“No, thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

The housekeeper beamed pleasantly, then left.

Anna waited until the woman’s footsteps had faded before she tossed her napkin onto the table and leaned over to push open a window. It was a beautiful summer day, the sky blue without a cloud in sight. Below, the garden swayed sleepily in the sunlight, a cacophony of pink, purple, blue and green. The house sat quietly, as if at rest. But somewhere inside the house were five very determined children who were probably even now scheming to oust their new governess, sight unseen.

Fortunately for those five determined children, Anna was not going anywhere. She needed Greyley’s funds if she was going to establish a real home for herself and Grandpapa.

Anna knew the general lot of the children of the ton, and Greyley’s wards seemed to fit the pattern. Confined to the care of unfeeling servants, and allowed out of the nursery only to be shown to company, many children went weeks without seeing their own parents. Anna’s approach as governess was slightly different from most—she tried to improve not only the children’s behavior, but that of their parents as well. Most parents did not maliciously neglect their children; they were merely continuing a pattern they themselves had experienced.

Most governesses wouldn’t have had the opportunity for frank speech, but Anna’s unique position as both a former member of the ton and as the most sought after governess in London had given her access to the lords and ladies she worked for. Like her grandpapa, she never turned from the opportunity to fix same aspect of another person’s life.

Schedules, indeed. Anna sniffed. One of the first things she needed to change was Greyley.

For too many years the earl had had his own way in life—she could see it in the way he expected complete and immediate obedience to even the simplest requests. With unlimited funding, a respected and ancient title solidly behind him, and an impressive physique that left him towering over most men, Greyley believed that he knew what was best for everyone.

It was a very dangerous habit for a man to possess, and Anna decided it was one that needed amending as soon as possible.

But how? She was mulling over this particularly thorny problem when a knock sounded at the door.

A liveried footman appeared holding a silver salver. “A note, miss. From Lord Greyley. He said there was no need to wait for an answer.”

Anna took the note from the salver, and the footman bowed and left.

The vellum was crisp in her fingers, the handwriting bold and strong, each letter marked with a sweeping flourish. Even if she hadn’t seen it before, she would have known Greyley’s handwriting.

Thraxton, the note read.

The children will be assembled in the library at two to meet you. Do not be late.

Greyley

Anna crumpled the note into a ball. It would have been polite to have at least asked if the time was convenient. For an instant, Anna toyed with the idea of sending the earl a note telling him that she would be resting at two, that four would suit her much better. But she was ready to meet her new charges.