The Wicked Governess (Blackhaven Brides Book 6)(34)

“I don’t know,” Caroline said doubtfully. “When you held your midnight revel, I wore my own clothes.”

“Well, no one wore their best because we were on the beach,” Serena pointed out. “And besides, at night by the sea, with lit braziers and burning torches all over the place, the children did have to be watched more closely. But I don’t see why you have to play the governess all the time.”

Caroline blinked. “I’m not playing. I am the governess.”

“Will he come?” Serena asked.

Caroline didn’t need to ask who. “I don’t know,” she replied candidly. “But Miss Benedict is eager, and he has no objection to my going, with or without Rosa.” In fact, he hadn’t brought the subject up recently, even in the evenings they spent in his study.

Those evening hours had secretly become Caroline’s favorite part of the day when she sat only feet from him, conversing little, as a rule, but simply soaking up his silent company, his very physical presence as he worked. He drank brandy constantly and yet never seemed inebriated. Nor did his manner to her ever change below the civil. And yet, she surely didn’t imagine the sense of intimacy between them—inappropriate, dangerous, but still unspoken.

Last night, as he’d poured himself another glass of brandy, she’d blurted, “Why do you drink so much? For the pain?”

His eyebrows had flown up and he’d gazed at the glass in his hand, as though wondering how it had got there. His lips twisted. “Old pain and habit. I suppose it dulls the edges.”

“Of pain?”

His gaze had lifted, devouring her. She had never seen such hunger in a man’s eyes. It was dizzying, frightening, and yet wickedly exciting.

A short laugh had broken from him. “Pain, yes. Let us call it that.”

He had sat back down at the desk, the glass by his elbow. But the thrill of that look, of the fierce desire it revealed, still churned inside her.

“What do you think, girls?” Serena asked the children, turning Caroline to face them while still holding the dress material in at the back.

The girls untangled themselves from the yellow gown and regarded Caroline with unexpected awe.

“Why, Miss Grey, you’re beautiful,” Helen said, while Rosa nodded slowly.

“If only I’d known,” Caroline mourned. “So many wasted years! All I’ve ever needed is one of Lady Tamar’s gowns.”

Lady Tamar gave the gown a little twist to tighten it. “Any gown rather than the ones you have. I can’t believe they ever became you.”

“They weren’t meant to,” Caroline said. She’d chosen them, altering them from her mother’s unworn collection, for precisely that reason. She’d thought being plain and dull would mitigate against her youth when looking for a position.

“Well, you were always beautiful,” Serena retorted. “Ugly dresses and severe hairstyles do not disguise the fact. Trust me, you have been noticed,”

Disconcerted, Caroline twisted around to look at her. “By whom?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Serena said hastily. “I merely wish you to know, to make you comfortable going into society in this capacity.”

“I don’t think it does make me comfortable,” Caroline murmured. “I think I will just wear the brown—”

“No!” Serena and Helen exclaimed together, and Caroline laughed self-consciously.

“Come, let’s go and find the others and take a walk…”





Chapter Ten





When she was dressed for Lady Tamar’s party, Caroline took a moment to gaze at herself in the glass. She had pinned her hair in a higher, softer style than usual, and Serena’s peach gown had been altered so that it fit Caroline perfectly. She thought she looked rather well and refused to admit why she cared. Instead, she spent half a second wishing she had some jewelry to set off her fine appearance. The few pieces she’d been given or inherited had been sold long since.

Shrugging, because it truly didn’t matter, she walked through to Rosa’s room and found Rosa sitting cross-legged on the floor in her new dress, playing with Tiny. With a sigh, she chased Tiny and brushed the dog hair off Rosa before accompanying her downstairs to meet her father and aunt.

Rosa was delighted that her father was escorting them and discovering him and her aunt at the foot of the stairs, she ran down to hug him.

At first, Caroline could not bring herself to look at him, afraid of what she might see or not see. Since that moment in the study, she had never again surprised the wild hunger in his eyes, which piqued her far more than it should. She had almost convinced herself it had all been the fevered imagination of a lonely spinster. She tried to focus her attention on Rosa who was now leaping around her aunt, but inevitably, her eyes strayed to the still, tall figure beside them.

Her heart leapt into her throat, for his gaze was rivetted to her, and it was very far from indifferent. It held…wonder.

Her foot faltered on the stairs and he took a step up, offering his hand to steady her. She could not refuse. She didn’t want to. As she laid her hand in his, his strong fingers curled around it, and his gaze dropped to her mouth and lower, deliberately covering her throat and breast, her whole person. And when it returned to her face, the awe had given way to something much more predatory.