A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3) Page 3

  She straightened her posture and forced herself to be calm as they mounted the stairs. She could interview with this earl and be presentable and proper. She was very good at first impressions; it came from being the youngest in a family of exceptionally well-behaved children. She’d had two additional mothers in the forms of her older sisters, and lessons in etiquette were a daily occurrence.

  But this would apparently be the earl’s second impression of her, and she must make up for whatever flaws had been evident in the first. She was always making up for her flaws. It was one of her worst faults. According to Lucy, at any rate. How she had fallen so far from proper behavior, her oldest sister had never explained, but Beth had also grown accustomed to never receiving proper answers.

  “He wasn’t displeased, was he?” Beth whispered in a worried voice as they continued into the house and headed down a hallway, the gilt-framed paintings on the walls drawing her attention every time she passed. “When he asked to meet me, was he disapproving? I know I did not behave properly with the children, but…”

  “Beth,” Lily overrode, taking her hand and patting it. “He was not displeased. I think he might even have been amused by your antics.”

  That surprised her, and Beth found herself smiling. “Really?”

  “Well, I don’t know for certain,” Lily replied with a laugh. “He did not tell me every thought in his head where you were concerned. Just calm yourself. It will be all right.”

  “Calm myself,” Beth muttered, shaking her head. “With an earl suddenly wanting to meet me? I think you forget what high circles you move in, Lily.”

  Lily paused to give her an exasperated look just outside the drawing room. “Elizabeth Owens, would you be calm? If I move in circles so high, then you must permit me to drag you along for the experience. Now, put on your best face and let me introduce you.”

  Beth ducked her chin a little, her face flaming. “I apologize. Thank you for taking pity on me.”

  “Pity?” Lily sniffed and shook her head, her dark tresses dancing. “Friends do not pity. You will be just fine.”

  Something in her friend’s tone brought Beth’s defenses back up. “What are you talking about?” she asked slowly, backing away. “You’re not… You wouldn’t… You’ll be with us the entire time, will you not?” The little smile her friend offered made Beth suddenly go cold.

  “Of course not,” Lily replied. “I am the hostess. I cannot possibly stay in here and abandon the rest of my guests. But have no fear; one of my footmen will be just outside the room if you should need anything.”

  That was not at all encouraging. “Lily…”

  But her impertinent friend had already turned back and pushed open the door into the room. “I am sorry to keep you waiting, Lord Montgomery, but I have brought her at last.”

  There was no course but to follow her in. Beth patted the side of her head self-consciously, praying there were no more stray flowers or blades of grass. If her hair looked a fright, it was the least she could do to avoid having plants entangled in it. Exhaling slowly, she entered the room with her hands politely clasped before her.

  Consequently, she stumbled on the edge of the carpet and barely managed to catch herself before actually falling to the ground. Beth wished she could have perished on the spot, and she hadn’t even looked at the man who had risen from the settee.

  Perhaps he would not mind if she exited the room and re-entered for a third impression?

  “Miss Elizabeth Owens, may I present Lord Montgomery? Lord Montgomery, my great friend, Miss Owens,” Lily was saying in her usual friendly tones, officially ending any hopes that Beth had of fleeing. Now she had to stand perfectly straight, smile intelligently, and meet the earl’s gaze directly.

  As she did so, she was struck by Lord Montgomery’s height, by his rather regal air, and by the most perfect features she had ever seen in her entire life. He was smiling at her, sort of, with one side of his mouth slightly curved. His hair reminded her of aged gold, and it curled ever so slightly at the ends. Chiseled jaw, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, a brow that was neither too high nor too low, and eyes that varied somewhere between blue, grey, and green. Quite possibly the most pleasantly-featured man she had ever seen in her life. And he was smiling at her, sort of.

  Oh dear.

  “Lord Montgomery asked to meet with you, Beth,” Lily said, gesturing towards him. “He’s a very old friend and a most excellent man.”

