The Cinderella Governess

by Georgie Lee

  * * *

  Luke drank in Joanna as she lay beneath him. He shouldn’t compromise her or surrender to this fervour, but he couldn’t pull himself away. He’d never been carried off by emotions like he was with her and tonight he didn’t fight it. He wanted her in his life, to make her happy and no consequences or anyone’s opinions could separate them.

  Rising up, he slid his hands along her slender waist and over her flat stomach to undo the small buttons holding together the front of her pelisse. Her eyes were alight with her desire as she watched him remove the layers of clothing separating her flesh from his. The cold of the room faded as he slipped the chemise off her shoulders and past the curve of her hips. She was gorgeous in the soft firelight, her unpinned hair falling over her full breasts which rose with each breath. He sat up on his heels and took off his coat, waistcoat and shirt, making himself as vulnerable and open to her as she was to him.

  She shivered, her breasts drawing tight with the chill. He knelt before her and raised one of her curving legs. Her calf was supple against his palm as he removed the plain stocking covering her skin. He dropped the simple garments still warm with her heat onto the floor, then lowered her foot to the chaise. He guided her down against the rumpled pillows and lowered himself to cover her. She didn’t question him, but followed his lead, believing in him as his men had done. He wouldn’t betray her any more than he had them, but lead them on to a victory neither of them could’ve imagined before they’d entered this cottage.

  He stood and removed his breeches, revealing his full need. Far from shrinking away, she embraced him as he continued to explore her body. Her soft moans when he found her centre were more precious to him than even the cries of triumph over a battlefield. She was not an enemy to conquer or to avoid like the other ladies in the house, but a joy to savour and celebrate and he would.

  He slipped between her legs and claimed her mouth as he sought entrance. She granted it, drawing him into her body as she had her heart. As they moved together, he lost himself in her. He didn’t want it to end, but as her breath quickened in his ear and her moans gave ways to cries of pleasure, a wave of release carried them both beyond everything except each other.

  * * *

  The fire crackled in the grate while the storm outside continued to rage. Joanna lay entwined with Luke on the chaise, more at ease than she’d ever been before. Sweat glistened on their bodies and the cold nipped at her back as they hugged one another close. A gust of wind drove the rain against the window and another bolt of lightning lit up the room. Regret seemed as far away as Huntford Place while she lay in his arms, this peace worth every chance she’d taken tonight to be with him.

  ‘I’ll be right back.’ Luke made for the bedroom down the short hall past the cupboard where she’d hidden the other day. The firelight caressed the curve of his buttocks as he walked, emphasising every taut ripple of his muscles. Joanna bit her lip at the temptation in his stride as he returned with a blanket and nothing else.

  ‘Quite the devilish smile.’ He grinned as he flicked the blanket over her.

  ‘You bring out the hellion in me.’ She threw her leg over his hips as he joined her beneath the thick quilt.

  ‘I like this wanton Joanna, it’s quite a surprise.’ His heavy arm pressed against her back, keeping her close beside him.

  ‘You’ll have her all night. I won’t be able to cross the stream, not in this rain.’ It was as if Mother Nature was granting them this special time together.

  ‘Good, because even if you could, I wouldn’t let you go.’ He pressed her against the chaise, claiming her once more. She surrendered, eager to be one with him. In a few hours, the sun would rise and she’d be forced to face the consequences of her decision, but not now. Despite everything trying to keep them apart, tonight they were together and she would accept him for however long this lasted.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The sun, tempered by the fading storm clouds, poured in through the vicarage window. The fire had burned down to a smouldering red glow, leaving a stern chill in the room. Joanna snuggled deeper under the heavy quilt and against Luke, craving his heat and the languid pleasure of him. She closed her eyes, about to fall back asleep when the distant church bells rang across the forest.

