‘I am well aware of what you were doing, Mrs Leighton.’ He grimaced. ‘Nor was there anything “little” about Amanda’s display of bad manners.’ Adam’s frown didn’t bode well for the child. ‘It was a spoilt and wilful display which cannot be overlooked.’
Elena looked dismayed. ‘Oh, but—’
‘No, Mrs Leighton, it is my belief that it is my having listened to you which has brought about this unpleasantness in the first place,’ he insisted.
She looked up at him pleadingly. ‘If you will only allow me to talk with Amanda—’
‘I advise that, whilst you are doing so, you are sure to convey my deep displeasure in her behaviour just now,’ Adam said as he crossed to the blanket to pick up his hat before placing it upon his head. ‘I will speak to her on the matter upon my return.’
‘And when might we expect that to be?’ Elena dared to venture, only to rear back slightly as she now found herself the focus of his displeasure. ‘I should not have asked,’ she acknowledged quickly.
A nerve pulsed in his rigidly clenched jaw. ‘I trust that your inclusion in our picnic today has not caused you to once again misunderstand your “place” in my household, madam!’ He gave her one last dismissive glance before striding forcefully across the lawn towards the house.
Elena had felt the colour drain from her cheeks as she was very firmly—and with a touch of deliberate cruelty, perhaps?—reminded that her ‘place’ in Adam Hawthorne’s household was only that of a servant.
Chapter Seven
‘Why didn’t you let us know you were to be here this evening, my lord?’
Adam kept his gaze guarded as he looked up at the blousily beautiful woman currently pouring the red wine the same ruby colour as her painted lips, which he had ordered to be served with his late evening meal at the coaching inn he was to stay at for the night, situated thirty miles or so from his estate in Cambridgeshire.
Josie was the widow of the late innkeeper and a woman whose favours Adam had accepted a time or two when he had travelled through to Cambridgeshire in the past. A woman with auburn hair and come-hither brown eyes, her low-necked red gown doing very little to hide the voluptuous swell—and nor was it intended to do so!—of her considerable charms.
Charms that, unfortunately, were of absolutely no interest to Adam this evening. Nor were those of any other woman but the one he could not, should not, even think of wanting…‘Do not fret, Josie,’ he drawled drily, ‘I am well aware that some other lucky gentleman has already beaten me into sharing your bed tonight.’ Josie was as generous with her invitations as she was warm in her bed.
She gave him a saucy grin. ‘None that I wouldn’t see off in a minute if’n you was to say the word…?’
‘I fear I am too exhausted tonight to do you justice, Josie.’ Adam smiled to take the sting out of his refusal, knowing the fault lay with his desire for another woman rather than any diminishing of the charms of this woman’s warm invitation for him to enjoy her plump and alluring curves.
She returned his smile to show she had taken no offence at that refusal. ‘In that case, I hope it’s because ye’ve found yourself a decent woman to satisfy ya needs.’
Adam’s smile grew rueful. ‘Is that not a contradiction in terms?’ He frowned as he realised how pompous he had just sounded. Incomprehensible, perhaps, to a woman who felt no qualms whatsoever in admitting she could neither read nor write, but could count any amount of money accurately and quickly. He shook his head. ‘What I meant to say—’
‘I knows as what ye meant, my lord,’ Josie dismissed unconcernedly. ‘Even so, I would’ve expected a good-looking gent, and an expert and satisfying lover such as yerself, to ’ave found a suitable lady and remarried afore now.’
‘I thank you for the compliment, Josie.’ Adam smiled.
‘Ain’t no compliment when it’s the truth,’ she insisted.
Gratified as he was for Josie’s praise, it was nevertheless a little difficult for him to completely accept the second part of Josie’s compliment, when his own wife had admitted to being adulterous with another man only a month after their wedding!
Not that he had ever heard any complaints from any of the women he had taken to his bed before he married Fanny, as those liaisons had always resulted in the enjoyment of mutual pleasure. Since Fanny had died, however, he had preferred to pay for that pleasure, so he supposed it was not in the best interest of any of those women to show dissatisfaction in his performance, was it?
