Page 13 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

It was incredible to think this was Nicholas’ home. In a way, she could understand now why he’d never come back. He’d always dreamed of being wealthy, and now he was. Would she have fit into his life, she wondered? No. She knew this. She was a merchant’s daughter through and through, not a duchess. While Nicholas hadn’t been raised as a rich man, he had always known he was the heir to a great fortune. He had planned for it, prepared himself. Often, she’d find him studying the papers to learn the names of his fellow lords and understand how the House of Lords operated.

Lydia recalled an afternoon they’d spent wanting to the grand building where the powerful decided the country’s fate. They’d stood on Westminster bridge while Nicholas spoke of the future when he took his seat there.

No, even then, Lydia had known she never would have fitted in and she understood now that once he saw this splendor, he’d understood it too.

Lydia shook her head; it was of no use. These thoughts would do nothing but torment her. She needed to get up and find her way to the kitchen. Surely in a house such as this, someone would be available to make her a cup of tea, or she’d simply make it herself.

She rose, the cold nipped at her toes through her stockings as she located the slippers she’d been given. Lydia grabbed the shawl from the back of her chair and wrapped it around her shoulders before stepping into the hall. The cold was even more biting there, and she pulled the shawl closer around herself. The wide, long hall lay dark and gloomy before her. A few beeswax candles flickered but did little to illuminate the path before her.

She turned, collected the silver candle holder from her table, and stepped out. The flame flickered gently but held its own. It smelled pleasant, unlike the tallow candles they used at her home in London. Another example of how different her life was from Nicholas’.

She wandered down the hall, past the many portraits showing the long line of Nicholas’ family. She shuddered when she realized a strange commonality between them. They all had the same hazel eyes. It was as if Nicholas were watching her walk through his home. Suddenly, her thoughts wandered to the young girl she’d seen in the garden that afternoon. She hadn’t seen her since. Where was her chamber? Who did she take dinner with? It occurred to her that Nicholas hadn’t mentioned his daughter even once during their time together. Not that she’d given him much chance to say anything. She puckered her lips, wondering why he’d asked her to come, of all people. Surely other governesses were living closer that would jump at the chance of working for a duke.

Lost in thought, she made a left and found herself in an entirely dark hallway. She turned back, glancing left and right when she spotted a flicker in the darkness. Unlike the hallway outside her chamber, there were no windows in this hall, and only the candles lit her path.

Curious, she pressed on and stepped through a large arched doorway. She scanned the room when her heart warmed at the sight before her.

There, stacked on shelves almost to the ceiling, were hundreds of books. A fire danced in the fireplace as if the room had been prepared for a visitor. However, nobody was there. The three leather chairs that were placed around the fireplace were empty. Lydia took another step and closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of leather-backed books and cedar wood.

Books had always been her passion. Ever since childhood, she’d adored nothing more than sitting by a warm fireplace with a cup of tea and a book. Education had been important to her parents, and both she and Caroline were grateful to them for it. Unfortunately, her former employer hadn’t had many books and paid little attention to matters such as reading. Seeing all these tomes here ignited hope in Lydia once more. She stepped to the first shelf and found a row of books about the history of England. On the next shelf was one on European history. Eagerly she studied the various shelves, her heart beating faster and faster at the precious discoveries on the shelves before her.

Novels, manuscripts, poetry, and science books were stacked high. Lydia thought of young Lady Charlotte, and a possibility occurred to her. Had Nicholas sent for her because he remembered how her father had instructed Caroline and Lydia? Did he want the same for his daughter? It would explain his decision to bring her here under such odd circumstances.

Lydia pulled out a bound selection of papers and gasped. They were the collected observations of nebulae by William Herschel. Lydia flicked the pages with a bated breath. She’d always been captivated with the sky and stars and found William Herschel’s works fascinating. He’d discovered a planet nearly a decade ago, and since then, Lydia had followed astronomy religiously.

It was one of the subjects she’d sought to teach her former pupil. Indeed, it had been during a night lesson when they’d attempted to identify the various constellations that she’d been ambushed by her charge’s father. He’d not taken kindly to the discovery, which, in turn, had led to the conversation that resulted in her loss of employment.

She shuddered and carried her discovery to a chaise beneath the window just past the fireplace. A sconce on the wall illuminated the space just enough to allow her to see the words on the pages before her.

As Lydia escaped into the descriptions of the wonders that lived in the sky, her thoughts wandered. She imagined herself floating among the stars, her long hair flying behind her as she touched the endless expanse of the universe. She knew this wasn’t how it would work, but she danced among the stars in her dreams and experienced a fulfillment she’d never before known.

Eventually, she placed her reading aside and closed her eyes to allow her imagination to brighten. She smiled at the vivid images her mind conjured up, and as she allowed her thoughts to wander, the tension that had gripped her body all day slowly left. She sank into the soft cushion and drew a blanket over her as the crackling fire soothed her further. Eventually, without planning, she slipped away from this grand manor house and the shocking reunion with the man she’d once loved, and escaped into a world of dreams.

* * *

She looked like an angel when she slept; he thought as he pulled the blanket around his daughter’s narrow shoulders. Charlotte’s resemblance to her mother was undeniable in the gentle moonlight. She had the same slightly upturned nose and protruding chin, the same pale skin. He swallowed hard and stepped back.

“I failed you both,” he murmured into the darkness.

He shook his head, stepped into the dark hall, and closed the door. Nicholas wetted his lips, tasting the remains of the whiskey in the corners of his mouth, and dropped his shoulders. Guilt over having taken a drink earlier had followed him all evening, and the knowledge that he’d let Charlotte down again, not to mention Lydia.

He’d hoped she would be the answer to his prayers, the solution to his troubled relationship with Charlotte and his daughter’s last hope of avoiding a life filled with bitterness. Yet, none of it would come to pass. Instead, Lydia would leave, and he’d have no choice but to send Charlotte to the seminary and hope for the best.

Nicholas stopped outside the library, wondering if reading might calm his racing thoughts, when he spotted a shape on the chaise in the far corner. A chill gripped him as he stared at the figure. He felt as though his consciousness was traveling through time and space to a time years ago when he’d come upon his late wife like this, alone in the library with nothing but books to fill the void left by an uncaring husband.

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the memory from his mind. Of course, it wasn’t Suzette on the chaise.

“Lydia?” Nicholas whispered, more to himself than anything else. He stepped to the chaise by the fading fire. He stopped a few steps away from her as his lips curled up. She looked peaceful, almost angelic. Her rich red hair framed her pale face, and her lush lips were upturned in a slight smile as she slept.

At rest, she looked like the young girl he’d loved so much all those years ago. Gone was the rage, the raw anger that had twisted her handsome features earlier.

A desire to sit beside her gripped him, and he raised his right hand to caress her soft cheeks. He inhaled, wondering what it might be like to bury his face in her curls again as he had done so long ago. He felt the tickles of her hair against his cheek and smelled the fresh scents again as he had, then thought they were only memories now.

No, he told himself. She’d had a long day and needed her rest. He took a step back, determined to let her sleep. He would do what he’d planned to – fetch a book and return to his chamber for the night.

Nicholas took a deep breath and carefully crossed the library, ensuring not to step on the floorboards he knew would creak beneath his feet. He squatted beside the ancient knight’s armor his father had procured for his collection. Nicholas always hated the imposing, ugly thing but hadn’t had the heart to move it since it had belonged to his father.

He withdrew a collection of poetry and flicked through it. The tone of this collection was rather dark and dreary, speaking of things lost to time and regrets, and soon he was drawn entirely into it.