  Lord Montgomery, who had been staring a bit too pointedly back at Beth for her liking, suddenly slid a wry glance to Lily. “Really, Mrs. Granger, I am neither a very old friend nor a most excellent man.”

  “And I am certainly not a very great friend,” Beth inserted hastily, her hands now gripping at her skirt a little. “She exaggerates.”

  Lord Montgomery looked back at Beth with a hint of amusement. “She is going to give us false ideas of each other before we begin.”

  “It’s because she has a kind heart, and tries to think the best of everybody,” Beth murmured.

  The earl nodded, that sort-of smile still quirking. “I admire her greatly for such a trait, but one must allow for honesty.”

  Beth couldn’t help it; she had to smile a little, despite trying to stay somber. “I quite agree, my lord.”

  “Oh, I despair of the both of you,” Lily huffed, rolling her eyes. She swept back towards the door. “I’m going back to my guests. You two do as you like. Monty, do behave yourself, won’t you?”

  “Always,” he said in a serious tone, glancing after her even though she did not look back. He returned his gaze to Beth and regarded her for a moment.

  It was really rather awkward with Lily gone, simply standing there in silence before each other.

  Was she supposed to say something? Her experience with peers of the realm extended only to those in the lower ranks who had sent their daughters to her finishing school, and hardly a one of them had ever had a kind word for poor Miss Elizabeth Owens.

  What was the proper etiquette in a situation like this? Did she stay silent? Did she ask questions? Was she supposed to curtsey or stand here meekly, answering “Yes, sir,” or “No, sir,” to his every question? But he hadn’t asked any questions… yet.

  “Will you sit, Miss Owens?” Lord Montgomery asked in a respectful voice.

  Beth blinked a little. Oh, was that all? That was a simple enough request. Her mouth twitched in an involuntary smile, and she nodded, lowering herself carefully to the divan behind her.

  The earl sat opposite her with ease and with grace. He, at least, was not nervous. Nor, she supposed, had he reason to be.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I asked Mrs. Granger to introduce us, Miss Owens,” he said, somehow smiling in his tone but not with his mouth.

  Beth shook her head quickly. “Not at all, my lord, I am grateful for the opportunity.”

  He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, cocking his head in confusion. “Were you, indeed?”

  She nodded meekly. “Yes, my lord.” She opted not to say more, trying to remember how to be demure and polite when faced with a powerful man who could give her a desperately-needed position.

  Impertinence would not be appreciated, nor would rambling. Beth tended to be inclined towards both.

  Lord Montgomery propped his elbow on the arm of the sofa, hand positioned in a thoughtful pose against his face. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Owens, if you please.”

  Beth straightened up, praying her hands would remain gracefully clasped in her lap. “I am from Oxfordshire, my lord, near Abingdon. My godparents sent me to finish at Mrs. Rampton’s School in Berkshire where I received an excellent education, giving me all the skills and knowledge that a competent and capable governess ought to possess. I am learned in French, German, and Latin; I have skills in penmanship, arithmetic, as well as prominent literature. I can teach deportment and manners, as well as…”

  “Miss Owens,” Lord Montgomery interrupted, a deep furrow between his brows, “
I don’t wish to engage you as a governess.”

  Beth stared at him for a moment, then sighed heavily and let her shoulders droop a little. “No, of course, you don’t.” She was not entirely sure if she were disappointed or relieved, but she suspected it was an odd mixture of both. In truth, she would have to admit that arithmetic made her itch, and her German accent sounded as though she were ill. Her aggrieved headmistress had maintained that Beth’s skills in deportment bordered on ‘just enough to not be shocking’, so she really would have been quite hopeless.

  Her reaction seemed to amuse him. “Why would you think that was why I asked Mrs. Granger for an introduction?” he queried, that sort-of smile returning to his face.

  She stared at him rather blankly. “Why else would you want to meet with me, my lord?”

  “That… is an excellent question,” he said slowly, his thumb grazing his jaw absently as his gaze fixed on her.

