The Tempting of the Governess

by Julia Justiss

  As for maintaining her sangfroid when next she met him, she would simply pretend that her time as his dinner guest had never happened and resume her original brisk, matter-of-fact demeanour. She would see him in future only when she needed to consult him on a matter concerning the children and do that as seldom as possible.

  Except...except when she needed to try to bring them together.

  Exasperated, she hopped into her bed. It would be impossible to avoid the man completely if she meant to engineer that rapprochement between guardian and wards she felt both needed so badly.

  In fact, knowing now the whole of what had befallen the Colonel in India, she felt he needed the pure, uncomplicated love and devotion only a child could offer even more than she’d initially imagined.

  Well, she would manage it somehow. By being brisk, efficient and impersonal. And never, ever, putting herself close to him, or dancing with him, again.

  Punching her pillow and lying back, she had to laugh. There weren’t likely to be many opportunities in future for a governess to dance with the master.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning after breakfast, Hugh dawdled in the library. He would need to leave momentarily to meet Stephen and ride out, stopping along the way, as they’d discussed at breakfast, to call on the Squire.

  His friend was probably right in predicting that an invitation to dinner would be forthcoming. In the English countryside as much as in India, visitors from other parts of world excited the interest of the neighbours. Besides, since he’d hidden himself away and turned aside potential invitations with the excuse of being too preoccupied with work, he knew the Squire was curious about him and eager to become better acquainted.

  At breakfast, Stephen had also made him an oblique apology for pushing him into dancing last night, to which he’d returned simply a nod of acknowledgement.

  He owed Miss Overton a much more articulate apology and it should be delivered immediately. However, his uncertainty over how to do it, and what to say when he did, had kept him lingering in the library.

  He was too honest with himself to blame what had happened just on the wine, the magic of the music and the intimacy of the dance. Miss Overton had attracted him from the first. If last evening proved anything, it showed that his control over his desires was not as firm as he’d imagined it.

  He would have to reinforce it. He didn’t intend to spoil the burgeoning trust between them, or let some further glimpse of lust scare away the immensely capable woman who was making the duty of overseeing his wards so much easier.

  Even more important, he didn’t want her to perceive any inkling of his interest in and growing regard for her. Anything that might have her develop...expectations.

  He sighed. It would be so easy to develop expectations himself. After dealing with an unexpectedly demanding spouse around whom he’d sometimes felt he must walk on eggshells, Miss Overton was refreshingly straightforward and resilient. He didn’t have to watch every word to avoid distressing her—indeed, she was more likely to take him aback with her tart remarks. She was also reassuringly independent, able to make decisions on her own, only consulting him when she ran into some obstacle—like the housekeeper—she needed his assistance to overcome. Sometimes she even challenged his direction and was never shy about putting forward her own opinions.

  But excellent as she was, the colossal failure of his marriage had left him with no desire ever to repeat the experience. He mustn’t allow himself to consider—or let his behaviour hint to her that he might consider—chancing wedlock again.

  Exasperated with himself for his indecision, he jumped up from his chair.

  Choose simple words, man, and just do it. And in future, rein in both desire and fascination by keeping your distance.

  He would look for her first in the schoolroom, which he must pass by to reach the bedchamber wing where Stephen was billeted, then proceed to collect his friend. If he could catch her attention as he walked past and beckon her into the hallway, he could deliver the apology quickly, privately and in a straightforward manner that befitted an exchange between employer and employee.

  Perhaps more important, with his wards nearby, awaiting her return, he could deliver it in a setting that did not tempt either of them to linger.

  * * *

  Quickly navigating the warren of halls and stairs, he approached the schoolroom. Steeling himself to the murmur of young voices—he needed to do better by his wards, but not today—he glanced through the partly opened door to discover Miss Overton seated at the nursery table, reading with her charges.

  The nursery table so recently brought down from the attic. His mind flew back to that moment under the eaves when he’d first inhaled the subtle scent of her rose perfume. When an intense consciousness of her as a woman had first stolen over him...the same attraction that had got him into so much trouble last night.

  An attraction that therefore needed to be ruthlessly squelched.

  He was shaking his head over how he was to manage that when she looked up and spied him. To his quick wave of a hand indicating he didn’t wish her to invite him in, she raised an enquiring eyebrow, then nodded when his gesture towards the hallway silently conveyed his desire for her to join him there.

  ‘I must speak with your guardian, girls,’ she said as she rose. ‘I’ll only be a minute.’

  * * *

  Quelling with irritation the skitter of nerves that seemed to afflict her whenever her employer was near, Olivia wondered what the Colonel wished to see her about.

  Surely not to reprimand her for her undignified flight from the music room last night. He couldn’t help but agree that the less said about that unfortunate incident, the better.

  It must be some minor detail, otherwise he would have bid her to come to his library—wouldn’t he? She sincerely hoped that episode hadn’t ruined the growing rapport they’d developed—an ease she would need if she were to continue working effectively with him on his wards’ behalf.

