Page 15 of Brazen Rogue
Reign watched him, ensured he made his chamber without incident, and then returned to the servants’ stairs. Making her own floor, she stepped into the passageway and skidded to a halt at the sight of Mrs. Watkins, hands clasped before her and a scowl on her already displeased visage.
"Miss Hall, it is against the household rules to be out and about this late at night. And then you were just downstairs with his lordship when I explicitly told you to keep away from him. He will not marry you or court you, no matter your history. You are a governess now if I need remind you," she said, her lips pulling into a tight, dissatisfied line. "No longer the belle of the ball."
"I apologize, Mrs. Watkins. It was not purposefully done. It will not happen again," she promised, hoping that it would not. For if she came across Lord Lupton-Gage again, she was not so sure she would be able to deny herself a taste of him. A taste of the past, now lost to her forever, whether his lordship was foxed or sober.
"See that it does not," she declared, pushing past her and knocking into her shoulder.
Reign clasped her arm and stood in the passage momentarily, wondering if the housekeeper had just assaulted her. She had never been pushed against by another person in such a manner. Nor did she like the thought that Mrs. Watkins anger could turn physical if she kept finding her in locations and conversations she did not agree with.
She would have to be extra careful to avoid everyone the marquess invited to the house party and his lordship himself. She required this position to last for as long as she needed it to. There was no other option for her than to try to make the best of this bad situation.
Bellamy woke late the next morning, his head thumping and a sharp pain that would not relent at the back of his skull, knocking against his head like a bell. He reached behind and did not feel any protruding lump as if he had hit his head.
He glanced at his bedside table and spied two bottles of whisky. What had he managed last evening, and why was he drinking?
He groaned and slumped back onto his pillows, staring up at the ceiling, knowing full well what his issue was.
Miss Reign Hall. Situated in the attic upstairs, a few mere steps and doors from him. She would be awake by now, of course, dressed and possibly already having given his daughter her lessons for the day.
She would not lie about all morning after a night of drinking.
He pushed back his bedding, and his valet appeared within a moment of his feet hitting the Aubusson rug.
"My lord, a bath?" Chambers suggested.
He nodded. "Yes, I think that is best. The guests arrive late this afternoon, and I need to get my equilibrium back by then and remove this headache."
"I shall fetch a tisane, my lord," his valet said before leaving the room to order the water and tisane.
Bellamy soaked for as long as he could before the water became too cold for comfort and then dressed and readied himself for the day. By the time he strolled downstairs, he was feeling much improved, although he could not remember a blasted thing that had happened the evening before.
A faint recollection of Miss Hall floated in his mind, but he could not remember what they had spoken of. If they had spoken at all ...
Laughter caught his attention, and he walked to the window, looking out over the front courtyard to see Miss Hall and Alice starting down the long, maple tree-lined drive. Both wore bonnets, and Alice held Miss Hall's hand, swinging their arms merrily as they chattered about whatever they were discussing.
He sighed, appreciating the picture they made and wishing his life, or at least Miss Hall's life, had not traveled the path it had.
One of the reasons why he had invited his good friends Lord and Lady Chilsten to the house party this week. If anyone could change Miss Hall's thoughts on being a governess before it was too late, it was the Marchioness of Chilsten.
A carriage appeared on the drive, and he sighed, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before the house was full of guests and he would not be able to dwell each day on Miss Hall, who unfortunately occupied a lot of his mind.
A knock sounded on the door, and his butler announced the first of the guests.
Over the next several hours, carriage after carriage arrived, and he greeted each and every guest in the foyer, welcoming them to his home. Most were from the Lake District; few were from London, other than the Marquess and Marchioness of Chilsten.
He had not thought they would attend, but when he had mentioned who had arrived on his doorstep for work, the marchioness had written him back, announcing they would be in attendance.
He did not see Miss Hall for the remainder of the day, not even when he went upstairs to wish his daughter goodnight.
He left Alice's room and couldn't help but wonder why the housekeeper was there instead of the nanny. It was, after all, the nanny and Miss Hall's employment to care for his child. The idea that the housekeeper was wary of Miss Hall was now even more prevalent in his mind.
"Ahh here you are," a familiar and much-longed-for voice shouted from the foyer.
Bellamy glanced down the stairs and chuckled at seeing his friend and his beautiful wife, the Marquess and Marchioness of Chilsten.
He came down to greet them, hugging the marquess and kissing the marchioness on the cheek. "You made it. I hope your journey was not too arduous."
The marchioness scoffed, pulling off her gloves and bonnet. "Well, of course it was arduous. You live almost in Scotland, Lord Lupton-Gage," she teased him, grinning.