  Joanna jerked upright, all the peace of last night shattered by the stark morning light. Their time together was over and with it the fantasy of an illegitimate governess being with the second son of an earl. Despite what she’d done with him, she hadn’t been raised to be a mistress, nor would she become one and bring shame on Madame Dubois, the school or herself.

  ‘Good morning.’ Luke ran his wide hand down the curve of her exposed back.

  She twisted around to see him propped against the faded chintz pillows, one arm behind his head, the quilt draped across his hips to conceal the tempting part of him. He smiled at her and she wanted to press her bare chest to his, bring their mouths together and forget all the reality waiting for them at the edge of the forest. She tugged her side of the quilt up to cover her breasts. ‘We should be getting back. If they discover we’re both gone, they’ll think the worst.’

  ‘Let them. They’ll dismiss you anyway once they learn we’re to be wed.’ He slipped his hand in her hair and drew her into a kiss of promise.

  She allowed the quilt to fall away, her breasts taught against his bare chest, the desire which had consumed her last night flaring once again. He craved more than her body, but her life and future. It was everything she’d ever wanted and all impossible. His family wouldn’t accept her and she’d always be an outcast, despised for stealing their son and their one chance at a much-needed dowry. She wouldn’t be hated in the very family he wanted to make her a part of, it would be like spending the rest of her life in the employment of the Huntfords.

  She pressed her hands against his bare chest and pushed herself away from him. ‘We can’t. It’s impossible.’

  It hurt to utter the words.

  His chest stilled beneath her palms. ‘I’ve been outnumbered in battle more than once and seized victory. Don’t tell me our wedding isn’t possible.’

  His determination made her sit back. Here was a man who always strove to achieve what he wanted and it was clear he wanted her. Despite the answering challenge in her heart, she remained steadfast against it and him.

  ‘Yes, you’ve faced down armies, but you know as well as I do how difficult it is to face down society.’ She rose, gathered up her discarded clothes and began to dress. ‘The Huntfords have treated me poorly because they think I’m below them. Imagine the scorn they and their friends will heap on me for marrying before Frances and above my station?’

  ‘I’ve faced too many real perils to be intimidated by imaginary ones.’ The languid brown of his eyes hardened.

  ‘Is your family an imaginary one? I’m illegitimate, Luke. What will happen when your parents or your brother learn of it? I’ve heard the things he’s said to you, I doubt he’ll shrink from voicing his disapproval of me.’ She slipped her chemise over her head and took up her discarded stays.

  ‘You’d rather remain in drudgery than take a chance on defying others to claim your own life?’ He flung back the coverlet and stood. Joanna did her best not to stare at everything he revealed, afraid it would pull her back into the sweet memories of last night and distract her from being reasonable and realistic.

  ‘Of course not, but I’m not foolish enough to believe in fairy tales.’ She tugged tight the laces of her stays, then snatched up her dress. Everything seemed clearer in the bright morning light, including the mistake they’d made in forgetting themselves last night. ‘You’ve been wrestling with your responsibilities ever since you’ve come home, not happy about the requests your family has made of you, or the sacrifices you’ve made for them. A relationship with me, a nameless governess, is a way of granting their wishes while also sh
owing your rebellion.’

  He snatched his breeches off the floor. ‘You think my concern for you so slight?’

  ‘No, but I won’t have you break your pledge to help your family, to compromise your honour because of me.’ She was convinced he cared, very much, but she knew it wasn’t enough. Perhaps her mother had loved her, but it hadn’t stopped her from giving Joanna up. Madame Dubois had been like a mother to her, but it hadn’t prevented her from sending her to the Huntfords. Luke might prize her company this morning, but it didn’t mean he could defy everyone to be with her, no matter what he said. ‘But constant criticism and rebukes will erode your regard for me, and even if you can win your family to our cause, what about Lord Beckwith? What will he think of this arrangement?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I allowed him to pressure me to leave the Army. I won’t let him decide who should be my wife. He no longer commands me.’

