Fear that something that started out so precious might somehow, inexplicably, fall apart, like waves at the Indian Ocean seashore washing away one’s handful of sand, no matter how tightly one tried to cling to it.
Fear that he couldn’t risk having his heart shattered again and survive.
Though he might not be able to make Miss Overton the sort of proposal she wanted, he very much wanted her to remain at Somers Abbey.
For his wards’ sake. And his own.
Much as he yearned to know his fate, until she made her decision, he would not have to deal with the consequences of either choice.
Closing the ledger, he leaned back in his chair and let the distant chords wash over him, the music seeping under his skin to loosen the knots of tension in his neck and shoulders.
Though it would do a much more effective job of soothing if he could hear it better. Besides, hadn’t Miss Overton invited him to sit in the salon while she played?
He decided he’d take her up on that offer. And be able to fully enjoy one of the beauties she’d brought back to his life.
Not wishing to distract her, he walked in silently and slipped into a chair. But with a sixth sense—probably the same one that always alerted him when she was near—she seemed to sense his presence. As soon as the movement concluded, she turned towards him.
‘If you are going to listen, do you have any requests?’
To his relief, the question was framed in a smile, with no trace of the awkwardness he feared she might feel upon seeing him again after his unexpected proposal. Smiling back, he said, ‘Beethoven again, if you please.’
‘Beethoven it shall be.’ Turning back to the keyboard, she said, ‘If I continue to practise it, I might even learn to play it competently, instead of dodging the most difficult parts.’
‘Your performance sounds wonderfully competent to me.’
She chuckled. ‘Which makes you a pianist’s ideal audience—uncritical and appreciative.’
Still smiling, he settled in to listen, content to lose himself in the music that filled his ears and trickled a sense of calm and content into his soul.
If she accepted him, he might look forward to evenings like this for ever.
When the final chords sounded, he gave her a round of applause. ‘That was beautiful! Dare I request an encore?’
Shaking her head, she rose from the bench and walked towards him. ‘With the girls waking so early, it’s time for me to retire. Before I do, though,’ she added, halting by his chair, ‘I wanted to let you know that, though I’m not yet completely sure, I am leaning towards accepting your kind proposal. If you are still offering it, of course.’
A wave of excitement swept through him as he stood up beside her. ‘I am. And I would be happy and honoured, should you decide to accept.’
He reached over to take her hand and bring it to his lips. ‘Thank you again for the concert. I shall bid you goodnight and live in hope.’
Though the little exhale of breath he heard as he kissed her fingertips fired his always-smouldering desire, he knew he must release her. To his surprise, though, tightening her grip, she retained his hand. Then gazed up at him.
‘You do know how to tempt me,’ she murmured, rubbing her fingers against his.
The sultry look in her eyes sent a shock through him and ratcheted desire up several notches. Was she asking for what he thought she was?
Eager enough to take a gamble, he said, ‘Do I? Then let me tempt you further.’
Tipping her chin up, he leaned down and finally, finally gave her the kiss he’d dreamt of since practically the moment he’d first seen her. And exulted that he must have read her wishes correctly, for she leaned into him.
He’d meant it to be chaste, an expression of how much he cared for her and wanted to ease her burdens. But that first, simple brush of his mouth against hers wasn’t enough.
Apparently, she didn’t think so either, for when he lifted his head to move away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down again, her mouth seeking his.
Despite an arousal now so hard it was almost pain, he truly intended to take just one more kiss. But then he simply had to trace her lips with his tongue, then slip it into her mouth and taste her.
She gasped, then opened to him and pressed closer still.
And then he was lost in her, drowning in the honeyed sweetness of her mouth, the delectable shell of her ear, the smooth soft expanse of neck she arched for him. He kissed his way down to the froth of lace of her collar and back to her mouth, where she met him tongue for tongue, her lack of expertise more than made up by her passion.
Conscious thought submerged by desire, he slid a hand down to her breast and felt the nipple tighten beneath its imprisoning layers of gown, stays and chemise. Still caressing her, he wrapped his other arm around her shoulder and bound her close, worshipping her mouth with deep, thought-numbing kisses.
A mindless imperative roared at him to bury himself in her and find bliss. Trying to resist it, he forced himself to move his hand back to her shoulder.
Where, to his surprise, she caught it and slid it back down.
Delighted to comply with her unspoken demand, he caressed her again, damning the multiple layers that barred him from touching the soft, sweet skin of her breast and the pebbled texture of her nipple. The mere thought of her, bared to the waist and open to his hands and mouth, fired him with longing.
But while he fought to limit himself just to kisses, when she pressed herself against his aching erection and moved her hand down his side, as if intending to touch him, he knew he must break off the kiss and step away.
After he did, she looked up at him, her expression befuddled, her eyes dark with passion, and her mouth so seductively reddened from his kisses it was all he could do not to pull her back into his arms.
Instead, biting back a curse, he took another step back.
She reached out to grab his wrist. ‘Don’t stop now, please! I want more.’