  If she met him with composure, without seeming flustered or embarrassed, surely he would act in kind, she told herself as she crossed the schoolroom, leaving the door ajar behind her.

  Yet much as she tried to armour herself against him, even from several feet away, she sensed the vital force of him that had so intoxicated her last night as she danced in his arms.

  Be brisk, efficient and impersonal, she reminded herself, trying to resist his appeal.

  Halting as far from him as possible while still appearing respectful, she said, ‘You wished to speak with me, Colonel?’

  ‘I did. First, I owe you an apology for my...overly familiar behaviour during the waltz last night. It was not the conduct I expect of myself as a gentleman and I am sincerely sorry. It won’t happen again.’

  Even if I wish it might?

  Squashing that inappropriate response, she said, ‘No need for apologies, Colonel. Waltzing can lead to madness, sometimes—on the part of the lady no less than the gentleman.’ Which was as far as she could go towards admitting he hadn’t been the only one carried away by music and desire.

  ‘I hope the last few evenings, when you’ve been kind enough to grace my dinner table, haven’t given you the...wrong impression. I never intended to cross the line of the respect and protection an employer owes his employee, or to take advantage of my position to...lure you into a situation that made you feel uncomfortable. Clearly, I did so last night. I want to assure you that you need not fear being subjected to such inappropriate behaviour again.’

  She ought to be relieved that he was confirming what she’d already suspected about his sense of honour and his commitment to doing the proper thing for—and with—an employee.

  Instead, she felt...sadness and a sense of loss for something longed-for that was never to be. Along with a hurt that went deeper than it should that he seemed able to dismiss so easily an incident which h
ad shaken her so profoundly.

  But then, what had she expected? Of course it would affect her, an inexperienced maiden, more profoundly than a man who had loved, and made love to, the beautiful woman he’d made his wife. Why should he feel anything more than a twinge of conscience at becoming momentarily swept away by the long-denied feel of a woman in his arms—even a tall, plain, opinionated spinster like her?

  Suppressing the hurt, she nodded briskly. ‘Let us speak no more of it. It would probably be best if we return to our customary places, the master dining with his guest and the governess in the nursery with the children.’

  Not that she’d really expected him to protest, but she felt another frisson of sadness when he nodded. ‘I agree. In fact, I was about to inform you that Mr Saulter is probably correct in predicting that when we call on the Squire this afternoon, he will invite us to dinner tonight, which will be Mr Saulter’s last evening at Somers Abbey. He leaves tomorrow to visit family in Yorkshire.’

  So Cinderella’s run of magical evenings was definitely at an end. Tonight, she would return to her solitary governess existence. Olivia tried to tell herself she was glad, that it was better to avoid temptation than try to resist it.

  Resist the employer who was to her temptation incarnate, but who intended to treat her only as an employee.

  ‘One other matter,’ he continued, his voice and manner now completely matter of fact. ‘Mansfield came to me yesterday about another instance of Mrs Wallace creating a disturbance with Cook and the tweeny. I hadn’t planned to do anything about her position until later, but with the staff already reduced, I can’t have her harassing my remaining employees. I shall have to deal with her now.’

  Apparently, he was able to dismiss the matter of their inappropriate behaviour and move on much more easily than she was. Somehow, the impersonal manner she’d initially hoped he’d adopt when they met after that disturbing waltz was turning out to be more distressing than reassuring.

  Trying, despite the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, to respond equally with calm, she said, ‘You intend to discharge her?’

  ‘I should like to do so immediately, but I have to have someone to run the house. You certainly have the experience, but you’re fully occupied with the children. It’s not as easy to find staff here.’

  Firmly suppressing her turbulent emotions, she said, ‘What about Travers, your mother’s former lady’s maid? I was told that she filled that position when the last housekeeper retired upon your mother’s death, before your brother hired Mrs Wallace. I know she is in retirement, but she’s still quite spry and capable. Perhaps she would agree to temporarily fill the role again, until you can find a replacement.’

  His eyes brightening, he nodded. ‘An excellent suggestion. It would be good to have her at Somers Abbey again. I will be preoccupied with my guest until Saulter leaves, but after that, as soon as my work allows, I shall call on her and ask.’

  Which gave her the perfect opening to try to advance the true purpose for her continuing presence at Somers Abbey—bringing guardian and wards together.

  ‘Might the girls and I go with you?’ she asked. ‘When I visited Travers, she expressed a great interest in meeting them. I know they would love to hear any tales she could tell them about their papa when he was a boy.’

  Raising his eyebrows, he said, ‘When did you visit Travers?’

  ‘The other day, after I took the girls for their first long walk. They managed to muddy their gowns thoroughly, particularly the fine embroidery work around the hems. I don’t imagine a gentleman would realise it, but cleaning such delicate stitching without damaging it is quite difficult. Knowing I was responsible for creating a good deal of extra work for her, I felt I should deliver the gowns personally, with my apologies. Mrs Travers was kind enough to ask me to stay for tea and was curious about the girls. I promised one day I’d bring them to meet her.’

