Page 7 of Brazen Rogue
His lordship's face hardened, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Lady Lupton-Gage left after our first year of marriage, and I received word while she was abroad that she passed in a carriage accident."
For a moment, Reign was rendered mute. Lady Lupton-Gage had died? Why had Julia not told her such news? But then, did she even know? From what she could gather, his lordship had not traveled from Derbyshire for some years. Mayhap no one knew.
"I'm so sorry, my lord. I did not learn of the tragedy," she said, placing a little space between them, not wanting a servant to see them together and suspect her of trying to win his lordship's affection, knowing he was a widower.
How mortifying such a rumor would be, and she needed so desperately to fit in here, to earn her keep and survive. She could not have disgrace touch her.
"Thank you," he said, striding to his daughter, who joined them, a wide smile on her pretty face. "You did so well, my darling. You are a grand horsewoman," he said.
Little Lady Alice giggled, and Reign smiled. "Thank you, Papa. I think I have earned my cream cakes at dinner this evening, do you not think?" she stated.
"I think you may well have," he agreed, smiling over at Reign. The pit of her stomach clenched seeing him again, outdoors, happy and grinning. He was so handsome, so lovely, and had been hers once.
Why could he not be again?
No, she inwardly swore. Widower or not, he was not for her. But oh dear, if only he were, how sweet her life would be.
ChapterFour
The next day Bellamy sat in his library and listened to the sound of the pianoforte and the soft melody of Beethoven drift through the house.
Miss Hall was playing, instructing his daughter, who now and then tried to replicate Miss Hall's delicate touch on the ivory keys, but to no avail.
Somehow Bellamy knew that music was not his daughter's forte.
He picked up the missives that had arrived today, several acceptances for his house party and one in particular that he knew Miss Hall would be pleased to know of.
Not that he would tell her. As his daughter's governess she would not expect to be informed, but having the Marquess and Marchioness of Chilsten arrive would please her and put a welcome smile on her pretty face.
A letter stamped from Spain caught his attention, and he tore it open. The last known location of his wife was in Spain before her passing, and although he had been advised of her death, he did not like that he had not been able to bury her here in England and allow his daughter to say goodbye to her mother, to visit the grave whenever she wished.
There was something fundamentally wrong with such a thing.
The missive explained yet again another debt that required his attention. An inn where she had ordered an unhealthy amount of wine if the inventory of her bill was any indication.
His daughter's chuckle and that of Miss Hall's reached him, and curiosity got the better of him. He stood, moving toward the music room door that was just a little farther along to his library.
He leaned against the threshold and watched his daughter try to read the music and play at the same time, Miss Hall guiding her, never chastising her or correcting her when she made an error. Which, unfortunately, was often.
"I'm only five, Miss Hall. I'm certain with your teachings, by the time I'm five and a half, I'll be proficient."
Bellamy bit back a laugh and noted that Miss Hall, too, was fighting not to chuckle. His poor daughter missed her mama, even though she had never known her. And he knew she longed for the company of women or one woman who would love and care for her.
It was the one thing he could not forgive Sally for. Even with her lying in the cold hard ground as she was.
"Lord Lupton-Gage, I did not see you there," Miss Hall said, standing. "Come and listen to Lady Alice. She is doing very well."
He smiled and joined them at the pianoforte. His daughter sat up straight and corrected her fingers before starting to play. "Do you see, Papa? I'm already getting better. Miss Hall is a wonderful governess."
Miss Hall smiled but did not reply, and nor did Bellamy. It was odd being near her again. Awkward and yet also not. He wanted to speak to her, have long conversations about all things, and yet he could not. She was a governess now, a different social sphere to his, and there was no changing that fact.
And they had not been alone in some years. So many things had changed in both of their lives.
But that long-ago kiss ...
His attention moved from his daughter, and he met Miss Hall's eyes over her head. She had taken control that night, had clasped him by the lapels of his coat, and stolen the kiss she wanted.
What they had both wanted.
