Page 48 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

“Leave you? No. I’m right here.” Did she think she might run off to marry Elliot, she wondered? Had she given her cause to?

“But you will. Eventually, you will. You’ll get married to find another little girl to look after.”

Lydia took a breath; the coldness in the air ached her lungs for a second before her body warmed it. She took Charlotte’s hand. She was closed off like her father, and statements like these weren’t usual for her.

“Well, I will be with you for a while longer. I’m not going anywhere. Although, eventually, you will be grown enough to join society. Then you won’t need a governess. Once you’re old enough for a coming-out ball and to look for a husband. That’s the age most young ladies become independent of their governesses and no longer need them.” She was careful not to give a timeframe because she sensed Charlotte was in a fragile state regarding this topic. Never before had a governess lasted as long as Lydia. She’d been here nearly seven months; the longest anyone managed before was three. To a small child, this had to feel like an eternity.

“I do not want to have a coming out ball or join society,” Charlotte declared, pushing her bottom lip forward. “I’d rather you stay with me.”

Lydia smiled and ran her hand over the girl’s cheek, feeling the coldness on her round face through her gloves.

“You’ll feel different when the time comes,” she assured her.

“I won’t,” Charlotte protested and shook her head. Her blonde hair grazed against her shoulders from underneath the warm cap. “If you go, I will go with you.”

It was not a question but rather a resolute declaration. It was clear she’d spent some time thinking about this topic. Lydia bit her lip, not sure how to respond. Alas, before she could think of anything, Charlotte detailed her plan.

“I will learn to cook and clean, and I can be a housemaid while you are a governess. Or I can be a governess with you. A great many households have enough children to need two. Lady Havertown has twelve children. Twelve! Surely a lady like that would be glad for two governesses,” she explained eagerly.

Lydia dropped her hand from her face and squeezed her hand. “I do not think your father would like it if you became a governess. He wishes for you to wed and have children of your own. Perhaps I can be your children’s governess one day,” she offered as a compromise. Charlotte would have none of this. She shook her head rapidly.

“No. I do not want to marry. I do not want to grow up. I do not want time to move on. It ought to stay still. I wish…” The old familiar anger crept into her voice, alarming Lydia. “I wish it was just me and you and my father. I wish he would… I… I do not want him to… I do not want him to marry Lady Evelyn. I do not care for her. She is unkind. She never says anything nice to me at all.”

And there it was. The source of all this anxiety. Charlotte had not spent much time with Lady Evelyn. She’d met her and dined with her and her father on one occasion, but she’d been unhappy and quiet. Following the dinner, Nicholas had decided it best for her not to spend too much time with Lady Evelyn until after… well, until his plans came to fruition.

Naturally, the child was sharp-minded enough to understand what was happening around her, and she also heard the servants talk. There was no avoiding it. She knew the plans even if nobody spelled them out to her.

Lydia gathered all her strength to avoid saying a negative word about the lady.

“I am certain you will grow to like her if that were to be the case. You grew to like me.”

Charlotte frowned. “You are marvelous, Miss Haddington.”

It was a simple statement, yet it warmed her heart so much that Lydia felt she could have gladly survived off its heat all through winter.

“And so are you. Lady Charlotte, you will not need me forever. You’re a strong young lady who’ll do wonderful things with your life. And I’ll be watching for a distance, always proud of you.”

Charlotte’s eyes glistened in the gentle moonlight, and a tear ran down her face.

“I do not want you at a distance. You’re to be with me. Please, Miss Haddington. Everyone always leaves me, not you too. Please.” Her lips quivered, and another tear joined the first until her little round face was awash with them. Lydia’s heart broke for her, and she drew her near, feeling her small body quake. She let out a deep sigh. What should have been a wonderful evening had been ruined by things beyond her control.

And all Lydia could do now was hold on to Charlotte and rock her until her tears subsided. Knowing she could do nothing to help her was the worst feeling in the world, and she wished there was anything she could do to make her feel more secure. Alas, she knew very well there was nothing. Fate had made its plans for them, and all they could do was follow its predestined path. No matter where it led.

* * *

Nicholas discarded his hat, outer coat, and decorative cane, handing it all over to the butler before heading toward the parlor. He paused as he passed the window and frowned. In the distance, a light flickered. For a second, his heart almost stopped, thinking someone had set a fire on his property. He rushed to the window and pulled it open.

Nicholas leaned out and craned his neck when he saw that whatever the fire was, it was self-contained. Clearly, it was placed there on purpose. He scratched his head. Had the servants planned a gathering while he was out?

No, he didn’t believe so. Usually, whenever the servants hosted a celebration for a birthday or a picnic outside, they let him know and invited him to join – knowing very well he would never as he didn’t wish to intrude on their private time. Thus, the origin of this fire remained a mystery.

“Mrs. Funny?” He called as he stepped into the hall, but there was no answer. It was supper time, and surely she was below stairs with the other servants, enjoying her meal. No matter. He decided to investigate the situation himself. Nicholas made his way out the back door, foregoing his coat, for he didn’t plan to stay outside too long.

He walked across the gravel, feeling the pebbles move under his feet, and stepped onto the lawn. The cold hair made the grass crisp, and it crunched as he walked toward the fire. The air, cold and brisk, grew warmer the closer he got to the bright, dancing orange flames.

Now that he was closer, he saw it was a campfire, laid with purpose, and gathered around it were two figures. He stopped a few steps away, and his lips curled into a smile when he recognized them.

Sitting with their backs to him were Lydia and Charlotte. Lydia sat with her upper body tilting back, her hands propped on the blanket behind her to support her. Charlotte, meanwhile, was on her back, her head in Lydia’s lap. Suddenly, he understood what they were doing – stargazing.