Page 50 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

Charlotte grimaced as she laced up her skates. “No. She does not. If she saw me skating, she’d forbid it at once, for she has no sense of adventure; she sees no thrill in anything I like to do. All she does is tell me to behave like a lady, to be quiet, speak when I am spoken to. I… I hate…”

“Charlotte,” Lydia warned while struggling to put her skates on. She’d taught Charlotte not to use the word hate unless she really meant it, for it was otherwise too dangerous a weapon to wield.

“I dislike her greatly. She is a disagreeable lady,” Charlotte replied. Lydia sighed, for she knew it to be true. Lady Evelyn and Charlotte had been introduced some weeks ago. They dined together often, and once, Lady Evelyn had attended a lesson – only to criticize Lydia’s teaching methods and Charlotte’s progress. It had been disastrous for all involved, though Lady Evelyn was oblivious to how much she was disliked. Since then, she’d made it her duty to bring Charlotte embroidery and water coloring projects to work on, as well as poetry books she wanted her to learn and then recite.

Lydia wondered if she would care even if she knew. She was the sort of woman who cared only for her journey up society’s ladder and if Lydia was correct, the title of the duchess was indeed her goal, just as Nicholas once told her.

“Miss Haddington, let us go. Come. I shall hold your hand,” Charlotte wailed impatiently. She stood perfectly balanced on the skates and held out her hand. Lydia took it though she swayed precariously back and forth even on the thick snow.

At the lake’s edge, Charlotte let go of her hand and slid onto the ice. Her little red coat was a flurry as she twirled on the ice like someone born for this. Her blonde hair flew around her head, and she laughed with such delight Lydia’s heart warmed.

Encouraged by Charlotte’s joy, she stepped onto the ice, wishing she could dance as easily as her young charge. Alas…

“Oh!” she hollered as her feet went out from under her the second she stepped on the ice. Her right leg flew into the air, joined by its companion, and then, her bottom connected hard with the ice below. Pain shot up her tailbone, and she lay there, the cold ice beneath her and the greyish-blue sky above until Charlotte’s worried face appeared.

“Miss Haddington, you really are ghastly at this.” She held out her hands, and Lydia clambered to her feet, holding on the Charlotte as she regained her composure.

“I told you so,” she said, but Charlotte only sighed.

“I thought you were exaggerating, as you did when you said you couldn’t dance and then danced the night away with that bore, Elliot Gilbert.”

“Do not be unkind to him; he was kind enough to let us see his telescope,” she scolded, but Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“Because he wanted to make you his ball and chain. Since you made it clear you’re not interested, we’ve seen nothing of him.”

Lydia wanted to explain that they hadn’t seen the young man because he had gone to Scotland to study the stars at university, but Charlotte wasn’t entirely wrong. He had made it known how much he cared for her, and she knew he’d have asked her to marry him. Alas, her heart hadn’t been free, and her ego was bruised by Lady Evelyn’s verbal assault. In the end, they’d parted ways, much to her sister’s chagrin as she’d already planned out a wedding in her letters.

She’d kept up a lively correspondence with her sister, but they avoided the subject of Nicholas whenever possible. Lydia had made it clear she did not wish to talk about him, not about the way he’d tricked her into working for him. Caroline had made her opinion clear in her first letter in reply to the news, but since then, they’d avoided talking about him. At times, Lydia might mention one thing or another, but since that day a few weeks ago, when they’d crossed every possible line – she’d never made any mention of him to Caroline, not even in passing.

“Perhaps you had better stay on edge,” Charlotte decided, reminding her of the task at hand. “The little children do that. That way, they’re closer to the proper ground when they fall and can crawl up.”

Lydia did not appreciate the idea of her pupil watching her crawl across the ice, but she could already see that would be the outcome.

“Perhaps it would be better if I watched you for a while to see how it’s done.”

Charlotte puckered her lips but then shrugged dramatically. “Very well. I shall explain it to you as I do it, and you can copy me later. I wish my father were here; he’d show you. Even though Lady Evelyn didn’t want to skate, he went anyhow and loved it; he said so at breakfast. It’s how I had the idea and…”

She chattered while Lydia, aided by her student, arrived at the edge again and plopped onto the snow-covered grass. Her bottom hurt, and she was certain that come morning, her behind would be all shades of blue. Not that anyone but her might see it.

“Very well,” Charlotte said with a grin. “I’ll teach you by showing you, and then you’ll return on the ice, yes?”

“I promise,” she said, which satisfied Charlotte, who shimmied on the ice like a professional dancer. “Wonderful! First, I’ll skate along the lake for a bit. Watch me; see how fast I can go!” Her voice faded because she rapidly approached the very center of the lake. Lydia’s heart thudded with worry that she might fall and hurt herself. If she did, who’d get her? She’d be unable to get to the lake’s center if Charlotte fell. She’d have to stumble across the snow with ease ridiculous skates on and summon Nicholas.

And then what? These days, the thought of being near him was both heartbreaking and exhilarating, for try as she might, she couldn't stop the feelings that had been sparked that morning at the lake. Months had passed, and she still awoke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, dreaming of his touch, his kiss and longing for more. She'd lie awake fantasizing about what it would be like to feel his weight on her, his kiss, his warmth.

When they were together, it was even worse. She smelled his intoxicating scent whenever they were close, and it reminded her of that fateful afternoon. She watched his every move from the corner of her eye as they ate together with Charlotte, saw his fingers move as he cut his food, and watched his eyes dart from her to Charlotte and back.

She'd go to the library for a book and linger in front of his study, wondering what he was up to. She'd go so far as to put her hand on the handle, but she'd never push it down. What would she do if she entered? What would his reaction be? She knew what she hoped.

She'd imagined herself storming into his study, declaring her love for him and pleading with him not to marry another woman who wasn't right for him. She wanted to tell him she'd loved him all these years and that she knew he loved her back. In her mind, he'd confess his love for her, and sweep her into his arms. He'd slam the door shut and drag her to the rug in front of the fireplace, where they'd lose themselves in each other's arms.

“Miss Haddington! Look!” Charlotte’s voice came from far away, and she looked up. She was skating between the wych elms. “I can go so fast!” Charlotte called with such joy in her voice that Lydia couldn’t help but smile despite her dark thoughts. Charlotte glid over the ice in so graceful a fashion as though she was born for it. Who’d taught her, she wondered? Nicholas had been so distant all her life he hardly could be the one... Had Charlotte found another governess to teach her at some point?

She quietly watched her dance as if in a world of her own and sighed. She wanted to be here with Nicholas, to watch Charlotte together as her parents had watched her and Caroline play in the park.

Alas, it would never be. Still, she could not keep her heart from longing for his presence, his touch – for a life she knew he would soon share with another. Lydia glanced up at the window and saw a figure approaching the glass. Her stomach tightened when she realized it was Nicholas, standing at a window in the hall, looking down at his child.

To her surprise, he was bare-chested, his muscles perfectly defined. He leaned against the glass with one arm up, head resting against it. The strong curve of his biceps sent a shiver down her. She longed to feel his arms as she had that day at the lake, have his breath tickle the small hairs on her neck. She wanted to hide in his embrace, escape from a world that would never let them be together.