Breaking the Governess's Rules

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Breaking the Governess's Rules Page 17

by Michelle Styles

He slipped one finger, then two inside and instantly she clenched against the fingers as they slid in and out of her.

  She grasped his face with her hands and a moan came from her throat as her body arched towards his questing fingers, desiring the ultimate release.

  ‘Jonathon.’

  ‘Soon,’ he rasped in her ear as his fingers continued their play, sliding and stroking her, making the want within her grow until she thought she must break into two from the need to join with him.

  ‘Now.’

  Her hands tugged at his back and urged him forward, urged him to fill her with more than his fingers. She wanted him inside and his body covering her.

  He wedged her thighs wider and positioned himself between them.

  As a crack of lightning lit the room with its white-hot heat, he thrust forwards and her body opened to meet him, enveloping him as he filled her. This time, unlike four years ago, her body stretched and welcomed the full length of him. She gave a soft cry and clutched at his back as he drove forwards. He collapsed on her, and lay there unmoving.

  She looked up at him, her hand touching his eyebrows, and cheeks, memorising his features.

  He rained kisses on her face before raising himself up on his elbows. She lifted her hips, wordlessly urging him to stay with her.

  ‘At your pace,’ he rasped in her ear as he rested deep within her. ‘You know what you want.’

  What she wanted. What she had to have. And it was the same as him. They were joined.

  She began to move her body, giving in to her instinct. Faster and faster until they were both spent and with a cry, she reached the edge and plunged over as all around her the thunder sounded, no longer frightening, but somehow echoing and rejoicing in their cries of pleasure.

  Jonathon twisted the red-gold hair about his fingers, revelling in its silky texture and flower-scented smell. Her hair had darkened and changed over the past four years. He had not realised that so many shades, from dark auburn to burnt copper, could be contained on one head—a colour to suit any mood. Every time he looked, he found something new to admire.

  Joining with Louisa had surpassed his memory of the last time.

  He had never lost control in that way with any other woman. And he knew he had lied to himself—once would not be nearly enough. He did not want it to be a short affair where two bodies collided. He wanted to wake up with her by his side. He wanted her to be in his life, rather than simply being a memory.

  He had not planned to make love to her in this spartan hut. Today was supposed to be one more baby step in the seduction. But the storm had intervened and the desire to comfort her had overwhelmed him. She had turned to him because of her fear. The next time, he wanted her to turn to him because of her desire for him.

  He pressed his lips against her auburn hair. Her eyes were sated and wide. He started to speak, but she laid two fingers across his lips. ‘Hush, after what we shared, neither of us should keep secrets from each other.’

  Jonathon ignored the slight twinge of guilt. Louisa would learn of Venetia’s arrival soon enough. He gave her an indulgent smile. ‘What dark secret have you been keeping from me?’

  ‘I was pregnant with your child when I went to Italy.’

  Jonathon stared at her in astonishment. He had expected something little, not this. ‘You were pregnant with my child? And you left?’

  ‘It seemed the best option. I was not going to give the child up, Jonathon. You were getting married.’ Her lips trembled. ‘I was certain that your stepmother was right.’

  ‘It was a lie.’

  She laid her head against his chest. ‘I know that now.’

  He put a hand on her shoulder and held her away from him. His insides churned. Louisa had had their child. ‘Where is the child now? Sorrento?’

  ‘I lost our baby, Jonathon. Me! Not anyone else.’ She gave a shuddering gulp. ‘I…I caught a fever on the boat and the baby was born too soon. My body could not hold her.’

  Born too soon. The words echoed about his brain. He put his arms about her and held her as great shuddering sobs racked her body. Anger, regret and remorse surged through him. He wanted to take the hurt away from her, but there was nothing he could do except hold her. ‘I want to know everything.’

  ‘They said I was lucky to be alive. I wanted to die.’ She stared at him with tear-stained eyes. ‘That Louisa, the girl you loved, I thought she was gone, but now I am not sure.’

  ‘Hush, it is all right.’ He kissed her temple and willed her to believe. ‘You are safe in my arms. Nothing bad will hurt you again.’

