The Wicked Governess (Blackhaven Brides Book 6)(38)
“When do you leave for Tamar Abbey?”
“Oh, who knows? We’re not sure about going at all, now.” She walked with them downstairs and sent servants scurrying for their carriage and their cloaks while Miss Benedict fluttered about what a charming time she’d enjoyed and what a kind hostess Lady Tamar was.
“You must call on us when we’re quieter,” Serena invited. “One day next week, perhaps? You are all welcome.”
For Caroline, the world had taken on a strange sense of unreality. Perhaps it was to do with the speed of her heartbeat, with the shrinking of her world into the few people now surrounding her, and her over-sensitive awareness of Javan Benedict beside her.
Handed into the carriage, she again took the seat facing away from the horses, as befitted her lowly position. She didn’t know if the journey would be harder with him beside her, all but touching her, or opposite her where she could see him.
He placed Rosa opposite her and sat beside her once more. Rosa threw herself back in her seat, smiling contentedly at everyone. She took her aunt’s hand and closed her eyes, exhausted by the day’s adventure.
While Miss Benedict chattered, Caroline concentrated with difficulty. Although Mr. Benedict seemed to be leaning the other way to avoid any accidental contact, there seemed to be invisible strings binding her to him. Every nerve, every sense, quivered with awareness.
Only as they finally drove up the neglected road from the gates to the house, did Williams cause the horses to swerve, no doubt to avoid a particularly hideous bump, and Caroline was thrown against Mr. Benedict. There was the shock of his hard shoulder and thigh, his warm hands catching and righting her.
“Sorry!” she gasped.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, no. Are you?”
“Of course not. You’re little heavier than Rosa.”
It was as if he was reminding himself that they were not alone. Tension coiled inside her. She couldn’t help but speculate as to what would have happened if they were alone. She wondered how he would kiss when not soaked to the skin and terrified he’d hurt her in a dream…
No, no, and no!
The carriage pulled up at the front of the hall. Mr. Benedict leapt out almost before the horses had stilled and handed down his sister and Caroline. When she stole a glance at him, his eyes seemed to burn, but it might have been the fault of the carriage lanterns and the light blazing from the open front door. She hurried up the steps while Mr. Benedict swung Rosa out—in a huge arc judging by the child’s joyous gasp.
“Are you hungry?” Caroline asked Rosa as they entered the house. “Shall I ask Cook to bring something up to the schoolroom before bed?”
Rosa shook her head and ran for the stairs. She needed some time alone after her unprecedented companionship that day.
“I’ll come in shortly,” Caroline called, beginning to follow her.
“A word with you first, Miss Grey, if you please,” Benedict said abruptly.
Obediently, she took her foot off the step and followed him as he snatched up a candle and limped speedily toward the study.
He knows. He’s going to send me away, or tell me off in some unbearably humiliating way…
Knows what? she answered herself aggressively. There was nothing to know.
He opened the study door. The fire was lit and another glow emanated from a lamp near the desk. That was all she saw before he kicked the door shut behind her and seized her in his arms. His mouth came down hard on her gasping lips, kissing her with a strength and desperation she’d never imagined.
When she could do more than hang in his arms, shock melting into hot, thrilling pleasure, she struggled to free her hands, which were pinned to her side. At once, his grip loosened, but she only flung her arms up around his neck, drawing him back to her, and he pulled her flush against his body, ravishing her mouth with long, invasive kisses.
Devastated, aroused beyond belief, she dug her fingers into his hair, stroked the rough skin of his face and the jagged line of his scar. She kissed him back with ever increasing urgency—though for what, where it was all leading, her befuddled mind neither knew nor cared.
Without conscious volition, she rubbed herself against him like a kitten. When his caressing hand found her breast, she let out a moan of delight and need.
“Christ, Caroline,” he whispered. “Have you any idea how much I want you? Here and now?” He gave her no time to reply but buried his mouth in hers once more, lifting her right off her feet in his passion.
Beyond the study, a continuous knocking grew louder and more imperious, gradually breaking through Caroline’s haze of blissful desire. Abruptly, the knocking stopped and voices could be heard in the hall, talking loudly.
Benedict’s lips stilled. She opened her eyes, staring into his.
He raised his head very slowly. “I think…you might just have been saved. But damn and blast him to hell, whoever he is. Wait there. Better still, run to your room and lock the door. All the doors.” He pressed another quick, hard kiss on her mouth and released her.
He threw open the study door and strode up the hall with his uneven gait.
“I insist on seeing your master this instant,” came an imperious male voice. “Of course, he has not retired. The man never sleeps!”
Caroline, who had never had any intention of obeying him in this, followed him with her heart in her mouth. She wondered if it was the man who’d fled the castle party at sight of him.