From Governess to Bluestocking [EBOOK]

Chapter 1 <br>
The first buds of spring ought to have been a joyous occasion for all in the London environs. They brought with them a thaw from the unrelenting winter, the aroma of romance, and the whispered promise of the summer Season. <br>
Yet, for Stephen Theyer, the Duke of Richmond's disconsolate son who looked down at the blooming gardens from the second-floor window of his father's grand estate, the bright green shoots coming up from the cool earth could only mean one thing.<br>
"Mother will be on again about my marriage," he said curtly, turning to address his valet. The servant, a pale little man in proper livery, looked up with a sparkle in his eyes.<br>
"I am impressed by Lady Richmond's endurance of the topic," he said. Mr Carl Smith, commonly referred to as "Smith" in the house, had been Stephen's valet for years and knew his master's complaints well.<br>
"It is easy for her to endure when she has my father's full support." Stephen walked to the free-form where Smith was dusting off the shoulders of his morning coat. "And now I am expected to appear at breakfast with the robins echoing their tune of love."<br>
Smith pulled the coat off the form and helped his master into it, adjusting the collar carefully and stepping back to survey his work. <br>
Stephen was of medium height, although strongly built so as to appear taller than he was upon first introduction. He had long, red hair, nearly to his shoulders, dark brown eyes, and a well-trimmed beard that his mother absolutely detested. "You look like a farmer," she'd always said. "Or worse, a poet."<br>
Smith frowned as he examined the coat. "This is a bit out of fashion now, my Lord," he marked thoughtfully. "The lapels are double-notched now. You ought to let me call up your tailor and make some changes."<br>
"As I have no intention of appearing in France at present," Stephen replied with a brief smile, "I suppose my crimes of fashion will be overlooked for the time being."<br>
"Do not suppose too quickly," Smith said, his face sober but his tone filled with gentle humour. "One would not have to travel to France to see double-notched lapels. I'm sure your own father has a proper morning coat now, and he is one who clings to the old ways," he continued.<br>
Stephen raised his eyebrows at his valet. He was well used to the servant speaking his mind, as long as respect and proper diligence were maintained. However, the reminder of his father's adherence to tradition only brought back to mind the problem at hand.<br>
His parents, Lord and Lady Richmond, had only him as a son and heir and, seeing him approach the sophisticated age of six-and-twenty, were quite concerned that he had not yet entertained any marriage prospects. They were already lining up the ladies of the ton, attempting to discreetly insert names and attributes of the fair damsels into common conversation.<br>
Stephen was not fooled. He had been to a dinner party only two nights past, where he found himself face to face with yet another dimpled beauty at every turn. Each fought to capture him with their smiles and coy remonstrations, but the more affectionate they appeared, the more he wanted to escape.<br>
"If my father would only give me time," he said, more to himself than to Smith. It was a comment unconnected from Smith's discussion of fashion, but the valet seemed to understand perfectly and merely nodded silently.<br>
There came at the door a quick double rap and then the butler, Oliver, let himself in.<br>
"Are you quite ready, my Lord?" he asked. "Lord and Lady Richmond are in the breakfast room, requesting your presence."<br>