He uttered a ragged sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. ‘Sweet tormenter, if I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to stop. I’m thrilled that you want more. But I respect you too much to take you unless my wedding ring is on your finger. The consequences of doing so without that are too dangerous.’
For another long moment, she simply stared at him, as if the words he’d uttered made no sense. At length, she shook her head, seeming finally to break free of the sensual spell. ‘Yes, you are right, of course.’
She uttered a ragged sigh that echoed his own frustrated need. ‘Then I’d better make up my mind quickly, mustn’t I? For now, I will bid you goodnight.’ Dropping him a deep, formal curtsy, she walked towards the door.
At the threshold, she paused to glance back. ‘I’ll say goodnight and go to bed. My lonely, lonely bed.’ Giving him a saucy, come-hither look, she slipped out.
Hugh tightened his hands into fists and concentrated on taking long, even breaths as he resisted the desire to follow her.
Chapter Eighteen
Her body still throbbing with frustrated desire, her mind swerving from euphoric visions of a happy future to the possibility of heartbreak, Olivia drifted up to her room and wandered over to her bed.
The Colonel had been wise to pull away from her when he had, she thought as she hopped on to it and collapsed against the pillows. She’d been one slender scruple away from urging him to pull her on to the sofa, strip down her drawers and take her.
Not until tonight had she fully realised just how primitive and powerful the pull of passion could be. Even now, every needy, aching feminine part of her was protesting being denied that ultimate, intimate closeness.
A closeness she wanted to experience only with him. Because, she realised with sudden clarity, she wasn’t just ‘more than half’ in love with Hugh Glendenning. She’d fallen for him completely
.
Had it truly been little over a month since she’d determined to leave London? In the brief handful of weeks she’d been at Somers Abbey, her life had changed dramatically. She’d become attached to two little girls desperately in need of affection and security. And foolishly thinking she could indulge her attraction to the Colonel and remain heart-whole, she’d let herself stumble into love with him.
Even after learning of the tragedies that would make it difficult, if not impossible, for him to love again.
For a moment, agonised as she tried to decide between accepting and rejecting his proposal, a third, if craven, alternative occurred to her—packing her few things and leaving Somers Abbey.
Returning to Sara in London—and doing what? Wallowing in the misery she’d brought on herself, while she searched for a new position?
But...she’d promised Elizabeth she would remain at Somers Abbey as long as the children needed her. The little girl had only just begun to feel safe enough to laugh and play and even misbehave on occasion. Olivia couldn’t strip her of that budding sense of security just because staying on threatened her with heartache.
So she wasn’t going anywhere.
Which left her one stark choice. She could marry the fascinating, honourable, driven man she desired so much. Or simply remain governess to his wards, suppressing her love and passion for him, until time, or some female relative, relieved her of that role.
An almost impossible task.
If she meant to stay on, she might as well cast aside her doubts and accept the risk. Accept the Colonel’s proposal and throw all her heart and soul into loving him, hoping he might one day love her in return.
She held her breath, waiting for the protective little voice in her head to protest that decision. When, instead, the choice settled in with a sense of calm and rightness, she felt the first stirrings of peace descend over her troubled spirit.
Relieved to be headed towards a return of her usual calm, she began preparing for bed. Preparing for what might well be one of the last few nights she would sleep alone, she realised, excitement at the prospect of sensual fulfilment overriding her lingering anxiety.
For a moment, she considered going to find the Colonel to announce her acceptance at once. But he had doubtless already retired. She didn’t relish the prospect of creeping around this dark warren of a house, searching for his bedchamber.
Instead, she’d wait until tomorrow and inform the Colonel of her decision at her first opportunity.
* * *
As it happened, the next morning, Olivia was setting out reading books and slates in the schoolroom, preparing to give the girls their first lesson, when Mary halted on the room’s threshold. ‘The master asked if you would come to the library, miss.’
Delight, dread and anticipation washed over her. She’d let him detail whatever task had led him to summon her, then reveal her news. The knowledge that she was about to announce a decision that would have enormous consequences for the entire future course of her life stirred up nervousness and a touch of nausea in her belly.
Best to get it over with quickly, and move forward—into the rest of their lives together.
‘Tell him I’ll be down directly.’
* * *
Trying to quell her nervous excitement, Olivia halted on the library threshold. Before she could speak, or even curtsy, the Colonel said, ‘Please come in and take a seat, Miss Overton.’
Surprised by his cool, formal tone, so markedly different from the warm friendliness of the past few days, she walked over to the place he indicated.
‘What was it you wished to see me about, sir?’
As she gazed up at him after taking her seat, the look of anguish on his face sucked the breath from her. He appeared more miserable and weary than she’d ever seen him. Instinctively she knew that whatever he had to convey was far more dire than some question of supplies for the schoolroom, or finding a more appropriate room to house the new parrot.
‘What’s happened?’ she cried. ‘And what can I do to help?’