  ‘You broke my heart twice that year, Jonathon,’ she said, breaking free. Her face was pinched, white and vulnerable, but there was dignity about her. ‘Once when I did not hear from you and the second time when your baby, our baby, left me. The little girl never breathed. Not one breath. She was beautiful, though.’

  ‘Did you give her a name?’

  ‘Elizabeth Claire after our mothers.’

  ‘I would have chosen the same name.’ He drew her firmly into his arms and held her, longed to do more. ‘I am glad you gave her a name.’

  She squeezed his hand and then moved away from him. ‘Thank you. I am fine now. The storm has passed. I need to dress.’

  Silently Jonathon handed Louisa her chemise, allowing her time to recover. His entire being ached. Louisa had gone to Italy because she was pregnant. Because she thought. His mind reeled and bile rose in his throat. He could not change the past as much as he might want to. ‘No one told me. I would never have abandoned you and the baby. Ever.’

  ‘I know that now.’ A final tear ran down Louisa’s cheek. She wiped it away with impatient fingers. ‘You would think, after all the years, the hurt would have stopped.’

  ‘You have someone to share it with now.’ Jonathon forced his shoulders to relax. One more thing to confront his stepmother with. One more thing she would have to atone for.

  ‘I thought I would die when it happened. I wanted to, but stupidly I lived. Then one warm spring morning, I laid a flower on her grave and I found I wanted to go on living.’ She lifted her chin and met his gaze full on. ‘I put my past behind me. I changed and became the person I am now.’

  Jonathon started to pull her back into his arms, but she moved away. ‘Louisa, I am sorry. The words are inadequate, I know. If anything happens this time, I am here. We face the future together.’

  ‘It won’t.’ She looped her hair behind her ear. Her voice became dull and without emotion. ‘The doctor said I would never have children again. Or at least that’s what I understood. My Italian was not so good in those days.’

  Jonathon closed his eyes. It explained why Louisa had been reluctant to play with his son. The Louisa of his memory had loved children and had wanted a large family. His careless driving had destroyed her life even though she had not been in his carriage. That she was willing to forgive him was a miracle. ‘Louisa …’

  ‘I must dress, Jonathon. The storm is over. All my tears are shed.’

  ‘Dress?’ He stared at her in disbelief. There were things they had to discuss. ‘Listen to me, Louisa.’

  ‘Unless you want everyone to know what we have been doing, we will have to dress.’ She pointed towards the window. ‘The sun is shining and the sky is blue. The storm has cleared the air. Even now, the chaise will be making its way towards us.’ She scrambled to her feet. Her cheeks flamed. Red. It pleased him that she still knew how to blush. ‘No one must know. Tell no one how we sheltered from the storm.’

  Jonathon narrowed his gaze. It would be very easy to force her to make the right decision, but that would not win her. Jonathon knew he wanted all of her, not just her body and not just because they happened to be discovered together. ‘Are you going to deny that you were an equal partner in what just happened? You were the one who asked me to stay with you.’

  ‘It was an aberration and best forgotten.’ Her hands worked feverishly, collecting the various garments. ‘The storm has passed.
I am no longer in need of comfort. I have the rest of my life to live. I cannot go on wishing for what might have been. This was goodbye.’

  Was that all he was—a temporary shelter from the storm? Jonathon’s mouth tasted bitter. What happened here was supposed to be a beginning, not an ending.

  ‘I want to be with you again, Louisa. In a bed, properly, and with time to enjoy all the sensual delights.’ He half-closed his eyes, picturing the large four-poster bed in his room, the firelight, and Louisa naked, spread out for his delectation, her auburn hair contrasting with the cream of the sheets. But he wanted more than that. He wanted her in his life. But right now, he had to settle for what she was prepared to give. ‘Do you think our passion would be satisfied with just this once?’

  Louisa’s hands tried to shove the final button of her gown through its buttonhole. It broke off and went bouncing on the floor. He wanted to be with her, even after she had told him about their baby. He had not recoiled in horror. And she knew if she had stayed in his arms then, her heart would have been lost for ever. She was not prepared to take the risk. ‘What you want is not going to happen.’

  ‘Why not? We are adults.’