Josie gave him a shrewd narrow-eyed glance. ‘I hope you’ll excuse me for being so bold, my lord, but that wife o’ your’n didn’t know ’ow to appreciate a good thing when she were married to it!’
Adam let out a bark of laughter as he leant back in his chair. ‘You are very good for a man’s ego, Josie.’ He raised his glass to her in a toast before taking a sip of the ruby-red wine.
‘But the answer’s still no, I’m guessing…?’ She quirked an auburn brow knowingly.
‘I am afraid so, yes.’ Adam frowned his inner irritation as he slowly placed his glass back down onto the table, knowing that he had lied just now when he claimed to be too tired to do this lady justice in her bed; the reason for his uninterest lay much closer to home. His home.
Out of sheer contrariness—or perhaps desperation!—he had been away from Hawthorne Park for a total of four days now, tomorrow, the day he expected to return there, being the fifth day. And not one of those days had passed without his having thought more of the beautiful Elena Leighton than he ought to have done. Dear Lord, a single moment’s thought, given to a young woman in his employ, beautiful or otherwise, was one moment too many!
And yet…
Her beauty had continued to haunt and beguile him. Her air of inborn elegance intrigued and bedevilled him, as well as her ability to puzzle and tempt him, to amuse him, to the extent that he actually laughed in her company—all despite his previous decision not to give in to the weakness of this unexpected and unwanted attraction!
They had parted badly four days ago. Very badly. He had been both cold and condescending towards her. Attitudes which should not have been directed at Elena at all, but towards his young daughter. Amanda’s temper tantrum that day, even the words she had used as to his ‘always being busy with estate affairs’, had been far too reminiscent of the accusations her mother would fling at him in her fits of pique or temper.
As a result, Adam had responded to Amanda’s wilfulness instinctively, but unfortunately his own anger had rained down on Elena’s innocent head rather than his absent daughter’s. Something that had continued to bother him in the four days that had passed since, along with his ever-weakening determination to withstand the deep attraction Elena held for him.
While his libido had been totally uninterested in any other woman the last few days, he only had to think of Elena to become aroused. He imagined her now, perhaps in her bedchamber getting ready for bed, with her long ebony hair loose about her sweetly swelling, rose-tinted breasts, the slenderness of her waist above the gentle swell of her hips—
‘I hope she appreciates her good fortune,’ Josie said, unwittingly breaking into his pleasant thoughts.
‘Sorry?’ Adam looked up to raise a questioning brow.
Josie gave another of her saucy grins. ‘Whoever the lady was you was just thinking about ’as brought a devilish gleam to your eyes and a hardness to your thighs!’
It was true, damn it!
Obviously he could not speak for the ‘devilish gleam’ in his eyes, but the other part, at least, was without a doubt true, that hot and throbbing arousal evident in the obvious bulge pressing against the front of his breeches. An arousal he would probably have to deal with himself when he retired to his bedchamber later this evening. As he’d had to do this past four nights. Unless…‘Best bring me another flagon of this wine, Josie,’ he advised ruefully as he refilled his glass; inebriation was another way of banishing these intruding thoughts of the delightful governess from his mind. And quelling the ragin
g desire of his shaft!
Josie gave a throaty chuckle. ‘Just say the word and I’ll shimmy ’neath the table and see ’e’s settled quick as a wink.’ She gave a slow and pointed lick of painted ruby red lips as she looked down at the bulge in his breeches.
‘Tempting…but let me try the wine first, hmm,’ Adam murmured evasively.
‘You knows where I am if’n ye should change ya mind.’ She shrugged her shoulders good-naturedly, jiggling her ample breasts temptingly, before leaving the parlour to collect a second flagon of wine.
Adam sat back with a sigh, knowing he had to find a suitable solution to this dilemma, of desiring a woman he had no right to desire, that he could not go on living in this physical and mental purgatory indefinitely; both he, and his estates, would suffer if he did not soon find some way of putting an end to what had become a hellish situation.
