The Reluctant Governess

by Anne Mather

  Victoria stared up at him weakly, and then to her horror tears began to stream down her cheeks. It was too much, his anger on top of everything else.

  ‘Victoria!’ The Baron’s voice changed dramatically, and with a brief exclamation he gathered her roughly up into his arms, pressing her face into his chest. Only then did she realise that he was trembling too, and the arms that closed round her were warmly possessive. ‘Do not cry,’ he commanded gently, ‘do not cry, Liebchen. Do you not know I have been wild with anxiety for your safety? You cannot imagine how I felt seeing you there, like a ghost, beside my fire!’

  Victoria felt light-headed, but she knew she must draw back from the Baron’s embrace before she made a complete fool of herself. Just being close to him like this showed her how pitiful were her defences against him, and she had no intention of causing any more embarrassment between them by allowing her emotions to rule her head. But the Baron would not let her go so easily, and his arms tightened as she struggled to free herself. She felt his lips brush her hair, and with an immense effort, she thrust herself away from him. This time he let her go and stood regarding her with solemn eyes so that she longed to go back into his arms and press her body close against his, arousing him as she knew she was capable. But that would never do. The Baron was so wrapped up in the memory of his past, he could not see forward to the future. Besides, Marguerite Spiegel was far more the kind of woman he appeared to admire, and certainly she was determined enough to get what she wanted.

  Now Victoria turned away, smoothing the dampness off her cheeks, wondering if her dirty hands had left black smudges. She had not thought of anything until now except getting warm again, and she wondered exactly where he thought she had been.

  ‘Tell me!’ He was abrupt. ‘Exactly where have you been?’

  Victoria bent her head. ‘I—I—I went exploring …’ she began uneasily.

  The Baron uttered a hoarse ejaculation. ‘You went exploring!’ he snapped violently. ‘Are you mad! Do you take me for a fool?’

  Victoria turned uncertainly. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she began unsteadily.

  ‘You think I will stomach anything, Victoria? You think you can get away with such foolishness?’

  Victoria shook her head. ‘I did go—looking for something,’ she insisted nervously. ‘But—but—something happened to prevent me getting back!’

  The Baron clenched his fists. A muscle was working in his cheek furiously, and she could see he was intensely angry. But why? Where did he think she had been?

  ‘Victoria,’ he said again, in a controlled tone, ‘I ask you again … where have you been?’

  Victoria hunched her shoulders. ‘I’m trying to tell you—--’

  The Baron seethed. He was breathing heavily, and there was a taut whiteness to his normally tanned face. ‘You deny you have been down in the village dining with that man—Hammond?’

  Victoria stared at him in astonishment. ‘Of—of course I deny it!’ She spread her hands expressively. ‘How—how would I get down to the village?’

  The Baron gave an angry snap of his fingers. ‘You might have met him on the pass. You might have arranged to meet him there. A clever arrangement, I admit, and one which shows little consideration for us!’

  Victoria clasped her hands. ‘Don’t be silly!’ she exclaimed. ‘I did no such thing! I—I’ve been locked in—--’

  The Baron raked a hand through his thick hair. ‘For God’s sake, Victoria, I implore you, do not do this to me!’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Go to this man, this man Hammond! I thought I could not marry again, I thought I could ask no woman to share the shambles of my life, but I was wrong. With you it would be different, with you my love would suffice. I cannot, I realise, stand by and watch the woman I worship and adore being enamoured of a man who is so obviously wrong for her!’

  Victoria’s heart pounded painfully quickly as the Baron spoke, the words wrung from him tortuously. His anger, his pain, his disbelief in her story stemmed not from a fear that she had usurped his authority yet again, but from jealousy. Was it possible? Was it really possible!

  Without discovering the answers to these questions, Victoria stared at him now, unable to believe her ears, and with a groan he caught her wrist, dragging her close against the hard length of his body.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he muttered thickly, burying his face in her neck, ‘oh yes, Victoria, I am a man and as a man I cannot let you go. I feel—I sense that you are not indifferent to me, despite your attempts to reduce our lovemaking to passing promiscuity, and while I vowed I would never say this to another woman, I must have you for my wife!’

  Victoria placed her hands on either side of his face and looked at him incredulously. ‘Oh, Horst,’ she whispered huskily, ‘you are the most unperceptive of men! Don’t you know I have no intention of leaving you, whatever you decide to do with me?’ And then there was silence in the huge apartment as his mouth sought and found hers in a kiss that destroyed all the misery that had gone before.

