The Secret Desires of a Governess (16 page)

“You’ll rest today,” he said. “Tomorrow we’ll set you up for lessons downstairs.”

“I can’t stay in my room all day. I’ll die of boredom staring at the walls.”

The side of his mouth kicked up in a brief grin. How was it amusing that she’d be whiling away her day abed?

She’d not spent a day solely in her bed since she was a child. And even then she couldn’t recall a day where she’d done that!

“You can’t mean I’m to stay in my room?”

“It would serve you right and teach you to stop wandering the castle at odd hours.”

“You’ve been watching me.” He wouldn’t know her odd morning hours unless that was the truth.

It was proof enough when he did not answer her question.

“Have you any idea who might have wanted to harm me?” she asked.

“No. And I don’t think it wise to advertise that fact quite yet.”

“Will we mention this to the rest of the house hold?”

He shook his head. “No need to worry them. It could have happened by chance, someone camping near the castle or in one of the hidden grottoes startled by your presence. Everyone on staff has worked here for longer than I can remember. I rather doubt it was one of them.”

“I have to agree. Makes little sense to want to rid yourself of a governess when you can’t keep them here to begin with.”

Her comment was a poor attempt at humor. And it made her think . . . what if this had happened to the past governesses? Could there be some unsavory character lurking around the castle unknown all these years? Could Elliott be mistaken in that it was someone he knew and trusted who had wanted Abby to meet her maker today?

“I’ll call Lydia up to help you dress and do whatever else you women do in the morning.” She was caught off guard by the quick change of subject. “Tell her to find me when you’re ready to be settled downstairs.”

At least he didn’t argue with her desire to still be useful despite her injury.

He turned away, intent on leaving her. She should have let him walk away. But she didn’t want to see the back of him quite yet. Why did she want his company? He was not an easy companion.

”You are so eager to leave me in the hands of Lydia after your earlier show of worry?”

He did not turn to face her as he spoke in a low somber voice. “I’m trying to do the right thing and walk away.” Was he truly afraid she might reject him again?

“Earlier . . . I’m sorry.”

“I am not the least bit sorry Please . . . don’t walk away.”

He turned to her with a quizzical look on his face. “For the devil in me, I can’t figure you out, Miss Hallaway.”

Nor I you.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one fighting his unruly desires.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked. If they couldn’t control their lusts, perhaps she should leave. Though it would kill her a little inside to leave Jacob behind.

“And go where?” There was a thread of worry in his voice. She breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t want her gone from the castle.

“I’m not without connections. I could easily find another position.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t want you to leave.”

When winter thawed and spring waned into summer a lone guard, near to his death with a knife wound that had festered at his chest, found his way back to his king with word of the prince on his dying breath.

`—The Dragon of Brahmors

After installing Miss Hallaway in the parlor, Elliott went in search of his son. The boy had disappeared when it had become apparent that the governess was indisposed in the first hours of the day. But, vexing and stubborn as ever, Miss Hallaway had insisted on him retrieving Jacob and bringing him to her.

Damnable woman. She’d crawled right under his skin.

She made him want something that could never be his.

Namely her. She was his son’s governess. She was under his employ and protection.

He couldn’t offer her marriage as was the right thing to do after the intimacies they’d shared. No. Wright men had no luck where women were concerned.

And he could admit, he liked Miss Hallaway far too much to put her in the same predicament as the women who’d been mistress of the castle as far back as his great-grandmother’s time. All had died too young. None had been happy. Most had displayed some type of madness before their death.

Yet he couldn’t bring their dalliance to an end. Not yet.

Was this the first of many accidents to come? His wife had met with similar events on many occasions, but he’d always thought them of her own making and imagination.

None of her accidents were so dire as being pushed from the parapet wall.

It was frustrating that he hadn’t found evidence of an intruder in the castle. Something seemed off about this morning.

But who would wish Miss Hallaway harm? Could it be someone from her past? Could some unsavory character have followed her here? Was that why she’d chosen a place so far from everything and everyone she knew?

Well, damned if he knew what in hell was going on.

He’d locked all the passageway doors as he’d walked the grounds and tunnels. They were now barred from everyone without a key, and he was the only one who held those particular keys. Access to those tunnels wouldn’t matter to anyone living in the castle, since they rarely made use of the older passageways.

Whoever the intruder was, they had obviously used those old narrow tunnels. There was no other way to get up to the parapet wall undetected. Although the hour had been early, the sun yet to rise . . . Who was to say the intruder hadn’t come through any of the three gates leading into the castle?

Perhaps it would be safer to send Miss Hallaway to another posting or back to her sisters.

Whom would it be safer for, though? Him? Jacob? The rest of the staff who hadn’t an inkling as to what had transpired this morning?

