glad to be relieved of such a duty.

Edwina suppressed a frown. She’d be pleased to be left alone to take care of the girls, but her heart had always held a tender place for little ones and it hurt for these poor little ones left with no one to love them.

The earl returned his gaze to the fire, staring pensively into the flames. A heavy silence slowly filled the room. At first she wasn’t disturbed by it. It was pleasant after such a long walk to sit in relative comfort, close to the fire’s warmth. She’d made her speech to the earl. Now it was up to him.

But as the moments continued to pass and the earl seemed oblivious to her presence, she grew more and more uneasy. Into what sort of household was she trying to gain admittance? How could she hope to help children whose mother, purported to be mad, had died mysteriously; whose cold and distant father harshly refused to see them; and whose aunt would be ‘pleased’ to be relieved of their care? Yet were such little ones not sorely in need of love from someone? Who was there to give it to them but their new governess? If his lordship hired her.

She sighed and then, hearing it resound in the silent room, looked anxiously toward the earl. Still his lordship sat, his eyes intent on the flames, his bearing that of a man alone with his thoughts, quite sorrowful thoughts.

Fidgeting in her chair, Edwina tried to think. The earl hadn’t said he would hire her. He hadn’t said he wouldn’t either. But she couldn’t wait forever. Whatever his answer, she needed to know it.

The day was wearing on. If he hired her, she would need to get her valise from the greengrocer in the village, the valise that held the few personal belongings left her by her father’s creditors. If the earl didn’t hire her, she had still to make the long walk back to what was left of the estate. To another night of hunger and despair.

She took a deep breath. Milord?

His lordship stirred slightly, but still didn’t look at her.

Milord? she repeated with more force.

He swung round in his chair and started as though surprised to see her still there, fixing those dark eyes on her. Yes, what is it?

I am waiting.

Waiting?

To see what you’ve decided.

What I’ve decided, he repeated slowly, almost as though he didn’t know what she was talking about, as though he had to force himself back from some other place.

She stifled her irritation. Yes, about your daughters. About my becoming their governess. That is why I’m here, you know. To see about becoming governess to your daughters.

The earl shook his head as though clearing it of cobwebs. My daughters? Yes, my daughters. Well, it appears that I have little choice in the matter. Those London governesses are always running off. He paused for a moment, regarding her sternly. At least you know the truth about this place. He ran a hand through his hair, making it even more unruly. Yes, you may have the position. Tell Wiggins I have engaged you. He’ll show you the room. It should be in reasonable shape since the other governess just left.

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes

Reviews for Dangerous Decision

[VulcanMom · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Just the typical gothic story. The guy is a coward.