  It was all she could do to not fidget under such a gaze. “Yes, sir?” she prodded, smiling nervously.

  His lips quirked with an ironic tilt. “I haven’t yet decided, Miss Owens.”

  Beth smiled in earnest now, laughing at the bizarre twist of their conversation. “Will you tell me when you have?”

  Lord Montgomery gave a slow nod. “Most assuredly.”

  There was something rather warm about his voice just then, and it made her want to blush a little, for no good reason. She laughed again, still a nervous sound, and then she forced herself to be more collected, though it was much nicer to know that she was not about to be considered for a position, and therefore did not have to be so impressive to him.

  “Lily told me that you have children, my lord,” she offered with a polite clearing of her throat.

  His sort-of smile grew just a little as his gaze drifted more distant. “Yes, four of them. Two girls and two boys.”

  “Four is a very good number,” Beth praised, smiling encouragingly. “And with equal numbers, it is always sure to be a fair fight.”

  He made a noise that almost passed for a laugh. “It usually is, but it does not follow that they fight fairly.”

  “Fighting fairly is overrated,” she quipped, thinking back on her childhood, “or so I’ve been told.”

  Lord Montgomery observed her with interest. “I understand that you are from a slightly larger family, Miss Owens.”

  Beth snorted loudly and pushed back a stray lock of hair. “Slightly? I am the youngest of ten, my lord, which means that I was the last to be picked for games, the one most likely to annoy my siblings no matter what I was doing, and I suffered a great deal of confusion regarding who my actual parents were.”

  He smiled in earnest then, and Beth found herself a bit taken aback by it, for it might have been the most glorious sight out of a church that she had ever witnessed.

  “And were you a troublesome child, Miss Owens?” he inquired.

  “Not intentionally, my lord,” she replied with a shrug, praying that he would stop smiling for the sake of her insides. “But I always seemed to be in the way.” She offered him a cheeky smile. “Somehow, I became a most convenient nanny once my siblings’ children arrived. I was barely more than a child myself, so I was always assured of companions and responsibilities whenever they were about.”

  “And how often was that?”

  “Almost constantly. Why bother moving elsewhere when someone is at hand to tend your children for the very reasonable salary of nothing at all?”

  He was still smiling, blast him, and he dropped his hand from his face. “Why, indeed?” he agreed.

  Their conversation continued in rather simple terms, discussing her time in London, which had been limited, her taste in literature, which had been so very restricted, and her travel in England, which had never gone as far as the lakes or the coasts. She must have painted a very boring picture of her life for him, but he seemed content enough with her conversation.

  Was he perhaps just a lonely man with a limited number of acquaintances in London? It didn’t make sense, but why else would he want to meet with her merely to hear about Oxfordshire and Berkshire and witness for himself just how very much she lacked in all things fine?

  He said little about himself or his children, but she had the sense that he was a private, reserved man, and that was certainly nothing to find fault in. She was not inclined to rattle on about herself unless prodded, as he was doing. It never took long to tell her life story, considering the unexciting life she had lived thus far.

  “Do you play, Miss Owens?” he asked suddenly, a rather random question since they had just been discussing the pleasures of country living. “The pianoforte, I mean. I know very well that you play all sorts of things.”

  Beth made a face, blushing. “Yes, my lord, I heard that you witnessed my antics. I would be embarrassed, but…”

  “You shouldn’t be,” he assured her, “it was a charming sight.”

  Well, so was he, but she was hardly going to go about saying such things.

  “Yes, my lord,” she said quickly, praying he had not noticed how her voice faltered. “I do play. Not particularly well, but enough for dancing and songs with the children.”

  “But what about for yourself?” he pressed, his gaze suddenly intense. “Do you play for your own pleasure?”

  Beth sat back a little, considering the question and forgetting to sit with perfect posture. “I hardly know,” she admitted without shame. “I’ve never played for my own pleasure or amusement, only at the behest of others.”

  His expression was suddenly unreadable, his eyes slightly narrowed as he stared at her.