Despite the desire he felt for her, he actually wanted to spend time with her just for the sake of being in her company. And that put him in a damnable spot.

The stable door was slightly ajar. A sure sign his son was hiding away here.

His son spoke in a low voice. The words not really words, but sounds. What was Jacob doing? Climbing the ladder up to the hayloft, Elliott slowed his steps to listen to his son.

“. . . Pa h — pu h — pu h . . . ra — re — ra — r a se —ranse . . . purah—prah—prase. Pranse.”

There was a question in his son’s soft voice. Then a huff of frustration followed by the word stupid. Elliott stuck his head up above the landing, his curiosity piqued.

His son hadn’t noticed his presence as he focused on the book that lay open in his lap.

Elliott felt like he was falling from reality, from everything he thought he knew and understood. His hands gripped the end of the wooden landing until his fingers turned white from the pressure.

His son was reading.

Attempting to learn the words on the page, all on his own. Up to this point, Elliott had never seen his son holding a book. Had never seen Jacob try to read or write anything on paper.

“Prince. Prince!” Jacob shouted, finally making sense of the word that had clearly eluded him for some time.

Jacob looked up— with a smile that showed all the teeth in his mouth— and the excitement drained from his face at being caught. He slammed the book shut and held it behind his back as he got quickly to his feet.

For what reason did Jacob hide the book from him?

He’d never given the boy reason to believe reading wasn’t a desirable trait. In fact, this was extraordinary. Unexpected and wonderful.

They’d never talked about reading. Elliott had made sure never to reveal his weakness, his inability to his son.

Had he been wrong to do so? Did that make him a bad father? It wasn’t as though he could teach Jacob the alphabet or help him to read.

Elliott rested his arms along the landing and stared at Jacob, intrigued.

They were of an image; Jacob hadn’t taken after his mother in any way. Well, perhaps there was one way in which he was similar to his mother. The boy had just shown an aptitude for words that Elliott had never possessed.

It upset Elliott that his son felt any need to hide such a development from him and from Miss Hallaway. Why couldn’t his son confide this secret in him? Jacob had regaled him with tales of Miss Hallaway’s teaching tactics, but had never said a word about his reading. Elliott might never have known if not for accidentally coming upon him.

“Miss Hallaway has done well with your lessons,” he said. He had no intention of ignoring the fact that his son was learning in leaps and bounds.

“I didn’t mean to take it,” Jacob blurted out.

So that was the reason for his odd behavior.

“The book is as much yours as it is mine. My mother wrote it, told me that I could be the dragon.” Though he only vaguely remembered the story and he couldn’t remember why his mother had told him that. He was sure it had been important all those years ago. “I remember when she sent it to London to be bound. She told me a friend of hers had illustrated all the beautiful pictures for me.”

“I can keep it? You won’t tell Miss Hallaway I took it?”

“Your secret is safe with me. And speaking of Miss Hallaway, she’s still set on lessons today.” That seemed to put a small smile back on his son’s face. “She’s in the morning parlor. Will you come back to the house with me?

Or do you need a moment to collect your things?” Elliott nodded, indicating the book.

Jacob turned away from him, lifted a loose floorboard, and pulled out a ragged gray cloth. Carefully wrapping up the book, he knelt on the floor to hide it in the nook before setting the wooden plank back in place.

“For what reason does it remain hidden?”

“Just till I can learn all the words. It’s a surprise for Miss Hallaway.”

For Miss Hallaway. Good Lord, his boy adored the woman probably as much as he did.

The first thing Elliott planned to do when he returned to the house was find a nicer cloth to protect the leather-bound book. He’d give it to his son when Miss Hallaway wasn’t around.

Stepping down the ladder, he waited for Jacob to follow him, pride filling him like a refreshing breath of air.

Perhaps he wasn’t a complete failure where his son was concerned. Not that he’d take any credit for the current strides. No, this was all Miss Hallaway’s doing. It made Elliott want to pick her up and

swing her around so he could share the joy he felt. To kiss her soundly on the mouth and tell her that he could adore no woman more.

He scratched at his jaw. That wouldn’t do. Not at all.

He was supposed to talk himself out of liking her so damn much.

Abby gave a cheery smile, not wanting to worry Jacob unnecessarily with her leg perched up on a pillow, wrapped snugly in strips of linen Lydia had torn up for her. Her injury probably looked far worse than it really was.

Elliott followed closely behind, but stopped just inside the door.

“Good morning, young master.”

She nodded in the direction of Elliott. Aside from that small ac knowledgment of his presence, it took everything in Abby to not look directly at him. It took every bit of her concentration to focus on Jacob and not hope to catch Elliott’s eye. But she desperately wanted to read the thoughts in his gaze. She wondered if he regretted that they’d pleasured each other. Regretted that they couldn’t seem to keep their hands to themselves whenever they found themselves ensconced in a room alone.