  Finally, when he lifted his mouth to rest his forehead against hers, he said: ‘All right, my Liebling, I believe you were not with Hammond this evening, but please, tell me, where were you?’ His arms folded her closer. ‘At various points throughout these hours that I have been searching for you I have wanted to kill you or beat you or hurt you as you have been hurting me, but now that I have you, now that I can hold you close against me so that I can feel the fast beating of your heart against mine, I know that I only want to hurt whoever it was who caused you this—this being locked in—--’

  Victoria half smiled, and put a finger over his lips. ‘No one locked me in, exactly,’ she said softly. ‘And the only creature to blame—or should I say creatures—were a handful of kittens!’

  The Baron stared at her incomprehensively, and swiftly she explained how she had inadvertently imprisoned herself in the old kitchen of the north wing. He listened incredulously to her story, every now and then halting her to ask a question, until she came to the part about her escape and then he gave a shake of his head.

  ‘Do you realise if you had not escaped you could have died there?’ he asked unsteadily.

  Victoria swallowed hard. ‘I know,’ she said, smoothing the hair that grew low on the back of his neck. ‘But let’s not consider that. I escaped. That’s all that matters.’

  The Baron cupped the back of her head with his hand. ‘But you have not said why you went into the north wing,’ he said pointedly.

  Victoria sighed. ‘It was silly really. fräulein Spiegel was missing before dinner. You yourself asked for her, Maria told me. I—I went looking for her.’

  ‘In the north wing?’

  Victoria coloured. ‘I know. I’ve said it was silly. It was just an idea I had …’

  The Baron’s eyes grew tender. ‘I begin to understand,’ he said huskily. ‘Or at least, I think I do. It was Sophie’s talk of the north tower, where she said her mother was imprisoned, was it not?’

  Victoria stared at him. ‘You knew she said that?’

  ‘Oh yes. I think it was her way of destroying the painful images she had of Elsa. I think she tried to believe she was being punished for what she had done.’

  Victoria bent her head. ‘I thought that, too.’

  ‘And you thought that as Sophie did not like Marguerite she might try to make her make-believe reality?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think after the first few moments I believed her capable of such a thing …’

  ‘But the doubts had been sown. And you were going to rescue Marguerite so that I should not learn of Sophie’s behaviour yet again?’

  Victoria pressed her forehead against his chest. ‘I’ve been a fool.’

  ‘No,’ the Baron lifted her chin with his hand and put his lips to the side of her mouth. ‘Just touchingly loyal, that’s all. And perhaps a little imaginative, too, eh?’ He smiled.

  ‘Oh, Horst.’ Victoria compressed her lips. ‘Is this real
? Everything has seemed so strange today.’

  ‘You are real, and I am real, and our love is real. That is what matters,’ he said. ‘And your talk of Marguerite has given me an idea.’

  Victoria frowned. ‘What about?’

  ‘Did you not wonder why I should be so certain you had dined with Hammond this evening?’

  Victoria stared at him. ‘Of course. Why were you?’

  He frowned deeply. ‘I will explain. I came to the kitchen once I knew you had had your evening meal. I wanted to see you. I had to talk to you about Hammond. Although at that time I fooled myself it was for your own good that I was concerned!’ He half smiled, his eyes gentle. ‘In any event, you were not there, as you know. Maria said you must have gone to your room and I went there, looking for you.’ He shook his head. ‘I knocked, and when you did not answer I went in. But again you were not there. I could not begin to understand where you might be. I had just left the study and you were not there. Where else was there? The hall? Sophie’s bedroom? I tried them both, but without success. I even tried my own room,’ he added huskily.

  Victoria felt the warmth flood her body. Even now, it was difficult to believe that soon Horst’s room would be hers too.

  He turned and drew her down on to his knee as he seated himself on the settle by the fire. Then he went on: ‘I was beginning to get desperate. Marguerite was still missing at this time and I did not know where either of you were. But you were my chief concern, Marguerite I know can look after herself.’

  ‘And I can’t?’

