More Than a Governess

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘No.’ He pulled her into his arms, wrapping his body around her. ‘No, but you will soon.’

  Juliana lay very still, cocooned in the warmth of the very male body pressed against her own. She could tell by his steady, regular breathing that Damon was asleep. It was very pleasant, to be sure, but she was nagged by a vague sense of disappointment. On several occasions her feelings had threatened to overwhelm her, and when Damon had kissed her she had been obliged to fight to prevent herself from yielding to him, but now she had done so, and there had been a brief moment of pleasure, but surely it was a very small reward that hardly satisfied the terrible, aching love she felt for Damon. His breath tickled her cheek and she snuggled closer against him. She was very innocent, she knew that, and Damon had told her she would understand soon. She would have to trust him, she thought drowsily.

  It was still dark when she woke again. She was still wrapped in Damon’s arms, but something was different about the body that lay entwined with hers: he was aroused. Gently she shifted her position, turning on her side until she was face to face with him. She could not see his eyes, but she guessed that he was awake. Her hand snaked up around his neck and she moved her head to kiss him gently. Immediately his arms tightened about her. The gentle kiss became a long, languorous one. She felt his tongue flicker against her own and the sensation sent ripples of excitement down through her body. Damon’s hands began to caress her, gently moving over her ribs and into the deep curve of her waist, then down over the swell of her hip and once again those long, sensitive fingers moved between her thighs, sliding into her and moving with tantalising slowness while an aching wave of desire was slowly building within her. She began to move restlessly on the bed, her breath coming in short gasps and still the desire was growing. She groaned, unwilling and unable to escape those teasing fingers that were rousing such exquisite feelings. Suddenly she knew the wave of desire was about to break, and at that moment Damon shifted his weight to lie above her. She lifted her hips to receive him and felt him moving within her, rousing her to a fever of excitement so that she matched him move for move and she cried out, arching her back and digging her fingers into his skin as he held her at the crest of the wave before she subsided on a sobbing, shuddering sigh.

  Damon collapsed beside her and she clung to him, saying impulsively, ‘Oh, thank you!’

  ‘I take it that was better?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I never knew—’

  He laughed softly and kissed the tip of her nose. ‘No, how could you?’

  ‘Did—did you enjoy it too?’ she asked shyly.

  ‘Very much.’

  ‘You are sure?’ She frowned in the darkness. ‘You spent so much time giving me pleasure, there must be more for you—’

  He kissed her.

  ‘There will be many other nights, my darling, when we will spend hours pleasuring each other. Now, though, you must go back to your own room before the servants are abroad. You must be respectable Miss Wrenn for a little longer.’

  He helped her into her nightdress, then put his own garish dressing gown about her shoulders.

  ‘You will take my banyan. I will not risk you catching a chill,’ he told her.

  ‘But if I am seen wearing this—’

  ‘You will not be, if you go now.’

  He pulled on his nightshirt and guided her back through the dressing room. She was surprised to see that the candles had not quite burned out.

  ‘Here.’ Damon found her a fresh candle and lit it from one guttering flame. He crossed to the door, opened it and looked out. ‘Go now, quickly,’ he whispered. As she passed him in the doorway, he stopped her and took another swift kiss. ‘Goodnight, dearest Ju. You had best stay away from me in the morning, for I fear Richard will guess our secret if he only sees me look at you.’

  After the warmth of Damon’s arms, Juliana’s bed looked cold and uninviting. She pulled the banyan around her and lay down upon the covers, taking comfort from the feel of the garish fabric, the faint muskiness that reminded her of Damon. The first grey fingers of dawn were already creeping into the room, and Juliana slept only fitfully, her mind too full to rest. It was still early when she eventually decided to get dressed and go to the schoolroom to prepare for the day’s lessons. She pulled out a white muslin dress embroidered with white spring flowers about the hem and sleeves. Although the lack of colour made it suitable for a mourning dress, she had considered it too ornate for general use, but today her mood was buoyant and she wanted to wear something to reflect it. She picked up Damon’s dressing gown and hugged it to her, knowing it must be returned. With no fires to light in the bedrooms, the servants would not come upstairs for some time yet. She smiled to herself—the temptation to see Damon was too great. She would take the banyan back to him. She would scratch quietly on the door, and if he was asleep she would leave it outside his room. If he was awake, however…She shivered deliciously at the thought.