This past four days’ absence from Hawthorne Hall, of thinking constantly of Elena Leighton rather than the business he should be dealing with, had more than proved that point. And it provided him with only two solutions going forwards.
Elena must either leave his household forthwith, and so be removed from both his sight and temptation, or Adam must give in to his desire and offer her the role of his mistress and hope—or fear—that she would accept…
‘Do you think Papa will be cross about Samson…?’ Amanda looked at Elena anxiously as she stroked the soft black fur of the rapidly growing kitten currently purring in her lap.
In truth, Elena had absolutely no idea how Adam would react to his daughter having adopted the black kitten they had found after the picnic. He had left in his carriage for his business appointment later that very same day, without so much as saying goodbye to Amanda or leaving instructions for Elena.
Elena did know that Amanda had been sobbing inconsolably when she had sought out the little girl in her bedchamber that day, Amanda’s disappointment at her father’s imminent departure having been replaced with regret and remorse for having behaved so badly. A regret Amanda had unfortunately not had the opportunity to voice to her father before he’d left.
And ever since he’d been gone, Elena had tried but failed in her attempts to forgive the dratted man as she witnessed her young charge’s misery.
Amanda was aged only six, Adam Hawthorne was eight or possibly nine and twenty, and that disparity in years between father and daughter should have carried a similar disparity in their maturity. Unfortunately, in this case, that did not appear to have been the case.
Consequently Elena was very angry with Adam. More angry than she could remember being for a long, long time—if ever. As a result, when it transpired that the black kitten was a stray, unaccepted by any of the mothering she-cats in the stables, Elena had taken it upon herself to give her permission when Amanda had asked if she might have the kitten for her own. And if Lord Adam Hawthorne did not like that decision, then Elena would tell him exactly why she had made it!
‘Not at all,’ she assured Amanda briskly. ‘I have every reason to believe your father is a fair and reasonable gentleman—’
‘I am glad to hear it,’ that very same ‘gentleman’ drawled from the schoolroom doorway. ‘Just as I would dearly love to hear what I have done to be deserving of such an accolade…?’
‘Papa!’ Amanda’s previous anxiety disappeared like a summer mist as she ran across the schoolroom to launch herself into his arms.
‘Careful, pet,’ her father advised gently as the kitten looked in danger of being squashed between them. ‘What do we have here?’
He gently took the kitten and held it up for his inspection.
‘I have given Amanda permission to keep the kitten,’ Elena, sensing another crisis looming on the horizon, rushed in to claim decisively.
‘Indeed?’ Adam spared her only a cursory glance before turning his attention back to his daughter. ‘What do you call him?’
‘Samson,’ Amanda supplied almost shyly.
He smiled. ‘You called this little fellow Samson…?’
‘He will grow into his name, I am sure,’ Elena defended briskly, feeling slightly indignant on behalf of both Amanda and the tiny kitten. Admittedly the kitten was probably the runt of whatever litter he had come from, which was perhaps why he had been cast out, but he had huge paws that must surely one day support an equally as large body.
Her employer gave her another enigmatic glance before smiling down at Amanda as he gave the kitten back into her care. ‘He is a fine little fellow.’
‘And I may keep him, Papa?’ Amanda prompted.
‘How can I possibly decide anything else when Mrs Leighton herself has declared me to be such a fair and reasonable gentleman?’
The underlying sarcasm of that comment was completely lost on the now-beaming Amanda. Not so on Elena, who was only too well aware that he had to be mocking her.
‘It is so good to have you home again, Papa.’ Amanda’s pleasure shone in her sapphire-blue eyes.
‘It is very good to be home again, pet,’ he assured gruffly. ‘I have missed you.’
Elena eyed him sceptically; if he truly had missed the company of his young daughter then he should have returned sooner, rather than leaving Amanda in an agony of anxiety for the past five days over their strained parting.
‘As a special celebration of my return, perhaps you and Mrs Leighton would care to join me downstairs for dinner this evening?’
‘Really, Papa?’ Amanda’s eyes were wide with disbelief at the offered treat.
