The Goodbye Governess

THE GOODBYE GOVERNESS UNEXPECTED LORDS BOOK FOUR SCARLETT SCOTT The Goodbye Governess Unexpected Lords Book Four All rights reserved. Copyright © 2023 by Scarlett Scott Published by Happily Ever After Books, LLC Edited by Grace Bradley Developmental Editing by Emerald Edits Cover Design by EDH Professionals This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by law. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. For more information, contact author Scarlett Scott. https://scarlettscottauthor.com CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Epilogue Author’s Note on Historical Accuracy Don’t miss Scarlett’s other romances! About the Author For all the members of my Sassy Readers, with thanks CHAPTER 1 YORKSHIRE, 1886 Someone had drawn on his face whilst he was sleeping. Grimly, Knight surveyed his visage in the looking glass. One of four someones, specifically, had committed this abomination. Given the lack of skill in the comical eyebrows which had been applied above his own to create an expression of perpetual surprise, he would wager a guess it had been the youngest of his nieces, five-year-old Mary. And she had used what appeared to be… He rubbed his face, smearing the right eyebrow. “Boot blacking,” he muttered. Where had the little devil managed to get her hands on that? Knight poured some water into a basin and scrubbed at his face, cursing his brother Robert. There had never been a modicum of fondness between them. They’d been enemies from the earliest of Knight’s memories. And now, the selfish, smug arsehole who had delighted in tormenting him in life continued to do so in death, via the medium of his wayward offspring. Who would have supposed that four young ladies could be so much bloody trouble? Not Knight. But then, he’d not had to even contemplate that sort of thing when he had been across an entire vast ocean, happily living the life he had carved out for himself in America. He was The Bruiser Knight, renowned boxing champion. Women loved him. Men alternately feared him and wanted to be him. He had spent every day in unabashed worship of the credo that a rolling stone gathers no moss. Until the day a telegram had arrived from England almost a year ago, telling him he was the newly inherited Earl of Stoneleigh after his brother had failed to recover from a sudden illness, joining his wife Martha in the hereafter. And leaving Knight the sole guardian of Robert and Martha’s daughters. Hellions was a far more appropriate description, he’d discovered upon his arrival at Knightly Abbey just three days before. Grumbling to himself, he reached for a towel and blotted his face dry before assessing his reflection once more. The worst of the damage was gone, but faint traces remained, making his visage appear oddly dirty. It was going to have to do. He stalked to the door of his chamber, intent upon finding his nieces and forcing them to confess which of them was responsible for this nighttime atrocity. A torrent of icy water rushed over his head as he crossed the threshold. “What the bloody hell?” he roared, looking around to find a pail had been hung over his door and rigged to pour water on him the moment he pulled it open. Muffled chuckles hit his ears as he blinked the water from his eyes. “Mary,” he growled, searching around for the source of the levity. The little wretch was hiding somewhere about. He knew it. But where? And, more importantly, where was the damned governess? Scowling, soaked, and furious, Knight decided to pay his first morning call to the newly arrived woman who had been hired to get this damned house in order so he could return to America. Her train had been late, and he had not bothered to meet her the day before when she had finally turned up. She came highly recommended by her previous employer. A most important distinction, for his nieces had chased off every governess who had taken on the sorry task of keeping them from running wild all over Knightly Abbey like the cunning little termagants they were. He had been desperate. When Robert’s steward—now his steward—had telegraphed with the suggestion they hire the latest governess, he had agreed. He’d been in the midst of long-overdue travel to return and hadn’t taken the time to pore over the details. But he was less than impressed with the woman. He came across the housekeeper, Mrs. Oak, before he found the governess or any of his mischief-making nieces. Perhaps a bit young for her position, the brunette woman was eminently capable, and thank Christ for that. He needed all the help he could find. “Good morning, Mrs. Oak,” he said. “Lord Stoneleigh.” She dipped into a curtsy. “Is something amiss?” “I reckon it looks as if a pail of water was dumped on my head,” he drawled, a headache thumping to life. It had taken him nearly a year to force himself back to England following Robert’s death. And this was his dubious reward. “Yes, my lord.” Her eyes were wide. “Because it was. To that end, I am searching for the new governess. Have you seen her?” “No, I haven’t