The Game and the Governess Read Online Free PDF Page A

number of people who knew the truth. It was decided that Danson, Ned’s valet, was the only servant who could come with them. In fact, if they traveled with any fewer, Danson had been quick to point out, it would be unlikely that either of them would be recognized as the Earl of Ashby.
    “Fellows, you’ll be staying with Dr. Gray here.” Ned had addressed his carriage driver and his liveried groom—whom it would pain Abandon, his stallion, to be without. “Danson will hire a carriage in Peterborough to take him to Hollyhock tomorrow. It’s not that we don’t trust you, but . . . we don’t trust you.”
    Oddly, both the driver and the groom seemed at peace with this decision.
    It had been the last night that Ned would be himself for two solid weeks. For when he woke in the morning, he and Turner traded clothes, traded horses, and traded lives.
    They had a leisurely breakfast, delaying the inevitable, then waved good-bye to Rhys and their chemist host—a kind, learned man whose hearing had been compromised by his gleeful enjoyment in making things explode in his laboratory.
    And now, the sun was high in the sky, they were only a few miles from their destination, and they had not spoken one word to each other since mounting their horses.
    Until now.
    “I said, I think it will be fun,” Ned repeated. “Being you.”
    “What will be so fun about it?” Turner replied, his tone neutral.
    “Simply that I won’t have to worry about anything. Not about my clothes, or about paying proper attention to my hostess, all those little annoyances that make up an earldom.”
    Turner made a noncommittal noise.
    “Thus,” Ned continued, “I will get to spend all my time wooing any young woman I please.”
    Turner pulled up on his reins, slowing his—actually Ned’s—beautiful black stallion. The horse whinnied in displeasure. Apparently, Turner had not learned the nuances of riding a Thoroughbred like Abandon, who responded to the lightest touch. Unlike the mare Turner usually rode, which was as stubborn as a mule.
    “Perhaps we need to establish some rules,” Turner murmured. “About the wager.”
    “Oh?” Ned said. “What kind of rules?”
    “Basic things. Such as, if either of us reveals our true selves, that man loses.”
    “That makes complete sense.” Ned nodded. “However, since this is a wager where I bear the brunt of the work,” he said reasonably, “I think it should be established that you are expressly forbidden from interfering.”
    “How could I possibly interfere?” Turner replied, trying his best to keep Abandon from dancing as he came to a stop.
    “You could spread lies to any lady who shows interest in me, you could—oh, here, let me.” Ned reached over and took Abandon’s reins, loosening Turner’s grip. “Don’t choke up so high on the reins. He will think there is something to fear.”
    Turner moved his hands farther down the reins, letting them go a bit more slack. Abandon calmed down immediately.
    “Thank you,” Turner grumbled. He took a moment to resettle himself on Abandon’s back. “I agree to your rule. This is a gentlemen’s wager, and I will act as a gentleman throughout.”
    “In fact, I don’t think you should be permitted to say anything bad about me,” Ned decided. “Not even a minor slight. You can only sing my praises.”
    “Since you will be wearing my name, if I slight you, I will be slighting myself,” Turner reasoned, but at a look from Ned, he held up his hand. “All right. I shall only sing your praises. But—I have a condition as well.”
    “Of course.”
    “The object of your affection has to be a lady of good breeding. Someone gently raised. No chambermaids, no cooks.”
    Ned’s brow came down. How did he guess  . . . ? But Turner just smirked.
    “The premise of this wager is that you, as me, could make a lady fall in love with you. Thus, it would have to be someone I would court. And while I may be your secretary, I am still a man