  He shook his head. ‘You are far too impulsive! I was afraid to consider where you might be.’ He sighed. ‘And then, later, after Gustav and I had taken the dogs and searched the grounds, Marguerite returned. She seemed unconcerned when I voiced my fears for you, and when pressed to reveal where she had been she reversed the process and told me that you had gone down to Reichstein to see Hammond—--’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes, that was why I was so certain you had been there. I got the car out at once and drove down to the village, only to find that Hammond had gone out in his car and they did not know when he would be back. The barmaid, she told me there had been a young woman at the hotel that evening, visiting with Hammond, and of course I jumped to the obvious conclusions, the conclusions Marguerite hoped I would jump to, I see now.’ He smote one fist against his thigh. ‘Of course,’ he exclaimed harshly, ‘I see it all now. It was Marguerite who dined with Hammond this evening, and she used you to hide her own actions.’

  Victoria listened intently. ‘But she must have known she would be found out?’ she exclaimed.

  The Baron’s frown deepened. ‘Would she?’ He shook his head. ‘I am not so sure. It was a calculated risk, in my opinion. In these temperatures a woman stands little chance of surviving after night falls, and perhaps she thought you would be found tomorrow, buried in some snowdrift. It’s obvious she considered your absence ominous, to say the least.’

  ‘But where did she say she had been?’

  ‘She didn’t—at least only indirectly. She let me believe she had been about the schloss all the while and that she had seen a car parked some distance from here on the road to the pass. Do you think perhaps Marguerite knows this man Hammond … I mean, of course, more intimately than they appeared yesterday.’

  Victoria stroked his cheek. ‘I can answer that. Before you arrived they revealed they were old friends.’

  ‘Ah!’ The Baron nodded. ‘It begins to make sense. And Marguerite did not want me to know that.’

  Victoria looked into the flames. ‘Maybe not,’ she murmured charitably.

  The Baron smiled. ‘Always so prepared to protect the guilty,’ he murmured, against her hair. His hands tightened on her waist. ‘Don’t you realise that had I accepted the news that you were with Hammond and made no further investigations, and you had been unable to escape—--’

  ‘Ssh!’ Victoria stopped his mouth with her lips. ‘Don’t let us think of that now.’

  ‘Marguerite must go,’ said the Baron fiercely. ‘First thing in the morning. Gustav will drive her to the station.’

  Victoria smiled, ‘All right.’

  ‘And there will be no assignations with this man Hammond. I will deal with him if he comes here again,’ averred the Baron bleakly.

  Victoria hugged him. ‘Yes, Herr Baron,’ she murmured mischievously.

  ‘My name is Horst,’ he said huskily. ‘Say it!’

  ‘Darling Horst,’ said Victoria obediently, and he bent his head to hers again.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, as he released her mouth, ‘can you accept what I have to offer? Am I being fair to you, offering you the mess I have made of my life?’

  Victoria’s eyes tilted with a smile. ‘It would be unfair of you not to offer it,’ she replied softly.

  He shook his head doubtfully. ‘You are so young, so lovely, and Reichstein is such a grim old place,’ he murmured.

  Victoria stared at him fiercely. ‘I love the schloss,’ she exclaimed indignantly, ‘you know I do. And what good is my life without you?’

  Horst von Reichstein stroked her cheek wonderingly. ‘It is like that with me, too. For you, I would sell the schloss, the estate, go where you want.’

  ‘Everything I want is right here,’ said Victoria softly. ‘Do you think Sophie will mind?’

  ‘Sophie is already your ally, you know that. And she needs you. More than just a governess, as a friend, as the mother she had never known.’ He studied her flushed face tenderly. ‘When I first saw you in the station yard at Reichstein, all hot and flustered because you had fallen in the snow, I wanted to send you back to England at once. I was afraid of something I couldn’t understand, and I wanted no part of it. I tried to humiliate you, I suppose I wanted you to resign, I even wished Sophie might succeed in her efforts to get you to leave.’ He smoothed the skin of her throat caressingly. ‘But then I took you to Reichstein that morning, do you remember it? And afterwards, nothing was the same. I suppose after Elsa, I was afraid to get involved, but that didn’t stop me wanting you.’ He buried his lips in the nape of her neck. ‘Do you forgive me?’

  Victoria ran her hand round his neck, under his collar, feeling the smooth hardness of the muscles of his back and shoulders. There was a wonderful warm glowing feeling inside her. This man—this wonderful man loved her and wanted her, and she had all her life to show him how little the past mattered when the future was theirs …

  ISBN: 978-1-472-09730-9

  The Reluctant Governess

  © 1971 Anne Mather

  Published in Great Britain 2014

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited

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