Gambling for the Governess: A Victorian Romance (The Seven Curses of London Book 9)

by Lana Williams

  “Humph.”

  Amelia looked at Miss Singh, noting the disgruntled look on her face and did her best to hide a smile. The woman had returned to the schoolroom with her books to share details about India the previous day, but the session hadn’t gone well from what little the children had told her.

  Miss Singh hadn’t advised Amelia of the visit even though Amelia had asked her to. Amelia had welcomed her anyway. Then the woman had dismissed her. Amelia should’ve simply moved to her desk and worked there or at least pretended to. Instead, she went to her room to pace until Sally had come to fetch her a short time later.

  Miss Singh had already left by the time Amelia returned to the schoolroom, but the children told her they hadn’t enjoyed the lesson. Miss Singh hadn’t told them anything interesting, according to Ronald. Nor had she appreciated their questions, claiming the interruptions muddled her thoughts.

  “Did you say something, dear?” Lady Beaumont asked her friend.

  She eyed Charlotte and Ronald. “They’re not always well behaved.”

  Lady Beaumont waved her hand in dismissal. “They’re children. They’re not supposed to be.”

  Charlotte and Ronald smiled at their aunt as if grateful for her support.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” The countess studied Amelia before conversing with the children, asking them additional questions about the zoo.

  “Perhaps you should join us next time we go,” Ronald suggested.

  “Perhaps I shall.” The woman smiled at Amelia. “I am so pleased the viscount joined you. He needs more entertainment in his life.”

  Her tone had Amelia wondering if the woman suspected there was more to her relationship with Christopher than governess and employer. Amelia hoped not. Her feelings for him were too new and still fragile. Though he knew the truth about her background, she could only imagine how others would react if they knew she’d served as a maid.

  Despite her concern, Amelia liked the countess. She spoke to the children with genuine interest and enjoyment, which so few adults did. What might it be like to have other ladies call upon her to share tea and conversation? To pay visits to them? She hadn’t had such dreams since her youth.

  Amelia was just beginning to relax when the countess’s attention shifted to her once again. “What of your parents, Miss Tippin. Might I know them?”

  “My father, Sir Albert Tippin, passed away when I was twelve years of age. My mother was a vicar’s daughter who now lives on the outskirts of London.” Amelia pushed away the image of the stark room of the lodging house, wishing she could afford to rent her something better.

  “I can’t say I’m familiar with them.” Her attention shifted to the children. “I’m pleased these two are in your capable hands. They are growing so fast.” Grief came over her expression despite her smile.

  “Indeed,” Lady Beaumont agreed.

  “Viscount Beaumont’s mother and I were dear friends in our youth,” the countess added. “I miss her still.”

  “As do I.” The deep voice had Amelia turning to see Christopher at the door.

  Her heart raced at the sight of him. The bruises on his cheek were less noticeable, but he looked tired and discouraged, making her long to ask what had happened.

  She kept her hands clasped before her with the hope that her physical reaction to his presence wasn’t noticeable. His gaze held hers for a long moment then shifted to the countess.

  “It’s good to see you.” He walked forward and kissed the cheek she offered. “How kind of you to call.”

  “I wanted to see the children and when your father mentioned the new governess,” she gestured toward Amelia, “I wanted to meet her as well.”

  Christopher’s focus lingered on Amelia again before he greeted his aunt and Miss Singh. Then his attention turned to the children. “You escaped your lessons for a few minutes to visit with the countess, eh?” he asked with a wink. “How clever of you.”

  Charlotte giggled. “We like our lessons, Uncle.”

  “You do?” Christopher asked with exaggerated surprise. “Is that true, Ronald?”

  “Well, not all of them.” Ronald glanced up at Amelia with the look of concern as if afraid he’d hurt her feelings. “But most of them are fine.”

  Amelia had to smile. She hoped he kept his honesty even when he grew older.

  Lady Beaumont laughed. “It’s good to know Miss Tippin hasn’t bewitched you completely.”

  To Amelia’s surprise, Christopher looked at her again, something in the depths of his green eyes causing her breath to catch. She did her best to keep a polite mask on her face. It would never do to reveal to anyone how much she cared for him.

  “She has us all under her spell.” Then he looked away and stepped close to tousle Ronald’s hair. “I believe your remarks are a significant improvement over what you had to say about the previous governess and her lessons.”

  The conversation continued and Amelia kept her attention on the children or the others and avoided looking directly at Christopher as much as possible.

  The countess gave her several sidelong glances but said little else directly to her as the topic shifted to people and functions she knew nothing about, making her goal of ignoring Christopher a little easier.

  “Did you speak to my father?” Christopher asked the countess as Lady Beaumont and Miss Singh discussed the previous evening’s musicale with each other.

  “Yes, we visited for several minutes. He seems well.”

  Christopher nodded. “He’s been doing quite well of late.” He looked at Amelia as if to see if she agreed.

  She gave him a brief nod but didn’t add more to the conversation. That would hardly be her place. Yet she could see the questions in the countess’s eyes.

  “What of your other grandparents?” the countess asked the children.