  ‘But he commands those who can help your men and those influential men have wives who’ll gossip and turn their husbands against you. You won’t be able to help your soldiers if you become an outcast because of me and I won’t allow people to suffer so that I can be happy.’

  He pulled up his breeches then halted, his bare chest rising and falling as he breathed. ‘Aren’t you tired of others dictating your life? Of not fighting for what you want?’

  She pulled on her pelisse and with shaking fingers fumbled to button it. ‘It’s easy for you to say when you have choices for earning a living. Not all of us are so fortunate.’

  ‘I say it because I’ve done it, not because it’s easy. I clawed my way up from lowly lieutenant to a major in command of men. I didn’t do it by making the best of things, but by exceeding all expectations, taking risks, challenging people and proving my mettle and my worth to my commanders and myself.’ He strode up to her and cupped her face with his hands, his words powerful despite the softness of his voice. ‘You’re a brave woman, Joanna. Don’t allow your fears to make you throw away everything you’ve ever wanted.’

  His tender hands on her face made her hesitate and consider sharing in his conviction, but everyone would despise her if she did. Eventually he would too. She stepped out of his grip, struggling to reclaim the calm and steady countenance which had served her so well for so many years. It warred with the part of her which wanted to believe in his confidence.

  ‘I don’t have the same freedoms you do, so don’t demand the same things of me.’

  She made for the door before his single question stopped her.

  ‘And if there’s a child?’

  She fingered the cold, brass doorknob. If there was a child, she couldn’t do to it what her mother had done to her by denying it a place in society, or the knowledge of its father, but she wouldn’t allow the phantom of it to guide her now. She looked over her shoulder at him, her heart aching. ‘We’ll deal with it if the issue arises.’

  She fled out the door, her boots sending up splashes of rainwater from the wet ground as she rushed through the woods. The rising sun cut through the trees and she knew, no matter what she did or said once she arrived back at Huntford Place there’d be no hiding her absence. She struggled through the emotions torturing her to come up with some excuse for her tardiness or a legitimate reason for why she’d been out of the house the morning after a storm, but she could think of nothing except Luke and leaving him behind.

  * * *

  When the roof of Huntford Place at last came into view, a new failing began to trail her. In her selfish desire to be special, to forget everyone and everything for one night, she’d betrayed Madame Dubois and the people who’d raised her. Perhaps she shouldn’t have walked away from Luke, but marry him the way Isabel intended to marry Mr Balfour. Luke had offered her the protection of a union, but not even his name or a ceremony could stop people from condemning or insulting her and it was a long way between here and the banns.

  Poor Madame La Roche, the French teacher, had once fallen in love with the son of a Salisbury magistrate, a man of title and property. His family had objected so strongly, in the end the young man had cried off a mere week before the wedding. Madame La Roche had returned to the school embarrassed and alone. How much castigation she’d received for her ill-advised engagement, Joanna wasn’t sure, but shortly after her return she’d resumed her teaching duties. Joanna hoped Madame Dubois proved as generous with her as she’d been with Madame La Roche if she was forced to return to the school. There was nowhere else for Joanna to go. In the end, even if she went home in disgrace, it was better to leave. It would place distance between her and Luke, make him fade from memory, even as his touch still burned on her skin.

  Joanna skirted the front drive, then followed the house around to the back. She tried the library doors, but they were locked. Cursing her luck, she tugged at the music-room door, relieved when it swung open. She slipped into the dark room and stood quietly in the semi-darkness beside the pianoforte and struggled to compose herself. She picked a few leaves off her skirt and swiped at a bead of water clinging to her bodice, unsure how she’d face her charges or her employer.

  Lady Huntford’s muffled voice, and those of some other ladies, carried in from the adjacent sitting room. It plucked at Joanna’s already tense nerves. Joanna couldn’t reach the stairs, or anywhere else in the house without moving past it. Unable to stand here all day, or hide behind the pianoforte until everyone dispersed to their chosen amusements, she screwed up her courage and hurried down the hall. She moved on the balls of her feet, trying to slip unnoticed past the sitting room. She was nearly away when Frances cried out, ‘There she is!’

