Page 35 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

“Excuse me,” a soft, cheerful voice said, and she looked up. Standing before her was a tall, slender gentleman with brilliant green eyes and a mop of shaggy blond hair. “I did not mean to cut in front of you.”

“You did not,” she replied with a smile. She stepped back to allow him to pass, but he did not move. Instead, he bowed deeply and extended his hand.

“Elliot Gilbert, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Gilbert?” she asked, as the name sounded familiar. He winked at her.

“My father, the Baron of Farnon, owns the neighboring estate. You may see some of our marmalades served this evening on the dessert table. We trade with His Grace. Our marmalade and curds for his butter and milk.”

She beamed at him and placed one hand on her stomach. “I adore your lemon curd. I have it for breakfast each morning.”

A shadow brushed over his face. “You live here? Are you a relation to His Grace?”

Lydia bit her lip and shook her head. While they had once been as close as two people could be, they were nothing to each other now but employer and employee.

“I am governess to Lady Charlotte, His Grace's daughter. Miss Lydia Haddington,” she introduced herself and curtsied.

Elliot Gilbert's eyebrows shot up so high they almost vanished under the thick hair. “A governess? Faith, I had no idea. I would have taken you for a lady of noble birth.”

He smiled at her with a genuine sparkle in his eyes. Lydia could not help but feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

“There is nothing noble about me, I am afraid,” she blinked and raised her eyes, feeling the warmth and kindness that radiated off him. She wasn't sure why but being near this stranger felt like standing near a cozy fire on a cold winter's night. He enveloped her with his radiance.

“I disagree. I know many young ladies, and you eclipse them all.”

She giggled at the verbose complement but looked past him at the dancers, ready to take their turn.

“I was not fishing for Spanish coin, sir.”

“I did not think you were, and I apologize if my compliment made you uncomfortable. I am not as elegant with my words as I ought to be. Nevertheless, what I said is true. You are a noble woman and one I'd quite enjoy dancing with. If you'll have me,” he said and tipped his head as he awaited her answer.

Dance? Her mind raced. She was not a dancer.

“I am unaccustomed to dancing. I'm afraid you might end up quite flat-footed.”

He chuckled but shook his head. “I am rather a skillful dancer, and I assure you, if you put your trust in me, you shall not cause injury to either my feet or your pride.”

She ran her tongue over her lips and glanced at the dancefloor. The Master of Ceremonies stepped to the middle and banged his staff.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the minuet,” he announced in a booming voice that would have roused even the dead from their rest. The dancers moved forth, and at the very top of the line, she spotted none other than Nicholas - and the beautiful lady on his arm. She quaffed as she watched them touch in preparation for the dance.

Envy and sadness nipped at her heart in equal measure, and she shook her head. No. She would not give in to her worst impulses. She would not open her heart.

There was a gentleman perfectly willing to dance with her, no matter how insignificant she made herself sound. That is who she should dance with. Not with a man who had turned away from her and came calling only after he needed her.

She chased away the last of her doubts, looked up at Elliot Gilbert and took his strong, warm hand in hers before stepping on the dancefloor as though she were a lady who truly belonged at last.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Nicholas' hair swayed as he spun Lady Evelyn in his arms. She beamed at him the way only a young lady confident of her position in a gentleman's life could. Usually, he would have been pleased to see her focus solely on him. It meant she wanted to make a future with him as much as he did, or used to.

No. He still wanted to court her, marry her, he told himself. It was the right thing. She was the right woman for him.

Due to her proximity to him, he felt himself rising in the estimation of his assembled guests. Lady Evelyn could give him the respect he needed from those around him. He, too, could provide her with what he knew she desired: the title of duchess.

It was a business transaction, just like his first union. But, as he looked at her bright smile, he couldn't help but wonder, did she expect more? He hoped not, because he knew he had nothing else to give.

Nicholas' gaze wandered around the dancefloor, examining the dancers around him, when something, or rather someone, caught his eye.