  It was barely light enough to see her way, but as she came out onto the gallery she could hear footsteps in the hall below as the servants made their preparations for the coming day. Juliana hung back, waiting until the hall was empty and there was no possibility of being seen, then she slipped across to the entrance to the west wing. She padded silently into the corridor and stopped as she heard the creak of a hinge. At the end of the passage a bar of early morning sunlight cut through the gloom as a door was thrown wide. It illuminated the bust of Milton, making the marble glow. Juliana watched, unable to move, as Damon stepped out of the room. He was wearing only his nightshirt, and one arm was stretched behind him, as if holding on to someone within the chamber. He looked back and said softly,

  ‘Go back to bed, Veronique.’

  Juliana whisked herself out of sight and leaned against the wall, shaking. Part of her wanted to confront Damon, but her legs would not carry her, and even as she realised this she heard the soft click of his door. For several moments she remained, motionless, her brain refusing to function. Then, in a daze she pushed herself away from the wall and forced her wayward limbs to take her along the now empty corridor. Another moment and this was all I would have known. I should have seen nothing. I would have been happy. The thought came to her in a detached way, rousing no emotions. At Damon’s door she laid the dressing gown on the floor and walked away.

  There were no tears. Juliana shut herself in her room, but would not allow herself to cry; the children would be up soon and swollen, red eyes would only invite comment and questions. She curled up on the bed and tried to think calmly, to persuade herself there was some reasonable explanation for what she had seen, but she knew there could be none. She recalled sitting in Cousin Pettigrew’s kitchen with Lawrence the footman. ‘Devil Collingham, pleasuring three women in one night…’

  Is that how it was? Had Damon taken her to his bed last night merely because he could? Surely not, surely he loved her—but if that was so, then why had he gone to Veronique? Her hand crept to her cheek. She had no experience of this. Perhaps her innocence had left him unsatisfied—a lowering thought. She blinked away a tear—she would not cry. Desperately she sought another explanation. Sir Richard was convinced that Lady Ormiston was involved in some intrigue. If that was so, was it not possible that Damon had gone to her room to discover the truth? Juliana found that explanation no more acceptable. Having admitted that she loved Damon, she realised that she would not share him with any other woman. She could not share him. She pressed her clenched fist against her mouth.

  ‘Oh, Damon, what have you done?’

  The morning lesson dragged by, and if the children noticed their governess was unusually quiet they did not say so. Juliana felt as if she had split in two, and that she was some disembodied spirit, watching herself going through the routine of teaching the children their letters, correcting their mistakes. She excused herself from luncheon and afterwards set the children to drawing in their sketchbooks, when her bruised and tired mind could think of no other occupation for them. The clatter of
hooves in the stable yard took her to the window and she looked out to see Damon and Lady Ormiston riding out through the gates. It was too much; the pain was too great to be borne in silence. Leaving the children to Nurse’s watchful eye, Juliana made her way downstairs.

  Sir Richard was strolling through the shrubbery. He stopped and turned when he heard Juliana behind him.

  ‘Miss Wrenn, have you come to enjoy the air? I confess I thought the rain would continue all day. Damon and Lady Ormiston are taking advantage of this dry spell to go riding.’

  ‘I know.’ Juliana came up to him. ‘I saw them leave. I—I wanted to talk to you, Sir Richard.’

  His brows rose fractionally, but he smiled and held out his arm for her. ‘Then shall we walk?’

  Juliana strolled beside him, trying to find words that would not expose her inner turmoil. ‘You said you thought Lady Ormiston to be in league with Mr Leeson.’

  ‘That is correct, Miss Wrenn. I have no proof, of course, but I have my suspicions.’

  ‘And…is Dam—is Major Collingwood helping you to discover the truth?’

