‘Really, Papa?’ For once Amanda completely forgot her usual reserve when in her father’s company, as she instead jumped up and down excitedly. ‘Oh, may we, Mrs Leighton? May we?’ She looked up at Elena appealingly with those beguiling sapphire-blue eyes.
Much as Elena loved the thought of sitting on a blanket beneath one of the splendid oak trees in the garden, or possibly beside the huge lake beyond the gardens at the back of the house, and enjoying a leisurely alfresco luncheon, she was unsure of the wisdom of spending even that amount of time in close proximity with Adam, following the inappropriate behaviour between them, and her confusion, and his frosty demeanour towards her, ever since.
‘Mrs Leighton?’ Adam prompted when she didn’t answer.
Elena deliberately kept her attention centred on Amanda. ‘I am sure you do not need my permission to join your father for luncheon, Amanda,’ she said with a smile. ‘I, however, have some things in the schoolroom in need of my attention—’
‘Such as…?’ Adam challenged her coolly; he had initially been unsure of the wisdom of inviting Elena to join them in the first place, but now found, contrarily, that he was more than a little irritated at her reluctance to accept that invitation now he had made it, dash it all!
A frown appeared between those blue-green eyes. ‘I have tomorrow’s lessons to prepare—’
‘And, as such, they can as easily be prepared this evening,’ he dismissed briskly. ‘It is too fine a day to spend all of it shut indoors.’
‘I would not wish to intrude.’ Her smile was overbright, her gaze not quite meeting his.
Adam’s mouth tightened. It was as he had thought might be the case; after his appalling behaviour, she could barely stand to look at him, let alone spend any more time in his company than she had to. Perhaps if he tried to ease her nerves? ‘It would be the ideal occasion on which to show off what I am presuming is one of your new gowns,’ he cajoled, while allowing himself to inwardly admire the way in which her deep rose-coloured gown perfectly complemented her ivory complexion and the darkness of her hair.
She wore those dark tresses in a less-severe style today, too, several loose curls at her temples and nape giving her a much more youthful appearance, bringing about a sudden recollection of how she had not been altogether honest with him in regard to her true age when she had first applied for the job.
His mouth tightened as he privately wondered what other secrets the puzzling Elena Leighton might be keeping from him…
Her cheeks blushed the same becoming rose as her gown. ‘Mrs Hepworth was able to finish and deliver this first gown early yesterday evening.’
‘Her promptness is to be commended.’ He turned away to look at his daughter. ‘Now, I believe Amanda, for one, is eager for her luncheon.’
Amanda beamed up at him. ‘We are really to have a picnic together, Papa?’
‘I have said so, yes.’
Amanda did a happy little skip. ‘I have never been on a picnic before.’
A frown appeared on Adam’s brow as he looked at his young daughter’s glowingly excited face. His marriage to Fanny had been a mistake, for which he had paid dearly, and he had always been grateful that Amanda had been far too young, when her mother died, to have ever witnessed the unhappiness that had existed between her mother and father.
But Adam had sincerely believed, until his conversations with Elena this past week, that he had been a good father to Amanda, given the circumstances, and his own lack of experience and knowledge in that regard. Amanda’s excitement now, at the thought of such a simple pleasure as the sharing of a picnic together, once again led him to question that belief.
He forced the tension from his shoulders. ‘Then it is for Mrs Leighton and me to do everything we can to ensure that you enjoy this, your very first one.’
Amanda reached out and wrapped both her arms about one of his as she gave him a hug. ‘Thank you, Papa. Oh, thank you!’
‘Mrs Leighton?’
Elena had watched the exchange between father and daughter with increasingly softening feelings; far from chastising Amanda for wrinkling his perfectly tailored superfine, as many gentlemen of the ton might have done, Adam had actually placed his hand on top of his daughter’s in a gesture of affection. A gesture not lost on Amanda as she gazed up at him adoringly.