  A shadow passed over Christopher’s expression as Charlotte and Ronald looked at him as if uncertain how to answer. “Unfortunately, the children haven’t seen them for some time.”

  Ronald looked up at him. “Maybe they don’t love us anymore.”

  The urge to comfort him came over Amelia, but she bit her lip, not wanting to say anything. Hopefully, Christopher would know what to say, because she certainly didn’t.

  “Perhaps at some date in the future, we hope they’ll visit,” Christopher said.

  But Amelia wanted him to say more. How terrible to think Ronald and Charlotte might believe their grandparents didn’t love them. That meant not only had they lost their parents but their grandparents as well. That was too much for two young children to endure.

  “Don’t think for a moment that it has anything to do with you,” he continued at last, his words easing the tightness in her chest. “They are still grieving, as we all are, but they focus on the past and what they lost rather than on the future and what is still to come. Don’t give up on them.”

  Charlotte nodded. “We won’t.”

  “Why don’t I ring for tea?” Christopher asked.

  “And biscuits,” Ronald added.

  “Excellent idea.” Lady Beaumont patted the boy’s shoulder.

  “Perhaps we should return to our lessons,” Amelia suggested.

  Christopher looked at her in surprise. “Surely, you can stay for a little longer.”

  Amelia glanced at Lady Beaumont and the countess, certain they’d prefer to carry on without her and the children.

  “Please stay,” Lady Beaumont said. “I’m certain the countess would like to visit with the children more, and so would I. I haven’t seen much of them of late.”

  “Of course.” Amelia was surprised.

  “The children mentioned you and Miss Tippin took them to the zoo,” the countess said to Christopher.

  “That was an entertaining outing, wasn’t it, children?” Christopher asked. “We saw nearly every animal and rodent and reptile the zoo has to offer.”

  “Rodents and reptiles?” The countess gave a mock shudder. “Why would you want to
look at those?”

  As Ronald described the reasons he’d enjoyed it, Amelia couldn’t hold back a smile. His enthusiasm was charming. Even the countess seemed to understand his fascination with snakes by the time he was done.

  Dauber delivered the tea along with extra sandwiches and biscuits, the sight of which had Ronald’s eyes widening with glee.

  Amelia watched to make certain he didn’t pile his plate high and was proud of the restraint he showed by taking only a few of the items offered. He set his plate on his lap then looked up at her as if to make certain he had done it correctly. She gave him a nod to show her approval.

  Charlotte was quite delicate with her treats and watched the countess, mimicking how she ate her sandwich. Lady Beaumont poured tea for everyone and the conversation continued.

  Amelia didn’t often have the chance for adult conversations other than the few times she dined with Christopher and the earl so she enjoyed listening.

  The countess was a natural storyteller and interesting to listen to. She had recently attended several events and her description of them and the people who were there was highly entertaining. She even had the children chuckling with her stories.

  Amelia tried to imagine what some of the parties might be like. She’d never attended anything like what the countess described. Her parents had socialized very little since money had been tight.

  One of the other maids at the academy had worked at a lord’s house and spoke of some of the events she’d witnessed. From the food to the dresses to the dancing, Amelia could only guess what it would be like. Longing twisted her heart for things that could never be.

  Her gaze slid to Christopher. She released a quiet sigh at the thought of dancing with him. That would be a wondrous moment. She forced her attention back to the conversation only to realize the countess studied her far too closely. Amelia quickly averted her gaze but feared it was too late to fool the countess.

  ~*~

  That evening, Amelia turned in her bed once more. She couldn’t get comfortable. She blamed it on the look the countess had given her as if she suspected Amelia’s growing feelings for Christopher. Surely she wasn’t the first governess to admire her employer. Though she knew nothing could happen between them, that didn’t keep her from dreaming about it. From wondering what if...

  Since she had yet to fall asleep, such dreams weren’t possible. She should be grateful for that.

  She adjusted her pillow, punching it several times before laying back down. With renewed determination, she closed her eyes and focused on slowing her breathing. But the image of Christopher had her eyes popping open once again.

  With a sigh, she sat up and lit the candle on the bedside table. This would never do. She needed rest in order to teach the children tomorrow. But her thoughts kept re-living the afternoon’s conversation. She couldn’t help but wonder what the countess thought of her despite how friendly she’d been. Did she pity her? Think her silly?

  No matter how many times she told herself it didn’t matter, somehow it did.

  She tossed aside the covers and rose. What she needed was something to take her mind off her thoughts. A good book perhaps.

  She reached for her robe at the end of the bed, pulled it on and tightened the sash around her before sliding into her slippers. The house had been quiet for some time. It was too early for Christopher’s return from wherever he’d been, and the children had been tucked in their beds for hours. She had no idea what the earl might be up to but assumed he would be in his rooms. That should leave the coast clear for her to borrow a book from the library.

  Moving as quietly as possible, she descended the stairs to the entrance hall with a candlestick in hand, smiling at the sleepy footman who dozed in a chair near the front door, then continued toward the library.

  Coals still glowed in the hearth but not brightly enough to select a book. She lifted her candle higher, trying to decide what subject would put her to sleep.