“What’s happened to you, Miss Hallaway?”

Jacob stood frozen in the entry next to his father. Elliott seemed more at ease than she. She hated him a little for that. How unfair that he could compose himself when she felt ragged and confused by all the events of the day.

It probably would have been smarter to rest the remainder of the day, but she could not lie abed doing nothing. There were unexplained happenings in the house hold and a mystery for her to solve. And solve it she would.

The whole time she’d been trying to make polite conversation with Lydia, she had been wondering about her fall. Did she pose some sort of threat? Had someone noticed her growing attachment to Elliott and despised the fact that she was the hired help? It certainly seemed that no one had noticed them together. They’d been careful.

Both had been more intent on ignoring and avoiding each other than anything else over the past week. Or so she had thought.

Elliott bowed and left the room.

Worry was evident in Jacob’s expression as he came forward.

“I took a tumble. My own fault for not watching where I walked.”

Jacob looked worried enough for her welfare that she didn’t want to distress him with so much as a hint of the truth of her morning jaunt.

When he still didn’t speak to her, she said, “Our lessons will be decidedly less exciting now that we’ll be confined to the house for the next few days.”

“I don’t mind.” He sat on the cushion at the end of the window seat, staring down at her elevated leg with wide eyes.

He would mind once he realized they’d have to tackle his language studies while stuck indoors. In fact, they’d mostly focus on his reading and writing and less on the subjects he favored.

“I need you to retrieve my journal.” Which she used solely for outlining Jacob’s lessons. “A few pencils and your writing things.”

Jacob’s nose scrunched, causing the skin to wrinkle between his eyes, but he stood without so much as a grumble and did her bidding.

Maybe she’d have him remembering the whole alphabet if they worked diligently over the next few days.

Jacob came back into the room. He carried her lettered cards, too. When she’d first shown him those cards, he’d told her that he’d never seen a lot of the animals she’d painted, aside from the ones that lived near the castle. Abby could guess picture books held little value to the child since he had never been taught to read the simple words associated with the paintings.

“Thank you.” She reached out for the cards and other items she’d requested. “We still haven’t found the fable of the dragon prince, have we?”

He shook his head and pulled a chair over to where she was perched in the window seat.

“I will do the math lessons you wrote out later, miss.”

She grinned at Jacob. Had she known she’d have his complete cooperation now that she was confined to a bench, she might have been tempted to do herself damage some days ago. It might have saved them both from some aggravation where his language studies were concerned.

Abby shuffled her lettered cards to mix the order. The first she pulled an e, the bird depicted a confection of tawny brown feathers, long legs, long neck, and big beady amber eyes.

“Emu,” Jacob replied easily. There were only a few letters that mixed him up now that he’d been through the cards a handful of times over the past week.

“Very good, now write it down on your board and fl ip it so I can see it.”

He tilted the board toward himself and scratched out the letter with chalk before turning it back to her.

“Excellent. Do you remember the lowercase lettering?”

Without answering, he spun the board around and did as she requested. When he showed her his work, the letter was reversed. She’d not reprimand him for it. What mattered was that he tried, even knowing he was making mistakes.

The good majority of his letters were reversed. She’d noticed that habit of his over the past week. Surely it was common to someone learning language and grasping all its nuances for the first time.

“That’ll do,” she said. “What other words do you think start with the letter e?”

And their lesson went on the remainder of the morning.

Elliott visited her when Jacob left to retrieve luncheon for them both.

“I am relieved to see you,” she told him. Elliott paused just inside the door, one eyebrow raised in question. “Lydia helped me to my feet earlier.”

“The doctor suggested you stay off your feet.”

She snorted at that. It was impossible to stay sitting when the maid kept plying her with tea to help with her constitution.

“I will not remain idle for the next few days. I grow ill from being constantly indoors. Could you help me around the grounds for a breath of fresh air after Jacob and I have had something to eat? I really do feel overly confined having to sit here all day. Especially now that the sun has come out.”

She thought he’d refuse her. Instead he surprised her by saying, “Once around the bailey, then you are to stay indoors for the remainder of the night.”

She smiled her appreciation and was about to ask what she’d do to keep herself occupied come evening when Jacob entered the room with Lydia and two serving trays laden with simple fare.

Lydia curtsied on seeing his lordship. The girl bit her lip and said, “There’s not enough for a proper meal for the three of you. Let me retrieve another dish of sweetmeats.”

Lord Brendall looked as though he had planned to leave. Instead he nodded toward the maid. “Yes, I’ll be taking this meal with my son.”

Abby thought Elliott never dined with his son, especially for the midday meal. Her suspicion was confirmed when Lydia paused, looked back to his lordship with stunned shock coloring her expression before she left the three of them alone in the parlor.