The Wicked Governess (Blackhaven Brides Book 6)(39)

Chapter Eleven





She’d almost caught up with him by the time he rounded the corner into the main entrance hall.

He swore under his breath. “Richard,” he said aloud. “What the devil do you want?”

The visitor, a gentleman in a smart, many caped driving coat, spun around. He was a handsome man, his dark hair cut fashionably short. His face broke into a grin. “There you are, Javan, gracious as ever. Since you ask, a bed for the night would be appreciated. And a shipload of brandy. Companionship in drinking the same is optional.”

Benedict let out a short bark of laughter and strode forward with his hand held out. “You are a glutton for punishment.”

The two men clasped hands warmly. Caroline, relieved to see that this was a friend, would have crept away at this point, but over Benedict’s shoulder, the newcomer saw her.

His eyes widened. Dropping Benedict’s hand, he walked toward her. “Surely not the second Mrs. Benedict?” he exclaimed.

“No, sir, the first governess,” she replied tartly, although she softened the words with a curtsey.

“Are you, by God?” the visitor said, his gaze raking her. Too late, she wondered about the state of her hair after those wild minutes in Javan Benedict’s arms. And, of course, she still wore Lady Tamar’s altered gown. “I never saw a governess like you before.”

“There is not another like her,” Benedict said shortly, moving forward to stand protectively between them. “This is Miss Grey,” he introduced her, “who joined us from the Earl of Braithwaite’s household. Miss Grey, this, sadly, is my cousin, another Mr. Benedict.”

His laughing eyes alight with curiosity, the newcomer bowed to her.

“Javan?” came Miss Benedict’s voice from the staircase. “Who was knocking so loudly? Is someone here?”

“No, it’s only Richard,” Javan replied.

“Richard who?” Miss Benedict demanded.

Richard Benedict sighed. “How quickly one is forgotten, even by family,” he mourned.

“Cousin Richard,” Javan said dryly.

“Richard!” Miss Benedict exclaimed. “Goodness, how are you? What brings you here? Come up and tell me everything! I’ll ring for a cold supper…”

“What of little Rosa?” Richard asked as he walked toward the staircase with his cousin. “Is she well?”

“Better,” Javan said. “But she’s had a busy day. You’ll see her tomorrow…unless she wants to join us? Miss Grey, perhaps you’d go and see? Bring her to the drawing room if you think she’s up to it.”

Caroline bowed her head in acknowledgement. She was the governess. Whatever had provoked the madness in the study, it was over as if it had never been. And it never should have been. They had both forgotten themselves.

Silently, she hurried past them, upstairs and along the passage to the schoolroom.

*

For Javan, just at first, it almost felt like his military days again, dealing with several crises at once. His blood, already on fire from holding and kissing Caroline, flowed faster, and he had to think on his feet. But of course, there were no enemies here but his baser instincts, and no one was going to die.

The intrusion of Richard at that precise moment had seemed unbearable, and he had truly considered sending him about his business, before shame brought him back to his senses. It was true he’d come here to escape everyone who knew him, but Richard was more than family. He’d been his friend for as long as he could remember.

So, while Marjorie chattered and fussed over her order for a cold supper to be set up in the drawing room, he pulled himself together and found he was glad to see Richard.

As for Caroline…this between them had been building all day. All week. Since he’d first seen her, really. God knew there was more to the attraction than being too long without a woman. She was not simply any woman who’d seemed to notice him. She was not even simply a beautiful woman—although today in her fine gown with her hair in that softer style, she had shone. He had not been the only man who’d noticed, either…

But there was something about her that had got under his skin. Her stillness that seemed to radiate calm and comfort. Her wit, the way she understood his jokes… And the way her breasts rose and fell when he came near her. She was not frightened and she was not indifferent. There was passion in her he longed to explore, for she excited him as no woman ever had.

As if his thoughts had drawn her, she walked into the drawing room with Rosa, who ran at once to Richard. Clearly, she remembered him with affection. Richard caught her and swung her high into the air as he’d done when she was tiny, and Javan couldn’t help smiling.

Caroline—he couldn’t think of her as Miss Grey any more, not after she’d kissed him like that, caressed him with her delectable little body—turned to go.

Stay!

Fortunately, he didn’t bark the word aloud. To everyone else, she had to appear merely Rosa’s governess. Even though there had never been anything mere about Miss Caroline Grey.

“Oh, don’t leave, Miss Grey,” Marjorie said. “Stay and drink tea with us and have a little supper.”

She looked around, as though searching for a place at the back of the room, as far away from everyone else as possible. And yet, Javan knew she’d occasionally kept Marjorie company here—only when Marjorie requested it, of course, she never presumed. No doubt experience and humiliating accusations of encroachment had taught her that. Or perhaps it was just her character. She gave everyone room and yet would always be there when needed. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew that, but he did.