  ‘I will be beholden to no man.’ She reached down and picked up her dress. ‘Jonathon, I have a life in Italy. There is a little cottage with grapes and lemons growing in the garden, and if I crane my neck just right, I have a view of the Bay of Naples and Mount Vesuvius beyond. I am going to return there. You might not consider it much of a life, but it is safe and respectable. And, most importantly, it belongs to me. I created the garden. It is my true refuge from life’s storms.’

  Pain flickered across his face, but she also spied more than a hint of relief. Her stomach tightened as the bitter knowledge flooded through her. He was not offering to become a permanent fixture in her life.

  ‘We will have to make the most of our remaining time together.’ He put his arms about her and drew her back against his body. Her curves melted into him, making her want to give into him.

  ‘I knew your intentions are far from honourable. You are seeking to cause a scandal.’ She kept her head still. The need for him was welling up again, so fiercely that it scared her. Jonathon needed to marry a woman who could give him everything and she was barren. All he offered was an affair—that was his unspoken message.

  His hands loosened, allowing her to stumble away from him. His face became cold and remote.

  ‘Shall we forget about intentions and concentrate on being?’ His eyes glittered with dangerous fires. ‘You were the one who seduced me. You were the one who wanted me. You used me when it suited.’

  Her fingers quickly twisted her hair into a semblance of a knot. She spied several hair pins, pounced on them and jabbed them into her head. Then, feeling more in control of her emotions, she put on her bonnet and turned back to him.

  ‘There is no future, Jonathon, for us. I have my future mapped out.’ She gave a little smile, but inwardly she died a little.

  ‘There does not have to be a plan or rules. We can simply be together. We are adults, Louisa.’ He held out his hands and a slow sensuous smile that promised hot nights amongst tangled sheets caressed her.

  ‘And no one will know,’ she said, reaching for her bonnet and gloves. ‘I have heard those words before, Jonathan. I learnt the lesson. Someone always knows.’

  His lips twitched upwards as he acknowledged her statement. ‘I am not planning on telling anyone.’

  ‘Good,’ she lied and then stilled, listening as she heard the distant rattle of a carriage wheel. Relief flooded through her. She was not going to have to pretend an indifference any longer. She held up her hand, silencing him. ‘I cannot deny what happened this afternoon. But here it stays. You and I must go on as if this never happened.’

  ‘But it did happen,’ Jonathon said.

  ‘Then forget.’ Louisa gave an imperious nod. Her insides ached with knot upon knot. If Jonathon whispered one word of love or caring about her, she would go to him, and that would be wrong. She stopped believing in dreams four years ago. ‘It is the only solution, Jonathon. Maybe it is time you learnt that you cannot have everything you desire.’

  ‘I learnt that lesson years ago, Louisa.’ Jonathon turned his back on her, hiding his face. ‘But we will play it your way … for now.’

  Louisa bowed her head and the brim of her bonnet hid her face. ‘Thank you for respecting my decision, Jonathon.’

  ‘I was always a gentleman, Louisa.’ He caught her arm and turned her so that her heart-shaped face faced him. He wanted to shake her and get her to listen to what he was saying, but he also knew she was right. He would not stoop to causing a scandal. ‘I will give you the privilege of changing your mind.’

  ‘That won’t happen.’ Her voice shook with the faintest of tremors. ‘I can assure you.’

  He straightened her bonnet with a twitch of his fingers, allowing a single strand of hair to wrap itself around his thumb in the process. He resisted the temptation to bring it to his mouth. ‘I wonder what excuse you will use the next time.’

  ‘There will be no next time.’

  ‘You were never good at wagering, Louisa, so do not even start.’ Jonathon gave her a bow. ‘You will be the one who begs for my mouth. We are meant to be together.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Beg. She would never beg for his touch. Louisa gritted her teeth and concentrated on the dining-room chandelier’s flickering light. Jonathon’s arrogant prediction as the replacement coach had arrived continued to echo in her brain several hours later. No flimsy excuse would cross her lips but she might find a reason to surrender.

  Louisa released a breath the moment she reached the corridor, expanding her lungs until her breasts were tight against the décolleté green evening dress. She had made it through supper. It had been sheer torture to sit at the table with Jonathon presiding at the other end.

