Like several regiments of the British army, the 44th Regiment of Foot, the East Essex Regiment, disbanded its second battalion in January of 1816, placing its officers and soldiers on half-pay. With the Continent in peace and Napoleon far away on the island of St Helena, there was little need for an army. Commissions were few in the regiments that did not disband, but the places these regiments were sent were less than ideal. Places like fever-ridden West Indies. Or Ireland, where the task was to police what felt like one’s own countrymen. Or, at best, the isolated Mediterranean island of Malta.
Captain Rhys Landon and his wife, Lady Helene, had not sailed to Dover with the rest of the regiment. Instead they’d elected to take rooms in Brussels, where their funds were sufficient to live modestly and where they had friends.
They had another motive, as well. By January, Helene knew she was carrying a child. They worried that a rough passage over the Channel or further travel in England might not be safe for her. That and the uncertainty of how they would live in England.
Their decision to settle in Brussels delighted Mrs Jacobs. She and Louise Wilson called upon Helene almost every day. This day Wilson had joined them. Wilson had brought a wooden cradle he’d made. After he and Rhys carried it up to the bedchamber, they’d gone off to a nearby tavern, while Louise, Mrs Jacobs and Helene sat drinking tea in the small drawing room.
Louise had brought a dress she’d sewn for Helene. She held it up to show her.
‘I do not think you should have bothered with a new dress when I am due so soon,’ Helene told her. She was uncertain precisely when she was due, but it must be soon.
‘Your dresses are becoming too tight in the bodice,’ Louise explained. ‘Let us see if this one will fit better.’
The three women walked upstairs and had Helene try on this newest creation.
‘This takes me back,’ Mrs Jacobs exclaimed, as she handed pins to Louise. ‘Were we not similarly engaged a year ago?’
Helene smiled. ‘For my beautiful gold ball gown.’ So much had happened since then. ‘I must admit, I am able to breathe better in this dress.’
‘Now remember, Madame Helene—’ Madame Helene was the name Mrs Jacobs had settled on when mademoiselle would no longer suit ‘—Louise and I will come when it is your time, and I am prepared to be your baby nurse for as long as you wish it.’
Helene smiled at her. ‘How could I forget?’
After her friends left, Helene washed their tea dishes in the scullery. She occasionally hired a maid of all work to help with the cleaning, but mostly she did not mind these daily chores. This was not the life she’d been brought up to expect, but it was one she much preferred.
Especially because she was with Rhys.
Their months in Paris had been idyllic, strolling along the Seine, exploring the glorious Notre Dame cathedral, dining at outdoor cafes. Helene would not have missed those days for the world. Paris after Waterloo had not at all been the atmosphere Rhys feared. The French people, if not welcoming the British army, were at least tolerant. They’d been very tired of war. But Helene had no wish to stay in Paris as some English expatriates chose to do. She much preferred Brussels where, in her mind, love abounded.
Rhys returned home. He entered the kitchen and gave her a hug from behind while her arms were plunged in dishwater.
‘I collected the post,’ he murmured as he dropped kisses on the tender skin of her neck.
‘Mmm...’ was all she could say.
He released her and pulled out two envelopes. ‘A letter from Grant.’
‘How nice!’ she exclaimed.
‘A letter from your brother.’
‘Oh?’
David rarely wrote to her, although he was doing fairly well in Yarford. Marston stayed on as his valet and proved a steadying force for the young Earl. David was not yet old enough to take total control of his estates, but he seemed to have no difficulty asserting his will and having it accepted.
‘Open David’s first,’ she said. ‘My hands are wet.’
Rhys broke the seal and unfolded the page.
He paraphrased the letter. ‘It is quite civil.’ Sometimes David’s letters were a bit irate when he was worked up about something. ‘It is difficult to make out. He wishes your input on an estate matter. I can tell that. You should read it for yourself.’
She turned to look at him. ‘David wants my opinion?’
He glanced at the page again. ‘I am not certain. I think he wants you to agree with his opinion.’
She smiled. ‘That does sound more likely. I’ll read it later, when my hands and apron are dry and I have time to make out his hand.’ She wiped a plate clean in the soapy water and rinsed it in clear water. ‘And the letter from Grant?’