Elena, on the other hand, was still too irritated and annoyed by his long absence to be able to contemplate spending the evening in his company, or to enjoy how dashingly handsome he looked now in a deep-green superfine and buff-coloured pantaloons and black Hessians. ‘You will have to excuse me, I am afraid, Lord Hawthorne.’
‘Indeed?’
Elena ignored the coolness of his tone. ‘My evenings are my own to do with as I wish, I believe, and I have several other, personal and more important things in need of my attention this evening.’
Adam eyed her mockingly. ‘Such as?’
She gave him a reproving frown. ‘Such as my ironing and washing my hair, sir!’
So now he knew where he stood in Elena Leighton’s list of considerations, Adam acknowledged ruefully—obviously placed after her ironing and hair-washing!
Her manner had been more than a little frosty since he first entered the schoolroom, Adam acknowledged ruefully, and also defensive in regard to Amanda and the kitten. The latter might be attributed to the protective role she held in Amanda’s young life and the manner in which father and daughter had parted five days ago. Yet he sensed there was more to it than that, that whether she was aware of it or not, the indignation was also on her own behalf.
Because of the way in which he had spoken to her before his departure?
No doubt about it.
Amanda had obviously already forgiven him for going away so suddenly and remaining away longer than he had anticipated. Elena Leighton, apparently, was of a less forgiving nature altogether…
‘Both of those chores might wait another day, I am sure,’ Adam briskly dismissed her excuse. ‘Perhaps it would help if you were to look on this evening as a lesson to Amanda in manners and etiquette,’ he added persuasively as he saw Elena was about to refuse his dinner invitation a second—or was it a third?—time.
She arched dark brows. ‘In that case, might I expect to be allowed another afternoon off this month in lieu?’
His mouth thinned at the stubborn defiance she made little or no attempt to disguise. ‘And what would you do with that second free afternoon, when, by your own admission, you do not know the Cambridgeshire area well?’
She looked at him coolly. ‘I could use that free afternoon in which to know it better.’
Adam bit back his instinctive reply, knowing that it would suffice nothing, change nothing, except to make her more determined not to dine with him rather than the opposite. ‘Then perhaps I might
offer to be your guide?’ he came back with a good attempt at that reasonableness she had attributed to him earlier.
She looked more alarmed than pleased at the suggestion. ‘You are such a busy man, my lord, I could not possibly ask or expect that you waste any of it on showing me Cambridgeshire.’
‘Or you to Cambridgeshire?’
‘I very much doubt, my lord, that the county has feelings one way or the other about meeting the governess of your young daughter!’
Yes, whether she acknowledged it or not, she was indeed frostily indignant on her own behalf, as much as Amanda’s!
It was an indignation totally at odds with her role of governess, an indignation that had given a flush to her ivory cheeks that was slowly moving down over the plump slope of her breasts visible above the low neckline of the turquoise gown she wore. Another of Mrs Hepworth’s creations, no doubt, Adam mused, approving of this gown even more than he had the rose-coloured one, admiring the way in which it deepened the colour of Elena’s eyes as they met his gaze unblinkingly and gave a soft glow to the ivory texture of her skin.
Adam continued to hold that gaze with his as he spoke to his daughter. ‘Amanda, should you not consider taking Samson outside for a short time?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She gave a little giggle. ‘May I be excused, Mrs Leighton?’
Those blue-green eyes narrowed slightly on Adam. ‘Yes, of course you may, Amanda. With your father’s agreement, I believe our lessons are over for today.’
‘Papa?’
He smiled down at her approvingly. ‘I will see you at dinner, Amanda.’ Adam waited until his daughter had left the room before speaking again. ‘I believe, Elena, that I owe you an apology for my…brusqueness the last time we spoke together.’
She raised haughty brows. ‘Is it now my turn to dismiss the repetitiveness of your own apologies, my lord?’
‘Adam.’
She blinked. ‘I beg your pardon…?’
‘I believe I once asked that you call me Adam,’ he reminded her.
Her cheeks warmed with colour as she obviously recalled the occasion on which he had made that request and the exact circumstances under which he had made it. ‘And I believe that I declined that invitation.’
Not Just a Governess Page 8