  She had tried very hard to pay attention to the dinnertable conversation, but her mind had kept drifting back to the afternoon.

  Forgetting about him was proving harder than she had thought possible, little short of torture. With each turn of his head at supper, every time his fingers had curled around the wine or water glass, a warm heat had infused her body, curling around her insides.

  What was worse was that several times their gazes had met and he appeared to know precisely what she was thinking. Having an affair was tempting. It would be a way to banish him from her system.

  ‘Miss Sibson, that shade of green suits you. You must tell me how you do it,’ Miss Blandish said, taking Louisa’s arm as she entered the drawing room and leading her away from the chair she had occupied the previous evening and towards the centre of the room.

  ‘I like the colour and the colour likes me.’ Louisa dipped her head. What was Miss Blandish playing at now? The woman had scarcely spoken more than a few words to her and suddenly she was behaving as if they were bosom friends.

  Miss Blandish gave a little trilling laugh. ‘The country air must be good for you. It has certainly put the roses in your cheeks over the last few days. When we were in Newcastle, I thought you were pale and insignificant, but now I can see I was utterly wrong. You appear as if you were lit by a thousand candles.’

  Louisa stopped and stared at Miss Blandish. A compliment—a back-handed compliment, to be sure, but a compliment all the same. She swallowed hard. Hopefully what had happened this afternoon did not show on her face! Even the maid had said something about her heightened colour and how much better her complexion was for spending a few days in the country.

  Her breathing eased. The notion that Miss Blandish had guessed was misplaced guilt.

  Despite Miss Daphne’s eyes twinkling, she had not asked about the details of Louisa’s misadventure when she’d gone to see her and explain about the unexpected delay. Thankfully, Dexter the coachman had given a very graphic account of the accident, playing up his part. And Miss Daphne knew how much Louisa hated thunderstorms.

 
She inclined her head and accepted Miss Blandish’s compliment as an overture of friendship. ‘The right shade can do wonders for one’s complexion.’

  ‘You are lucky to be able to wear green.’ The blonde woman linked her arm with Louisa’s. ‘I have always wanted to wear green but my dear mama keeps me in pink. She says that green makes me look bilious. What is worse is that Prunella agrees. This afternoon while it was raining she said so very loudly. And Lord Furniss overheard, I’m sure of it. He was reading in the library.’

  ‘You are imagining things.’ Louisa leant forwards and dropped her voice. Now was the perfect time to matchmake. ‘Lord Furniss tends to concentrate quite hard when he is reading. He will not have heard.’

  ‘You are sweet. You have no idea what a trial Nella has been and how it has preyed on my mind. I would hate for Lord Furniss to think me bilious in anything.’

  ‘It is one of the good parts about having no siblings,’ Louisa said with the slightest catch in her throat. ‘Not having to worry about one’s younger sister.’

  ‘Yes, I have never thought of it in that light. No one to tell you what to do or wear. Now that has a certain appeal.’ Miss Blandish giggled like a young girl. ‘When I get married, I am planning to wear green simply to spite my mother.’

  ‘Lord Furniss appears to like you in pink.’

  Miss Blandish’s cheeks coloured slightly and she lowered her voice. ‘Do you think so? Lord Furniss is, well … very pleasant and amenable. I know Mama would prefer Lord Chesterholm for me, but there is just a certain something about Lord Furniss. I think it is his hands with their clean nails and tapering fingers. I noticed them when he was teaching me the proper way to bowl.’

  ‘It sometimes happens that way.’ Louisa glanced over her shoulder towards where Miss Daphne sat seemingly engrossed in an animated conversation with Nella. Her matchmaking scheme was progressing far better than she had dreamt possible.

  ‘Shall we take a turn about the drawing room?’ Miss Blandish said, lowering her voice and gripping Louisa’s arm tighter. ‘I simply cannot face another moment at the spinet. Miss Daphne kept me at my scales for hours and hours until my voice was beyond hoarse. Dear Mama has had me take some of her tonic in preparation, but I cannot face another warble. I can’t remember ever practising that much.’

 

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