  ‘Well, yes, he said he wanted to help. That is why he is gone out with the lady now. He thinks if we set her at her ease, she will make some slip.’

  Juliana closed her eyes. ‘And, M-Major Collingham can be quite…ruthless, I think.’ She forced herself to speak normally.

  Sir Richard considered the matter. ‘He is a soldier, Miss Wrenn. He was trained to be ruthless to achieve his goals. Yet to those fortunate enough to win his friendship, he can be very kind.’ He looked down at her, a slight frown in his eyes. ‘These are odd questions, Miss Wrenn—what is on your mind?’

  Juliana looked down at the ground. If her face showed only a fraction of the anguish she felt, it would not do to let him see it.

  ‘I—I merely wonder how far the Major will go to—to put Lady Ormiston at her ease.’

  ‘Ah, now I understand your concerns.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘You need not fear that Damon is in danger of losing his heart to the lovely Veronique, Miss Wrenn. He may flatter her and flirt with her, but only until he can discover her purpose in being here.’

  Greatly daring, she said, ‘But they were l-lovers once, were they not?’ Sir Richard hesitated. She continued, ‘You may be frank with me, sir. Damon has already told me of it.’

  ‘Well, then, yes, but it was a couple of years ago and there was never any serious intention. Good lord, Miss Wrenn, I hope you will not hold it against Damon, that he has had a mistress?’

  ‘Heavens, no.’ She forced a laugh. ‘I am merely trying to understand the situation.’

  Sir Richard nodded, and patted her arm. ‘You need have no fear, Miss Wrenn. Trust Damon to look after everything.’

  By dinner time Juliana had developed a sick headache and she sent the children down to the drawing room with Nurse to say goodnight. In the silence of the nursery wing Juliana lay on her bed, watching the summer light slowly fading from the sky outside her window. The carving on the tester above her head had disappeared into a black shadow by the time she heard the children come back upstairs.

  ‘Can we not go in and wish Miss Wrenn goodnight?’ Wilhelmina’s piping voice was directly outside her door.

  ‘Not tonight, dearie. In all likelihood Miss Wrenn is asleep by now, and we should let her rest.’ Nurse’s kindly tones made her smile in spite of her unhappiness. ‘Come along now, and you can tell me what story you would like me to read to you tonight…’

  She should get up and go to them, to make sure they were settled securely in their beds, but she felt too dull, too tired to move. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

  ‘Juliana.’

  There was a soft knock on the door. Juliana opened her eyes to find the room washed in blue-grey moonlight. She was curled up in a ball on the bed and did not want to get up.

  ‘Juliana.’

  Damon’s voice called again from the other side of the door, more urgent this time. She remembered that her door was not locked, and she could not be sure that the Major would go away if she did not answer him. She eased herself off the bed and padded to the door to open it a little. Damon was standing outside, still dressed for dinner, but his loosened cravat suggested that it was late. The light from the candle he was holding flickered over his face, illuminating the upward curve of his lips, but not his eyes.

  ‘So you are awake,’ he murmured. ‘Will you let me come in?’

  ‘No. No, it—it is unseemly.’ His frown made her add quickly, ‘Go to the schoolroom, and I will join you there.’

  Juliana closed the door and stood for a moment in the moonlight. She must do this. It could not be delayed. She must talk to him. She shook out her dress and made her way to the schoolroom, where the Major was lighting candles. He turned and smiled at her as she came in.

  ‘Poor Ju, is your headache so very bad? Let me kiss it better.’ Damon started towards her, but she stepped back, putting up her hands to ward him off. He stopped. ‘What’s this? Ju, you are shaking. Did I frighten you last night?’

  ‘No.’ She twisted her hands together. ‘I returned your banyan this morning.’

  He grinned. ‘I know. Benns fell over it when he brought my hot water.’

  She did not feel inclined to smile. ‘I saw you. I s-saw you coming from Lady Ormiston’s room.’

  ‘Did you.’

  ‘You do not deny it?’