‘I’m afraid there isn’t anything you can do,’ he replied, forcing a smile. ‘Except to be careful what you wish for, I suppose. You’ll recall when you first arrived, I indicated that your period of employment might be shorter than six months, as I’d written to several female relations, looking for one who might want to take on the raising of the girls. After having received not a single offer, I’d concluded I would have to keep them here.’
Olivia’s chest tightened, already anticipating the blow. ‘But now you have an offer.’
He nodded. ‘I received a letter today from my great-aunt, Lady Laversby. Apparently she was on the Continent when my note arrived at Laversby Hall and just recently returned to find it. She writes that she would be thrilled to have the children. It would, she said, remind her of the happy time when her own long-married daughters were growing up. To sum it up, she’s already given orders for the old nursery rooms to be freshened, hired two nursery maids, recalled her daughters’ former governess and is on her way to Somers Abbey to collect the girls.’
Absently, Olivia noted the ticking of the mantel clock in the silence as she tried to wrap her mind around the shocking news. Finally, the most pertinent question surfaced. ‘You...you’re not really going to send them away with a stranger, are you? When they are just now, finally, beginning to feel at home? At home...with us?’
Sighing, he wiped a hand across his brow. ‘As I’m sure you’re aware, one of the driving reasons for my offering you a marriage of convenience was to ensure that a proper female would oversee the upbringing of my wards. Much as I dislike having to displace them again, my great-aunt could provide that. She’s a warm, outgoing, sympathetic woman who genuinely loves children. I’m sure, in time, the girls will flourish with her.’
Her concern for the girls distracting her, for the moment, from considering the implications his decision would mean for her, Olivia stared at him. ‘But...you told me yourself you’d become...fond of them and I know they care about you! Are you really going to just...let them go?’
‘What else can I do?’ he cried out. ‘Lady Laversby has the means, and the staff, to create a perfect environment for them. Wardrobes full of pretty dresses, toys, dolls, trips to London, nursery maids to wait on their every need. I can’t give them that. Not now. Perhaps not for years to come.’
‘But those things are only of surface importance! As one who has sustained enough losses to know, pretty dresses and dolls and servants can’t compare to being somewhere you feel secure, with someone you can depend upon to love and care for you! Please, please, if you care about them at all, don’t uproot them again!’
He closed his eyes, as if bracing himself against a pain too difficult to bear, before continuing, ‘You haven’t yet asked what I planned to do about my other, major reason for suggesting a marriage of convenience—securing your future. But despite my concern for that, and the girls, I should never have allowed myself to propose, when all I have to offer is debts...and brokenness.’
The implications of what he’d just said hit her with the force of a hammer blow. ‘So you are...withdrawing that offer.’
Giving her no answer, he jumped up from behind the desk, pacing the room in anguished silence before finally stopping beside her.
‘You can’t imagine how spectacularly wrong my marriage went. I wouldn’t wish that kind of misery on anyone again—myself, or anyone else.’
It struck her then that he didn’t know she was aware of the real circumstances surrounding his wife’s death. Now, with him already upset, didn’t seem the right time to enlighten him.
Besides, he’d just confirmed her worst fears—that he had offered for her, not for the chance to build a future and recover from the tragedies of the past, but to provide for his wards—and save her from a lifetime in service.
She ought to nod and say she
understood, and retire with as much dignity as she could muster, grateful she hadn’t humiliated herself by blurting out on arrival her acceptance of the proposal he had just withdrawn.
But despite all the reasons she should remain silent, she couldn’t help seizing one last chance to argue for their future.
‘Why do you feel you must be responsible for the happiness and well-being of everyone? The girls, perhaps—they are just children. But I’m an adult. As I told you before, it is my job to make the best of where I am—and who I’m with. To face, and communicate about, any difficulties that might arise. The tragedies life throws at one can make any of us splinter and crack. It’s not weakness, but strength, to reach out to someone else, someone who truly cares for one’s well-being, to help weather them.’
Seeing the turmoil so clearly written on his face, she wanted to push him harder. But she’d already gone further than she should. Her mother would have expired of mortification on the spot had she been present to hear her.
‘You don’t understand—how could you?’ he said softly at last. Looking at her with longing—and resignation—he said, ‘I can’t take the chance of ruining any more lives. Lady Laversby should arrive tomorrow. She indicated in her note that she wished to make only a short stay, perhaps just overnight. She’s anxious to meet the girls and escort them to their new home.’
Willing herself not to complete her humiliation by bursting into tears, Olivia swallowed hard. Hugh Glendenning obviously desired her and she was almost certain he cared for her, too. Perhaps enough to glimpse, glimmering on the horizon, the same hazy vision of a happy future together that beckoned her.
A future they could never reach unless he was willing to move beyond the past. But sadly, he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, take that leap.
‘So that’s that. You will, I hope, at least tell them in advance what is going to happen?’ she asked, trying to keep the bitterness and distress from her voice.
The Tempting of the Governess Page 20