Julia Justiss – From Waif To Gentleman's Wife (страница 1)
Praise for
Julia Justiss
A MOST UNCONVENTIONAL MATCH ‘Justiss captures the true essence of the Regency period … The characters come to life with all the proper mannerisms and dialogue as they waltz around each other in a “most unconventional” courtship.’
ROGUE’S LADY ‘With characters you care about, clever banter, a roguish hero and a captivating heroine, Justiss has written a charming and sensual love story.’
THE UNTAMED HEIRESS ‘Justiss rivals Georgette Heyer in the beloved
THE COURTESAN ‘With its intelligent, compelling characters, this is a very well-written, emotional and intensely charged read.’
MY LADY’S HONOUR ‘Julia Justiss has a knack for conveying emotional intensity and longing.’
MY LADY’S PLEASURE ‘Another entertaining, uniquely plotted Regency-era novel … top-notch writing and a perfect ending make this one easy to recommend.’
MY LADY’S TRUST ‘With this exceptional Regency-era romance, Justiss adds another fine feather to her writing cap.’
Pushing past the butler, Joanna stumbled over the threshold, her chilled body drawing her like a moth to the flames dancing on the hearth. In her dazed and exhausted mind, images swirled before her eyes: the rainswept road. Her stiff cold fingers. Her empty purse.
She felt as if she were swaying in a high wind. The disapproval on the face of the tall man by the hearth was the last thing she saw before the images dissolved and she slipped into blackness.
Consternation tempering his irritation, Ned hastened to catch the girl before her head hit the wooden floor. As he gathered her up, glancing about him to determine where to deposit his soggy burden, he realised his first impression had been wrong.
Before she’d fainted he’d noted little more than large dark eyes, a determined little chin and the fact that she was dripping all over the carpet. But, though her body was short and slender, this was no girl he held in his arms, but a woman.
His sleepy body roused abruptly to full attention.
About the Author
JULIA JUSTISS wrote her first plot ideas for a Nancy Drew novel in the back of her third-grade notebook, and has been writing ever since. After such journalistic adventures as publishing poetry and editing an American Embassy newsletter she returned to her first love: writing fiction. Her Regency historical novels have been winners or finalists in the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart™,
Novels by the same author:
THE WEDDING GAMBLE
THE PROPER WIFE
MY LADY’S TRUST
MY LADY’S PLEASURE
MY LADY’S HONOUR
A SCANDALOUS PROPOSAL
SEDUCTIVE STRANGER
THE COURTESAN
THE THREE GIFTS
(part of
From Waif To
Gentleman’s
Wife
Julia Justiss
Making sure little Susan, who suffered from nightmares, had finally settled into a deep sleep, Joanna Merrill gave the child’s silky hair a gentle pat and slipped from her charge’s side.
‘Thank’ee, ma’am, and I be sorry to have intruded on your evening,’ the nursemaid Hannah whispered, still rocking Susan’s younger sister in the schoolroom just beyond the little girl’s bed. ‘But I was fair at my wit’s end, what with this one wailing and Miss Susan all afret. Ye’ve got the touch that soothes that little mite. Better get downstairs now, afor you miss your tea.’
Having escaped another interminable dinner under the lecherous eye of Lord Masters, her employer’s husband, Joanna had no intention of pouring tea for the family, despite her mistress’s instruction that she return to do so after calming Miss Susan.
‘No, Hannah, I’m feeling weary. I believe I will just return to my room and read.’
‘Very well, miss. Goodnight to you … and be careful.’
Joanna had no need of the nursemaid’s cryptic warning. Avoiding Lord Master’s unwanted advances was becoming so great a challenge that, much as she enjoyed the peace of the countryside and her active young charges, Joanna knew she would soon be forced to seek another position, thereby confronting head-on the concern that had prevented her from giving notice within a week of her employers’ arrival in the country—the suspicion that Lord Masters, loath to allow the current object of his wandering eye to escape, would somehow prevent his wife from giving her the necessary references.
How things had changed in the fortnight since her long-absent employers’ return from London, she thought with a sigh as she tiptoed across the schoolroom. When a friend of her late husband’s family had recommended her for this governess’s position almost a year ago, she’d thought it the answer to her prayers, devastated as she’d been after losing first her babe and then her darling Thomas. Having neither strength nor funds to seek out Papa, still a chaplain with the East India Company, and unwilling to throw herself on her elder brother Greville’s charity, or abase herself by begging assistance from Thomas’s family, who had made clear their disapproval of his marrying the daughter of a untitled country gentleman, she’d been happy to trade the noise and dirt of London for the rural beauty of this remote corner of south-west Hampshire.
Instructing two small girls, at once sweet and demanding, filled her days with an endless activity that left her little time to brood. She’d found a measure of tranquillity that dulled the pain of having to surrender her dreams of building a family and a future with Thomas. A fragile peace that had been shattered within a few days of the arrival of Lady Masters, whom she’d met once the day of her interview, and Lord Masters, whom Joanna had never seen, back at his ancestral estate.
As she paused on the threshold, peering cautiously into the corridor, she recalled with a bitter smile how charming she’d thought Lord Masters at their first meeting. Appearing not at all high in the instep, he’d paused to chat with the new employee, enquiring about her family and even claiming friendship with her distant and high-born relation, the Marquess of Englemere, who employed her brother Greville to manage one of his small properties. After she informed Lord Masters how remote was her kinship to this cousin she’d never met and confessed how removed she’d always lived from London society, she expected the Viscount would soon abandon his politeness to a mere governess.
Instead, he’d continued to seek her out, paying her flattering attention as he chatted about literature, art, music and the theatre under the guise of discussing what he considered important for his daughters’ education. Lulled into complacency, she’d noticed nothing untoward until the fourth evening after his arrival … when he’d cornered her alone in the library after dinner.
Still loath to step into the shadowy corridor, she lingered a moment longer, a shudder rippling through her as she recalled that infamous night. Something about his lordship’s gaze, which had seemed to hover with unseemly interest on her bosom, had made her immediately uneasy. The quantity of wine he’d drunk at dinner glazing his eyes, he’d tried to persuade her to remain in the library and talk to him. She’d kept the big desk between them as he entreated her, then walked quickly away, holding the book she’d chosen before her chest like a shield.
Heart thumping like a drum beating the advance, she’d almost managed to escape before, closing the distance between them, he’d reached out and run his fingers over her bottom. The sound of his laughter when she knocked his hand away and scurried out, slamming the door behind her, had chilled her to the core.
Locked inside her room, heart still thrumming in alarm, she’d considered complaining at once to Lady Masters. But what would she do if her employer didn’t believe her?
Lord Masters was a Viscount and her employer’s husband. She was a soldier’s widow, her father an insignificant clergyman currently out of England, the brother she’d not seen in years employed on an estate far away. Who would support her if Lord Masters denied her charges, as he was almost certain to do?