  ‘Deny it?’ He laughed. ‘No, of course not. I—’

  She did not wait for him to finish. His laugh had seared through the brittle control she had placed on herself all day. A wave of anger swept over her.

  ‘How dare you!’ Her voice shook with rage. ‘How dare you sneer at me—or at her! What a fine day’s work you made of it, Major Collingham. Within four-and-twenty hours you have rid yourself of a fiancée, compromised me beyond redemption and made up the rift with your ex-lover.’

  His black brows snapped together. ‘For God’s sake, Ju, you know it is important we learn Veronique’s motives for being here.’

  ‘And did your seduction do the trick?’ She threw the words at him as she paced feverishly up and down the room. She was beyond reason, wanting only to hurt him, to make him suffer as she was doing.

  ‘I did not seduce her—I did not touch her. Listen to me.’ He caught her arm. ‘Listen to me, damn you!’

  ‘Let go of me!’ she cried, struggling to free her arm. ‘I saw you, Damon—you were coming out of her room dressed only in your nightshirt!’

  ‘I had no choice since you had my damned dressing gown!’

  He released her and stepped away. ‘For Heaven’s sake, Ju, let me explain why—’

  ‘There is nothing to explain!’ she interrupted him. ‘It is perfectly clear—she had been making eyes at you all evening, and you could not resist, could you, Devil Collingham.’

  He gave a crack of mirthless laughter. ‘My reputation, Iago, my reputation!’

  ‘Yes, you may joke about it,’ she threw at him, shaking with fury. ‘Did you laugh at me, too? Why did you take me to your bed, Damon? Because you could, I suppose.’

  She noted with savage satisfaction how his face paled at that. His mouth tightened.

  ‘You have a poor opinion of me, madam.’

  She threw up her head. ‘I have no opinion of you!’ She saw the anger flare in his eyes and raised her chin defiantly. ‘No, that’s not true,’ she said slowly, deliberately. ‘I hate you.’

  The words hung in the air, echoing through the stillness as they faced each other across the room, each now in a towering rage. She saw the muscle working in his cheek and knew his anger was barely contained.

  ‘If I am so disgusting to you, then you will not wish to stay here.’

  ‘I shall have Thomas and Amy ready to leave by noon. If you will order your carriage to take us to Blackburn, we will trouble you no further.’

  ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘That is none of your concern.’

  ‘Damnation, wom
an, of course it is my concern. You have no money—or do you plan to make a living lying on your back?’

  She threw him a look of scorn. ‘Alas, I do not have your expertise in that area.’

  ‘You would soon pick it up.’

  She wanted to fly at him, to claw out those eyes that looked at her with such fury, but she was close to tears, only her anger kept her going. She turned on her heel and walked away. She hurried to her room as fast as she could without running, her spine tingling with anticipation—any moment she expected to hear his step behind her, to feel his hand on her shoulder, but he did not follow her.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When Juliana announced to her pupils that she would be leaving, her words were met with a stunned silence. They were in the schoolroom, with only Gwendoline, Wilhelmina and Nurse present. Juliana had already given the news to Thomas and Amy and set them to work packing their few belongings. She had forestalled their questions by saying she would explain everything later, but Gwendoline and her sister were not to be fobbed off so easily.

  ‘By why?’ cried Wilhelmina. ‘I do not want you to leave.’

  ‘My contract here was only ever a temporary one, Minna.’

  ‘But it was until September,’ said Gwendoline, ‘Papa can insist you stay until then.’

  Juliana hesitated, then said carefully, ‘I have been offered a position I cannot afford to ignore, and—and your father has agreed to let me go.’

  ‘Well, he had no right to do so!’ declared Gwendoline, two spots of colour staining her cheeks. ‘You said I could decide if you should leave us!’

  ‘No, Gwendoline,’ she replied gently. ‘We agreed that if you found me intolerable I would remove as soon as we arrived here.’

  Wilhelmina ran to Juliana and clambered on to her lap while Gwendoline came more slowly. She put an arm about Juliana’s neck and laid her cheek on her shoulder, saying, ‘I shall miss you.’

  Juliana blinked away her tears.