The Governess Club: Claire by Ellie Macdonald

goers for his phaeton, and had been lucky enough in a few investments. But he lacked substance, lacked character. As proven by that article.
    Jacob pressed his forehead against the cool window and continued watching, continued wishing.
    “I do not like it.” Jacob’s tone was mulish as he slouched against the wall of Claire’s room, watching her ready herself in her finest dress. One thing he was looking forward to once this charade was over was providing her with dresses of the finest silk, muslin, and whatever other material she wanted. Her best dress was at least three years old and only practiced eyes would be able to spot the repairs, but it still screamed of hardened circumstances.
    Claire finished putting in her earrings and checked her hair again. “It happens all the time, Jacob. As Lady Aldgate said, one of the guests was delayed a few days by illness. I have evened out the numbers before.” She looked at him through the mirror and smiled reassuringly.
    “I wish I was going with you,” Jacob said, frowning. “I would ensure your safety.”
    “I will be safe enough,” Claire replied, pulling on her only pair of gloves. “The biggest risk is that I will be seated in the lowest seat next to a bore, which is what normally happens. And bores are nice gentlemen who just desire someone to listen to them, which I am capable of doing. I will be fine.”
    “There will be more than just bores seated at the table.” Jacob had seen the young gentlemen as they had arrived. He recognized their ilk easily enough; he had been part of their ranks at one point. Those who thought servants, and especially governesses, fair game at any cost.
    “I am under the protection of Lord Aldgate, Jacob. The guests will not wish to offend their host.”
    Jacob kept silent on that. He knew too many hosts who had been more than willing to turn a blind eye to behavior involving their servants. He captured her hand as Claire moved toward her door. “You will tell me if something happens?”
    Her reassurance never wavered. “Nothing is going to happen.”
    “You will tell me.” He squeezed her hand for emphasis.
    “Yes, of course.”
    Jacob raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on her palm. “I am looking forward to the day when I can buy you silk gloves. No more threadbare and worn fingertips for you.”
    Claire smiled and cupped his cheek. “I don’t need things, Jacob, just you.” She kissed him lightly on the lips.
    “Enjoy your dinner, my lady.” Jacob released her and watched her add an extra sway to her walk, just for him.
    J acob was not happy. He prowled the corridor above the library, cursing the Aldgates for not building a two-storied room with access from the upper hallway. If they had, he would be able to surreptitiously slip into the upper level to keep an eye on Claire instead of ducking into alcoves whenever footmen or Fosters were around the library.
    Laughter emanated from the library, causing Jacob to frown. Four days now she had been called upon to even out the numbers in the evening entertainments. Her days, understandably, were dedicated to the children, but each night Lady Aldgate demanded Claire’s presence, bemoaning the illness that had prevented her guest from arriving. Each night Claire assured him that nothing would happen—and nothing had. But Jacob couldn’t escape the heavy feeling in his stomach that something was going to happen when he wasn’t there to protect her.
    He hated not being there to keep an eye on her. When they were married, when his deception was over, he would never let her out of his sight at house parties. Too many scandals and incidents occurred at such events; why the ton felt they were still suitable entertainments was beyond him. He knew what could happen at a house party for the basic fact that he had made a lot of those happen at the ones he attended in the past. No, being unescorted at a house party was not for Claire.
    “Psst! Mr. Knightly!”
    Jacob turned