  It had been an easy conversation between them, and she could honestly say she was not particularly nervous or intimidated by him, save by his exceptional good looks, and so she had no qualms about staring just as boldly back.

  “What were you planning on doing next?” Lord Montgomery asked softly, his lips barely moving. “With your life, I mean.”

  She offered a small smile and a sigh. “Well, no doubt Lily told you of my situation. I have limited enough opportunities, so I was going to advertise as governess in a few days. That’s why I thought you were interviewing me. My first official position, you know.”

  If it was possible, his gaze intensified even more, and he dipped his chin into an almost nod. “I see. Miss Owens, would you consider waiting a bit longer before seeking a position as a governess? Just… wait.”

  “For what, my lord?” she asked, barely managing to breathe for the odd tingling that had suddenly taken over her body, particularly in her fingers, toes, and stomach.

  He seemed to hesitate, then he shook his head and rose from his seat. “I will let you know.”

  For some completely absurd reason, that response made her smile. “You don’t know that, either?”

  He surprised her by shaking his head and rising. “I don’t. It seems there is a lot to consider.” He offered her a hand.

  “About me?” she asked, taking it and allowing him to help her rise.

  Those eyes of his captivated her again as he murmured, “About everything.”

  Beth held her breath as she stared up at him. “Well, it is probably best you did not want to hire me, my lord. I would make a hash of something as comprehensive as everything.”

  His sort-of smile returned, and he led her from the room. “I doubt you make a hash of anything, Miss Owens.”

  Her breathing restored, in a way, she slid him a mischievous glance. “That is because you don’t know me, my lord. No one asks in a governess interview, but I am really quite skilled at making a hash of things. Ask my siblings.”

  “Which ones?”

  “All of them.”

  “I am beginning to wonder if you have any sensible siblings at all.”

  “Oh, I don’t,” she replied lightly as they returned to the other guests. “Sense wasn’t required in our family. Not a single Owens of sense in Oxfordshire.”

  “But one in London, I think.”


  Beth almost rolled her eyes and looked up at the earl again. “What makes you think I have any sense, my lord?”

  He returned her look with one that made her want to shiver, whether in delight or unease she couldn’t say. “I’ve just spent a fair amount of time with you, Miss Owens. I am quite good with first impressions, as well as subsequent ones. I know you have plenty of sense, I can see it, and a great many other qualities besides.”

  Beth bit her lip against the desire to ask what exactly those other qualities were. “Well, I always improve with every impression, my lord.”

  He sighed a little as he returned her out of doors. “I was afraid of that.”

  Chapter Three

  "Cap, are you sure about this?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Then why are you…?”

  “Because I don’t have time to be sure about it.”

  There was a faint snort, and then Rogue sat back against the carriage cushions. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Malcolm gave his colleague a sour look. “Mind yourself, Rogue. You know what my reasons are.”

  “Yes, and you know my opinions on the subject.” Rogue lifted a thick brow, challenging him again.

  It had been the same argument for months. Rogue never understood why Malcolm needed a wife, if he were not going to find pleasure in it. He recommended the hiring of a very pleasant and qualified governess and nanny to fill the children’s void. Gent pleaded with him to wait until he found love again, no matter how long it took, as anything less would not be worth having. Rook… Well, Rook was a bit tied up in knots with his own feelings over a certain fair-haired cousin of Gent’s wife and didn’t know what to make of it, so he couldn’t decide what he thought Malcolm should do.

  He’d taken a full week after his pleasant interview with Miss Owens to mull things over, and he was all but decided on his course.

  But still, he hesitated.

  She would be perfect for his children, he was certain, although he questioned her ability to discipline or act in any sort of authoritative manner. She was warm and child-like, but could she be stern? Could she face the harsh reality of his life without bursting into tears at the slightest provocation? He had been on his best behavior with her the other day, and he’d impressed himself with the warmth he’d managed. He was rarely so congenial these days, and Miss Owens, while having impressed him, might have received a false impression of him.