  Joanna froze, wincing at her failure.

  ‘Miss Radcliff, come in here at once,’ Lady Huntford ordered.

  With heavy steps Joanna entered the room. From the looks of it, the entire house had been roused in a search for the wayward governess, or, more likely, they’d been gathered to participate in Joanna’s total and utter downfall. Everyone sat in silence except for Miss Winborn and Miss Chilton, who whispered together near the back of the room.

  Luke’s parents stood among the guests, more mortified than amused, while his brother stared at her with the same look of disgust as Lady Huntford. Lady Pensum sat beside him, not looking well and perhaps the one person least interested in the drama playing out before her.

  Lady Huntford rose out of her chair and advanced on Joanna, her puce dress fluttering ominously around her legs. Joanna braced herself, hoping this reprimand would involve nothing more than a scolding for disregarding her morning duties with the girls, but the hard line of Lady Huntford’s lips, and Frances’s smug look of revenge from where she sat beside her father and his dog told Joanna otherwise.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Lady Huntford peered at her with eyes made narrower by her overly full cheeks.

  ‘I’m sorry I was late for my duties, but I took a walk...’

  ‘Don’t lie to me. We all know where you’ve really been and who you’ve been with.’

  ‘Come, Lady Huntford, we don’t know for certain if she was indeed with Luke,’ Lady Ingham interjected with an edge of exasperation.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it’s only a coincidence he and the governess were both missing this morning,’ Lord Pensum huffed. ‘Especially since they’ve been noticed conversing so much.’

  Miss Chilton and Miss Winborn gasped at the not-too-subtle accusation. Lady Ingham pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead and Lord Ingham rolled his eyes at Lord Pensum having aired his suspicions about his brother in mixed company. Whatever the Inghams thought of her and Luke’s behaviour, it was clear they didn’t appreciate his misstep being announced for all to hear. No one seemed concerned with discussing Joanna’s failings aloud.

  ‘I was not with Major Preston.’ Joanna stared down her accusers, determined to be convincing in an effort to save something of her reputation. It wasn’t like her
to lie, and guilt over this as much as her rash behaviour last night with Luke needled her, but she was forced to ignore it. With Lord Pensum and Lady Huntford all but accusing her of acting like a tart in front of so many titled people, it wouldn’t be long before they wrote to their London friends about it. Joanna’s reputation as an employable woman would be destroyed, assuming an illegitimate child didn’t wreck it for her. Her one chance at salvation was to convince everyone she was innocent. It was a Herculean feat and one she hated trying to achieve with deceit.

  ‘Don’t you dare lie to me, you whoring little wench,’ Lady Huntford screeched and her hand twitched at her side as though she wanted to slap Joanna. She probably would have if there hadn’t been so many people present. ‘You’re dismissed. Pack your things at once and go back to that awful school of yours. If this is the kind of governess they’re educating, I want nothing more to do with it and will tell all of my friends to avoid it, too.’

  Joanna willed her shoulders not to slump in defeat. In her one act of defiance, she’d ruined her whole life and quite possibly the prospects of many other girls at Madame Dubois’s school. For the first time, she understood why her mother had given her away. She’d probably stood in a similar position once, with all chance of a respectable life gone and no ability to bring up her child.

  Her dignity and reputation in tatters, Joanna moved to curtsy and take her leave when Gruger shuffled into the sitting room.

  ‘Lord Helmsworth has arrived to see you, Lady Huntford,’ he mumbled as though inconvenienced.

  Vicar Carlson entered as the butler finished his announcement.

  ‘It’s an honour to have you grace us with your presence this morning. What can we do for you?’ Lady Huntford all but grovelled in front of the distinguished man before rising out of her curtsy and hissing at Joanna, ‘Show the proper respect, girl.’