  War tactics? Farming techniques? Poetry? No. What she really wanted was a mystery that would truly capture her interest. To her delight, she found a shelf filled with several. She selected one and set her candle on the table to read the opening page to make certain it suited her.

  Several moments passed before she realized she heard a voice. Her breath quickened when she realized it was Christopher. Would he come to the library? She froze, uncertain whether to replace the book, grab her candle and leave or—

  The door opened before she could make a decision, and Christopher filled the space.

  “Amelia?” he said in surprise.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I was going to borrow a book.” She held it up even as his gaze swept over her attire, making her entire body stiffen.

  His dark hair was tousled as if he’d mussed it when he’d removed his hat. His loosened cravat hung at his neck, giving him a casual appearance. Something about that made her pulse pound.

  “Not at all,” he said as he drew closer. “You are welcome to use the library anytime.”

  His gaze lingered on her hair, making her realize he’d never seen it down before. She touched the loose braid with its tail hanging over her shoulder tied with the red ribbon, self-conscious about her state of undress. The book she clutched against her chest did little to lessen her embarrassment.

  “Did you have a good evening?” she asked to draw his attention to something else. But his gaze held on her with such intensity that butterflies erupted in her stomach even as her mouth went dry.

  “It was satisfactory,” he said. He stepped closer until he stood less than an arm’s length away.

  Her nostrils filled with his scent, a combination of the outdoors, sandalwood, and a unique scent that was his own. She’d recognize it anywhere. Oh dear. Its effect on her was alarming.

  “How was your evening?” he asked, his quiet voice lending to the air of intimacy.

  “I had dinner with your father,” she said. “It sounds as if he’s nearly worked through the kinks in his latest invention.”

  Christopher’s brows rose in surprise. “He spoke with you about it?”

  She nodded. “Not in detail, just the basics. I think telling me about it helps him work through whatever problem he’s encountered.”

  Christopher shook his head. “That shouldn’t surprise me as I find myself speaking to you about my problems as well.”

  “I’ve been told that I’m a good listener,” she said with a smile, remembering the evening both father and son had told her that. Why did it seem like a lifetime ago?

  “Indeed, you are.” He reached out and ran his fingers along the length of her braid. “So soft.”

  Awareness curled through her body, flooding her with heat. She told herself to take a step back. To take the candle and her book and return to her room as quickly as possible. But her feet didn’t move. She could only look up at him, admiring the long sweep of his lashes, the shimmering green of his eyes, the strong line of his jaw. She couldn’t have walked away if she tried.

  “I was just thinking of you, and now here you are like a wish come true.” His deep voice caused the spark that had lit at his touch to ignite to life.

  “Oh?” The temptation to share that she’d been thinking of him as well crossed her mind, but she clenched her jaw tight determined not to let the information out. That would not aid her at all. She was a governess. Nothing more.

  “I find myself consumed with thoughts of you.”

  Before she had time to process that confession, he bent until his lips were a breath away from hers. Longing swept through her with such a tingling force that it lifted her onto her toes, and she pressed her lips against his. She hadn’t realized she was capable of acting so brazenly. But at that moment, she embraced it. Regrets could wait until the morrow.

  His lips were cool from the evening air but soon warmed as they pressed against hers. She felt his hand along the side of her face, his fingers warm and strong. Then he drew back. “Amelia?” he whispered.


  “Yes?”

  “I should very much like to kiss you again.”

  Her heart caught. It was as if he wished to make certain she wanted this moment with him despite her impulsive move. He gave her a chance to make certain this was what she wanted when few others would bother. But the choice had been made the moment he’d stepped into the room. She couldn’t resist him.

  “I’d like that very much.”

  Rather than draw her into his arms as she’d expected, he tipped his forehead against hers and drew a long slow breath, his hand along her cheek also connecting them. As if he anticipated the moment.

  That only made her want his kiss more.

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead, to her temple, and then took her mouth with his. This kiss carried heat and passion that quickly wove her under his spell. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she parted them in surprise. Then as his tongue swept into her mouth, he wrapped his arms around her as if he’d never let her go.

  She met the fierceness of his kiss with heat of her own, wanting more of whatever this madness was.

  He released her with one arm to pull the book from her hands and set it on a nearby table alongside the candle she’d left sitting there. Then he drew her fully into his embrace.

  This was much better she realized through a haze of passion. The barrier of their clothing felt like nothing at all. She ran her hands over his broad shoulders, unable to resist touching his hair, delighted by its softness. His groan suggested he appreciated her efforts, and she ran a finger inside the loose collar of his shirt, touching his warm skin.

  His slight shudder made her deepen the kiss, wanting to give him as much as he gave her. Her body filled with need as the kiss continued. He released his hands from her waist and moved to her hips. The feel of his warm fingers through her thin robe and nightgown made her breasts tighten. She had never felt this sort of desire and had no idea what to do with it.

  Though she reminded herself of the distance between them—a lord and a governess—and that this man had the power to hurt her, she wanted more. He could easily break her heart. The thought had her pulling back.