  He nodded. ‘I imagine she would be curious. With their father visiting here so often, she knew him well. I’m sure the girls would like to hear more about their papa as a boy.’ He laughed ruefully. ‘I only hope Travers won’t relate too many of my own escapades while she’s at it.’

  ‘Escapades by their stern, unsmiling guardian? I imagine they would enjoy those stories even more!’

  He shook his head. ‘If it will help little Sophie to look on me less like an ogre ready to devour her if she opens her mouth, a few embarrassing stories might be worth it.’

  Emboldened by his positive response to that initiative, she pressed further. ‘If you will allow us to accompany you when you visit her, along the way, might you point out some of the places you enjoyed playing as a boy? So I may take the children back later. They have been cooped up so much of late, I would like to get them out every day for a good long walk.’

  She held her breath, hoping that she hadn’t pushed him too far. But knowing, with her employer’s dedication to his work, there wouldn’t be many opportunities to get guardian and wards together outside the formal setting of his library, she needed to make the most of the few that came along.

  To her relief, after a long moment during which she feared he might change his mind about allowing them to come along on his visit to Travers, he exhaled a long sigh. ‘I suppose on the way back from the village, I could show you several places you might take them to play. And several that, though I romped there myself as a boy, you should avoid, as they are much too dangerous for young children.’

  ‘Information I should very much like to have! I want to take them all around the estate, so they can become more familiar with and appreciate their father’s homeland, but I certainly don’t want to put them into any danger.’

  ‘No, you want only to nurture and protect them.’ The slight edge of sadness in his voice had her looking up at him with concern. He gave her a half-smile—of reassurance, perhaps?

  ‘As do you—despite the cost,’ she replied softly, wanting him to know she appreciated the pain he endured to associate with them.

  ‘With your help, I shall do so. My very commanding Miss Overton.’ As their gazes caught and held, his smile faded.

  Olivia felt that sense of connection surge between them, even stronger than before. And she was almost certain she saw in his eyes the same bittersweet longing she was trying so hard to quell.

  ‘Are we going to visit someone?’

  Startled by Elizabeth’s voice, Olivia jerked her gaze free. What was it about the potent force the Colonel exerted that made her forget there was anyone else nearby? She looked over at the little girl, who stood by the open doorway, wondering just how much she had overheard.

  Meanwhile, kneeling down to the child’s level, the Colonel said, ‘We were talking about taking you to visit a lady who knew your father well when he was a boy.’

  ‘There is a lady here who knew Papa?’ Elizabeth echoed, with a wistful longing on her face that touched Olivia’s heart.

  Poor mite. She would instinctively latch on to anything that offered her a glimpse back at the happiness and security she’d had when her father was alive, she thought.

  ‘Yes, Elizabeth,’ the Colonel replied. ‘Mrs Travers knew your papa almost as well as I did.’

  ‘Can we go tomorrow?’

  Olivia watched the rather aloof and formal expression the Colonel usually wore around the children soften—as if he, too, was touched by the little girl’s obvious need.

  ‘Not tomorrow, I’m afraid. But soon after.’

  ‘I should like that so much,’ she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.

  A look of pain flitted the Colonel’s face, so briefly she wouldn’t have caught it had she not been staring at him in a most unladylike manner. Replacing it with a determined smile, he said, ‘We shall have to make it happen, then, won’t we?’

  ‘We mustn’t keep the Colonel, Elizabeth,’ she said, motioning the child back toward
s the school table. ‘I’ll join you in a minute.’ For the rapprochement she wanted to happen, she mustn’t let the girls cause the Colonel more pain than he could bear.

  The child dutifully retreated into the schoolroom, then paused by the table to make her guardian a curtsy. ‘Thank you, Colonel. I’ll be waiting and waiting to meet the lady.’

  ‘We will go soon, I promise, Elizabeth,’ he replied, that softened look on his face again. ‘Goodbye to you and to you, Miss Overton.’

  ‘Good day, Colonel. Please convey my farewells and good wishes to Mr Saulter.’

  ‘I will do so.’ Giving her a nod, he turned and continued down the corridor.

  As she walked back into the schoolroom, Olivia felt a swell of hope that, before she left Somers Abbey, she might have the satisfaction of seeing the grieving guardian and bereft children grow close enough to comfort each other.

  As for her unsuitable attraction to the Colonel... That unexpected surge of connection between them towards the last might have made her foolish heart rejoice, but she needed to focus instead on the bittersweet look he’d given her immediately after. An expression of sadness and longing which said without words that however attracted to her he might be, he was fully committed to re-imposing on them the normal constraints of a relationship between employer and governess.

  She’d already promised herself she would not try to entice him into forgetting them again.

  Tonight, she would turn away again from the tantalising glimmer of life as it used to be and return to the servant’s role she now filled. Over the next few days and weeks, she would work to snuff out her hopeless attraction to her employer.

  But if, over her time at Somers Abbey, she could reconcile the Colonel and the children, that would be enough.

  It would have to be.