When the regiment disbanded, Grant returned to England. They’d not received a letter from him in a long time.
Rhys opened the letter and read to himself.
He gasped. ‘I don’t believe this!’
She turned around to face him. ‘What is it? He is not ill, is he?’
‘No. Not Grant. He is well.’ Rhys shook his head. ‘It is his brother.’
‘The Viscount?’
‘Yes.’ He looked up at her. ‘His brother was killed in a carriage accident. The Viscountess, too. They had no sons, so Grant is Viscount Grantwell now.’
‘Oh, my.’ She wiped her hands on her apron and came to his side.
He read further and looked over at her, all expression leaving his face. ‘There is more.’
‘What?’ she asked, alarmed.
‘Grant wants me to manage his estate for him. His brother left matters in disarray and the present estate manager seems to have been skimming funds.’
They stared at each other.
‘Do you want to do that?’ she asked finally.
Did she? she asked herself. Their lives had settled into this comfortable routine—at least Helene’s life had. Her days were busy with cooking, cleaning, shopping. Rhys was more at loose ends. Sometimes Helene wondered if he yearned to be back in the army, leading his men.
He perused the letter again as if to assure himself he’d read it correctly. ‘What do I know about managing an estate? I do not know if I am even capable.’
She put her arm around his waist. ‘Of course you are capable! Grant would not offer it to you if he thought otherwise.’
He turned to face her. ‘Would you like to do this?’
She was so happy here in Brussels. ‘I would miss Mrs Jacobs and Louise and Wilson.’
He nodded, but she thought the corners of his mouth turned down in disappointment.
On the other hand, they could always visit Brussels. ‘There is much I miss about being on an English country estate, too, though.’
His expression brightened. ‘You would consider it?’
She leaned her cheek against his arm. ‘Of course I would.’
He frowned. ‘I would not wish to disappoint Grant.’
She laughed. ‘I am not sure of your meaning. Disappoint Grant by refusing?’
‘By not doing the job well,’ he said.
She reached up to touch his cheek. ‘My love, you have led men in terrible circumstances. You found my brother in—’ She swallowed. ‘There is nothing you cannot do. And you will be with your friend.’
He still looked uncertain. ‘The daughter of an earl married to an estate manager? Would that not be difficult for you?’
A return to England would certainly put her back in the society where status and titles mattered. ‘Perhaps that will matter more to other people than to me. We will not know until we try. It will be another risk.’
The corners of his mouth turned up. ‘Another grand adventure, you mean?’
She grinned. ‘Another grand adventure!’
And nothing was set in stone. If this new life did not suit them, they could always embark on a different grand adventure.
She winced. A sudden pain took her mind in another direction entirely.
‘I will agree on one condition,’ she managed.
‘What condition?’ Rhys looked uncertain again.
She glanced down at her widening girth. ‘I wish to wait until after the baby is born.’ The pain recurred and she looked up at him in wonder and anxiety. ‘Which I think might be very soon!’
His brows rose. ‘Do you mean...?’
She nodded. The pain recurred.
He swept her into his arms and carried her to their stairs.
‘Rhys, I can walk!’ she protested.
He did not heed her. ‘Is there time for me to summon Mrs Jacobs?’
‘I think so.’ Her water had not broken. ‘And Louise.’
He lay her on their bed, but she immediately sat up. ‘Wait!’
He turned back.
She slid off the bed, reached up and tilted his face towards hers. Their lips touched. ‘I have a feeling this will be our grandest adventure of them all!’
He embraced her, holding her close as he had on other occasions of their parting. The morning after the Duchess of Richmond’s ball. At the stables before the battle. At the carriage here in Brussels.
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I will be back soon with Mrs Jacobs.’
She climbed back in bed and he turned to go.
‘Rhys!’ She sat up and called him back again.
He stopped.
‘Come back to me soon.’
‘Always,’ he said, and rushed out through the door.
If you enjoyed this book, why not check out
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The Lord’s Highland Temptation
And be sure to read her The Governess Swap duet
A Lady Becomes a Governess
Shipwrecked with the Captain
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Rags-to-Riches Governess by Janice Preston.