It took so little for Amanda to forget, for a time at least, to be that restrained little girl who normally spent only a very short time each day with her father; Amanda’s eyes gleamed like sapphires, her face alight with anticipation at the prospect of such a treat.
‘Mrs Leighton?’ Adam repeated with unaccustomed patience at her continued silence.
Elena could not speak momentarily for the lump of emotion that had formed in her throat, her eyes having gone quite misty. She swallowed now to clear the dryness from her throat. ‘If you are sure I will not be intruding…?’
‘I would not have invited you if I had considered that to be a possibility,’ he came back crisply.
No, of course he would not. Elena still continued to forget, on occasion, that she was now a governess rather than the beloved granddaughter of a duke. That same accomplished young woman who had once acted as mistress of her grandfather’s estates, and as such, the person used to issuing the invitations, rather than the other way about. ‘In that case, I should love to join you both, thank you.’ She gave an almost regal inclination of her head—for she did not always have to forget she possessed the graciousness of extremely well-born manners!
‘How are you liking Cambridgeshire, Mrs Leighton?’
Elena—sitting primly on the same blanket where Adam, hat removed, lay in relaxed repose a short distance away, their picnic luncheon eaten—turned from watching Amanda scamper about the garden chasing elusive butterflies. ‘I like it very much from the little I saw of it on the drive here.’
He raised dark brows. ‘Is that a complaint regarding the lack of any outings since your arrival?’
Elena’s cheeks felt once again as if they had flushed the same deep rose as her new gown. Why did he constantly put her on the back foot? ‘It is not my place to complain, my lord,’ she murmured.
He snorted in patent disbelief. ‘I seem to recall you telling me it is “not your place” to advise me how to bring up my own daughter—and yet you have done so, on several occasions. I believe you also claimed it is “not your place” to tell me how and when I should deal with the tenants on my estate, whilst at the same time pointing out that it is my duty to attend church on a Sunday, in order that I might converse with them.’ One dark teasing brow flicked up to gently mock her. ‘Tell me, madam, why should I now believe you when you say it is “not your place” to complain about the lack of entertainment provided since your arrival here?’
Elena’s cheeks had grown hotter and hotter with each word that he spoke. Each damning, truthful word. For she had done those things. Out of a sense of rightness. The first for Amanda’s benefit, the second out of consideration for the workers and tenants of Adam’s estate. But Elena felt sure that the real Mrs Leighton would never have forgotten ‘her place’ as to be so forward, or so outspoken, in her views.
She winced. ‘I was merely commenting on the fact that I cannot make an educated judgement as to the attractions or otherwise of Cambridgeshire when I have seen so little of it—have I said something to amuse you, my lord?’
Adam exploded into full-throated laughter at the look of indignation on Elena’s beautiful face. Indeed, he had laughed more in this woman’s company than he had for—in fact, he could not remember how long it had been since he had last laughed with such spontaneity!
Admittedly, he was laughing at her this time rather than with her, but it nevertheless felt good to once again experience that lightness of humour and heart, to truly enjoy a woman’s company. ‘Do not look so indignant.’ He was tempted to lift his hand to reach up and smooth the frown from Elena’s brow with his fingertips, and at the same time enjoy touching her smooth and velvetsoft
skin. His laughter slowly faded as he strongly resisted that temptation. ‘Perhaps I should consider organising a dinner party so that you might meet some of my neighbours?’
Elena looked more than a little alarmed. ‘Even if you were to do so, the governess of your young daughter could not possibly be one of the guests at your dinner table.’
Adam raised an arrogant brow. ‘I believe it is for me to say who may or may not be seated at my dinner table.’
She gave a sharp shake of her head. ‘And, as such, you know it would not be fitting for me to be present, my lord.’
Yes, Adam knew better than most the dictates of society—he should do, Fanny had broken them often enough! Which was why he always took care to do the opposite, mainly by absenting himself from society completely.
