In which our heroine acts the governess

The next morning Corinna rose later than planned, consumed a breakfast substantial enough to satisfy a farmhand at harvest time, and donned one of Mother's sober-hued dresses that made her daughter look dowdy. Dowdy was exactly the effect her intrepid daughter wished to achieve, since she wanted to blend into the background. The simple dress was to be a shield made of drab linen printed with a busy leaf pattern in shades of ecru and taupe that did nothing for her complexion. A mob cap with a pleated frill completed the arrangement.

"Voilà. One mousy governess," she told her image in the blotchy mirror. Said governess then ensured her ill-begotten loot still hung safely in the fireplace, headed for Amanda's room and scratched on the panel.

When she received no response, she depressed the handle and slipped into a chamber much the size of her own, decorated in cheerful creams and pinks. And ruffles. Lots of ruffles, even on the four-poster bed too big for one small child.

The frilly curtain moved and a pale face smothered in dark curls peeped from the gap.

"Oh, it's you." Relief sounded in the girl's voice.

"Yes, it's me. We weren't officially introduced, and I wanted to remedy matters. I'm Miss Wolverstoke, your new governess. Are you feeling better?"

A shy smile stole into Amanda's elfin features. They were dominated by her luminous green eyes, framed with dark lashes. She was pretty already, and one day she would no doubt develop into a beauty. Given her name and the wealth of her family, such a female would normally be a highly eligible partie on the marriage mart.

If it wasn't for that business with the panther lurking in her soul.

"Yes, Miss Wolverstoke, very much so. It hardly hurts anymore."

Amanda slipped from her bed in a fluid movement that reminded Corinna of a cat and limped across the carpet until she stood right in front of her.

"Amanda, pray be careful. Your wound needs plenty of rest."

A sweet smile danced over the girl's features. "Yes, yes. I shall go back to bed presently. May I hug you? My old governess never knew what I am. She was ever such a rumor-monger. And I just know she would have screeched had she seen me like you did. She screeched when she only saw a mouse. Can you imagine?"

A painful warmth flooded Corinna's chest. The poor little thing. Here she was worrying about the girl's future, when her present was already fraught with danger.

Wordlessly, she opened her arms and pressed the hot little body to her chest. Was the girl's temperature higher than a normal human's? It was so with cats.

Amanda broke contact, and with big green eyes took in Corinna's appearance. "Pooh, why do you dress like that? You're beautiful like a princess. I so wish I was blonde. You should be wearing silks and jewels."

"Rather inappropriate for a governess, don't you think? As to colors, well, I gather panthers aren't ever blonde."

The girl broke into a peal of laughter. "I never thought of it that way. Pray tell me, why aren't you afraid?" The laughter faded away, and she hugged her knees under her muslin nightshirt. "Most people are afraid when they see my panther."

"I was, but not once I realized who you were. If you'd been a real panther—"

"I am a real panther," Amanda said hotly.

"Well, then. A panther who isn't also a little girl. If you were that, you might have eaten me."

The girl giggled. "You're too big to eat. You would have given me a tummy ache. Do not fret, I shan't ever eat you. I like biscuits and cocoa much better. But you must tell nobody, never ever."

"That's obvious. There are many people who are so afraid of who you are, they would...never listen to reason."

"Do you promise not to tell?"

"I promise, Amanda."

"Good," said a male voice from the door. "Otherwise I would need to kill you."

"Uncle Eugene, Uncle Eugene." More reminiscent of a puppy than a kitten, Amanda limped for her uncle and threw her arms around his midriff.

Demoral, impeccably clad in riding gear with a dark blue coat that seemed molded to his impressive physique, regarded Corinna calmly over the child's dark mop of curls that nestled under his chin. There was mockery in his green eyes that matched his niece's. Mockery—and a challenge.

Corinna raised her chin. "You'll find me difficult to kill, my lord. People have tried before." She bit her lips, but the words were already out.

He raised a brow. "Why am I not surprised? You just aren't in the usual style, are you, Miss Wolverstoke?"

"Nor is your family."

His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Quite so. However, I didn't realize your...uniqueness would be that lethal. There is something you're not telling me, and I shall find out what it is."

The harm was done, the word was out, and all she could do was pick up the gauntlet. He enjoyed verbal sparring? Well, with a figure like a pugilist his behavior was unsurprising.

Corinna called herself to order and curtseyed. "Many have tried. Few succeeded. I assure you, I'm quite harmless, and my intentions are good."

"They might be, Miss Wolverstoke. They might be. Joking aside, you need to understand that I quite mean what I say. You will find the denizens of Demoral Park a closely knit community. We all...look after each other. Anyone who dares to break the peace will find out just how much we care for this peace."

Amanda let go of her uncle and limped back to her bed. "Pooh, must you talk like that? I tell you Miss Wolverstoke is a right one. No need to eat her."

"Amanda." The Marquis's voice snapped like a whip. "I told you. Don't joke about these things."

The girl pouted.

Corinna counted to five until she found herself capable of speaking again. As if she hadn't known already she really shouldn't have come to this place.

"Pray tell me, my lord. How many panthers exactly prowl the grounds, and what times of the day—or night—should I avoid in case I wish to take the air?"

He raked his fingers through his coiffure. Since he had arranged his dark locks in the windswept style—which suited him eminently—the effect was hardly noticeable.

"Only Amanda, and from her you have nothing to fear."

"Forgive me, my lord, I find that hard to believe."

He raised a brow, a bold, black arch reminiscent of Japanese calligraphy. "Do you now? With people like us, there are many misunderstandings. We don't change into ravenous beasts whenever the full moon is out. We don't fight endless wars among ourselves. Well, if we did, we wouldn't differ greatly from the rest of humanity. Nor do we wish to enslave humanity."

"Or eat people," Amanda crowed from her bed.

"Shush, you," said her uncle. "Enough of this nonsense, you must rest. You're running a slight temperature. Your new governess and I have much to discuss."

"Pooh, I've been resting all morning."

"Go back to bed." As quiet as it might be, the marquis's voice carried enough authority to cow an army.

"I shall return later," Corinna said. "To see if you need company."

"Please," Amanda said. She waved and withdrew behind the frilly draperies.

"Walk a while with me," Demoral said. "There are a few things I must tell you. And even more I must understand about you."

Oh no, you don't.

"Hah, you only wish me to sleep because you want to romance Miss Wolverstoke." From behind the curtain came a cheerful gurgle. "She's soo pretty, isn't she?"

"Amanda. Stop this. At once."

Corinna had a hard time holding in a snort, while his lordship turned unfashionably puce in the face, a color that didn't suit him.

Her stay might be fraught with danger—but she didn't experience that much enjoyment in ages. 

1338 words of 27500

This chapter is dedicated to my dear author friend @elisabethlong  , the author of the wonderful "Midnight Calling". It's amazing, it's lively, funny, and the story is completed!