What was it Royston had called him several evenings ago? Besides a prickly bastard? Ah, yes, Royston had accused him of being a recluse. Not completely accurate, but close enough; removing himself from inclusion in society was by far the easiest way of ensuring that Adam broke none of society’s rigid rules. As a widower, his invitation for the beautiful governess of his young daughter to join his other guests for dinner would certainly cause every bit of that gossip and speculation he had managed to avoid since Fanny’s death.
Adam frowned. ‘You are far too beautiful to want to hide away in the schoolroom forever.’
‘I am content there,’ she insisted softly.
‘You have no ambition in life other than to be a governess to a six-year-old girl?’
She blinked long dark lashes. ‘Amanda will not always be aged six.’
He gave a tight smile. ‘I believe you are being deliberately obtuse.’
Elena had no idea what she was being, what she was thinking. How could she, when Adam was looking up at her with eyes as soft and dark a grey as a pigeon’s wing? ‘What—what else should I be if not governess to Amanda, or someone like her?’
The black of Adam’s pupils seemed to expand so that they almost encompassed that soft velvet grey even as he moved closer. ‘Have you never considered—?’
‘Papa, come and see the tiny kitten I have found!’ Amanda, totally relaxed in her father’s company following their picnic, called excitedly to him from across the garden.
Elena continued to be caught in the spell of those velvet grey-eyes for several long seconds more before she made a deliberate effort to break away, turning and looking across to where Amanda held a black kitten cradled gently in her arms. ‘Careful it is not feral!’ She gathered her skirts before rising quickly to her feet. ‘My lord…!’
She looked at Adam imploringly as he rose to his booted feet beside her.
Adam cursed himself for being a fool even as he hurriedly crossed the garden to Amanda and quickly relieved her of the tiny black kitten, knowing he had been about to make a scandalous suggestion to Elena that would have resulted in her either accepting that offer or slapping his face for daring to voice it. Neither of which he wanted.
He did not want nor need a mistress.
Not even one he found as amusing and desirable as Elena Leighton. Most especially one he found as amusing and desirable as Elena Leighton!
And if she had slapped his face, for daring to make her such a reprehensible offer, then she would no doubt have given him notice only seconds later, too. For they could not continue in the way they had been if he were ever to make such an offer and she were to refuse it.
Leaving Amanda without a governess she liked and Adam without the unexpected source of pleasure, and amusement, the brief times he spent with Elena were becoming to him. It was an unpalatable thought and one he swiftly pushed out of his head.
‘It is all right, is it not, Papa…?’ his daughter looked up at him uncertainly.
Adam focused on the tiny kitten in his hand, knowing by the healthy glow to its grey-green eyes, as it looked up at him so trustingly, that it was not diseased. The soft rumbling purr that shook its little body was indicative of it not being feral, either. ‘Perfectly all right.’ Adam nodded as he gently replaced the kitten back into Amanda’s waiting arms. ‘But it is not wise to pick up stray animals, pet.’
‘Where do you think it came from, Papa?’ Amanda stroked the kitten even as she looked about the otherwise deserted garden.
His expression softened as he appreciated how pretty his daughter looked today in her yellow gown, a ribbon of the same colour tied about her golden curls. Tall for her age, and already giving indications of the beauty she would possess when she was older, Adam had no doubts that he would one day be beating his daughter’s beaus away from his door. ‘I suggest you try looking in the stables for its mother and siblings,’ he murmured indulgently. ‘There is usually a litter or two hiding in there.’
‘You are not hurt, Amanda?’ A slightly breathless Elena prompted huskily.
Adam’s expression tightened as he looked down at the woman he had moment ago considered asking to become his mistress, damn it!
Admittedly, Elena looked very beautiful today, in that rose-coloured gown and with her hair in that softer style. And, yes, she had once again succeeded in amusing him, in making him laugh, in a way no other woman ever had, but he could not and would not lower his guard by inviting any woman to become his permanent mistress. Most especially he could not ask it of the widowed Elena Leighton. If she accepted, he would no doubt be provided with amusement for a matter of days or possibly weeks, but ultimately it would deprive Amanda of her governess forever.
Much better if he were to remove himself from this situation, if only briefly, and find some other woman—a woman who offered far fewer complications—to scratch the sexual itch that presently demanded satisfaction!
He looked over at his daughter. ‘Perhaps Mrs Leighton would care to accompany you to the stables?’ He turned to address Elena. ‘I have some business to attend to this afternoon before my departure later this evening.’
Elena looked at him sharply. ‘You are going back to London?’ There had not even been so much as the suggestion of it whilst they were eating their picnic luncheon, or of him going anywhere else today. Not, she acknowledged ruefully, that he owed her any explanation as to his movements.
A sentiment he completely echoed, if the expression of arrogant disdain on the haughty handsomeness of his face was any indication. ‘As it happens, I am not returning to London, but have a business appointment elsewhere—’
‘You are going away, Papa?’ Amanda, momentarily distracted from where she now sat on the grass playing with the kitten, looked up at him in pouting disappointment. ‘How long will you be gone?’
‘Two, perhaps three days—’
‘Do you have to go?’ Amanda cut in pleadingly. ‘I have so enjoyed our picnic today that I thought we might have another one tomorrow?’
Her father smiled slightly. ‘Picnics can only be considered fun if they are a treat rather than an everyday occurrence.’
‘But—’
‘Amanda,’ he reproved softly.
‘But I so wanted another picnic tomorrow!’ Amanda stated mutinously—a mutiny that Elena, at least, recognised as a precursor to one of the little girl’s rare temper tantrums.
He shook his head. ‘There is urgent business in need of my attention.’
‘There is always urgent business in need of your attention!’
‘Possibly because my estates do not run themselves—’
‘Go away, then!’ Amanda jumped to her feet, two bright spots of angry colour in her cheeks as she stamped one slippered foot on the grass in temper. ‘You always do!’ She gave a sob before turning and running across the lawns, then disappearing inside the house with a flourish of golden curls.
‘Do you see where your interference has led?’ Adam accused as he continued to look across at the house with narrowed and disapproving eyes.
Elena’s own eyes widened indignantly. ‘My interference…?’
He shot her an impatient glance. ‘I have never, before today, needed to expla
in my movements or actions to my six-year-old child!’
She gasped. ‘And you believe I am to blame for that?’
‘I believe your suggestion that I needed to “spend more time with my daughter” is to blame for that, madam,’ he bit out. ‘In the past Amanda has always been content with the time we spend together each day. Now I’ve spent more time with her, she’s suddenly not satisfied.’
Elena frowned at the unfairness of these accusations. ‘She has perhaps seemed content with only a half hour, perhaps—’
‘She was content, damn it!’
‘In your opinion.’
He turned to look down at her with chill grey eyes. ‘Yes, in my opinion. Which, unless you have forgotten, is not only the opinion of Amanda’s father, but also that of your employer.’
Elena’s gaze lowered at this timely reminder of her position in this gentleman’s household; she was becoming far too fond of forgetting that fact. ‘I will go and talk to her.’
‘Does she often throw such tantrums?’ Adam asked grimly. He realised he was probably overreacting, but Amanda’s display of temper just now had been far too much like that of her late mother for him to be able to address the matter in his usual calm manner.
Fanny had been wont to throw such tempers, in public as well as privately, whenever she could not get her own way, but Adam had never before witnessed such a display from his young daughter. Perhaps because he had spent so little time in her company in the past? If that should be the case, then it was perhaps as well that he had discovered Amanda’s temper before it was too late to be rectified, for there was no way, absolutely no way that he would tolerate the same selfish wilfulness in her as he had experienced so often in his late wife.
‘No, she does not,’ Elena assured him firmly. ‘And I am sure it has only happened on this occasion because Amanda is a little upset at your imminent departure, after having enjoyed such a lovely afternoon in your company.’
Adam’s gaze narrowed ominously. ‘Do you think to humour me, madam?’
Warmth entered her cheeks. ‘I was only—’
Not Just a Governess Page 7