Page 51 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

She allowed her gaze to linger on his body, drink in his strength and form. Then, suddenly, he turned, their eyes meeting, and she felt heat spreading from her face to every part of her, yet she didn’t look away.

He knew she’d been staring at him, so there was no use in acting coy. She’d noticed him staring at her as well more than once. Not that she minded. She liked it, though she knew it would lead nowhere. She knew she ought not to stare at him nor let him do likewise, for it did nothing but fuel her nighttime dreams that always left her melancholy in the mornings.

A sudden crackle drew her attention, and she saw Nicholas drop his arm and crane his neck, his expression changing to alarm. Lydia narrowed her eyes, wondering what the sound had been when the ice emitted a horrid groan followed by a snap like thunderclaps ringing together.

“Charlotte! Get off the ice now!” She shouted, wobbling forward toward the edge. To her horror, Charlotte stopped instead and placed a hand behind her ear. “What?” she called, but before Lydia had a chance to answer, a loud snap rang into the silence as the ice creaked apart, creating a sound so terrifying Lydia jolted back.

“Help!” Charlotte shouted and bent forward as though to gain momentum, but it was too late. The ice gave way before Lydia’s terrified eyes, creating a hole in the middle of the lake and then, the child was gone.

* * *

“Charlotte!” Nicholas hollered as he threw the window open. He saw her red coat bopping beneath the clear ice, but she did not resurface. Terror gripped him, and his throat grew thick as his vision saw nothing but his child encased under the ice.

He spun and dashed down the hall, past the portrait of Louisa. He glanced at her as he ran, vowing to his late wife to save their only child. He took the stairs four at a time and jumped down the rest; the vibration as he landed shook his bones.

“Mrs. Funny, send for the physician. Do it now!” he bellowed as he sprinted out of the side door and into the garden. The housekeeper’s hurried steps accompanied his dash until he surged out of the house and into the cold. He’d thrown on a shirt on the way, but it hung open, and the icy cold hit him as though he’d run directly into a wall. He pushed aside the biting cold and ran toward Lydia, who struggled to remove her skates.

Blood dripped off her hands, where the skates cut through her gloves. She tossed the second skate away and, a second later, was on the ice, slithering to where Charlotte had gone under.

Nicholas was behind her a second later; the ice gripping his socks and trapping him in place momentarily. He yanked, freeing himself as his socks ripped away from the ice.

“Charlotte, hold tight!” Lydia shouted up ahead. She’d thrown herself on her stomach and grabbed at Charlotte, whose head had bopped to the surface. Nicholas leaped forward, but his legs slid forward, and he handed with an almighty boom on the ice. Pain seared through the back of his head, but he scrambled back up when the threatening roar of ice coming apart came again beneath him.

“Nicholas, it can’t carry the weight. Go back,” Lydia shouted; panic laced her voice, and her eyes widened. Behind her, Charlotte slipped under the water repeatedly, desperately clinging to life. His eyes darted across the lake when he saw it. A branch.

“Lydia! The branches!” he shouted, and she followed his gaze. Desperately, she gripped it; blood from her hand staining the stem.

“I’ll get her. Go back,” she repeated as the ice screamed out beneath him. He rushed toward shore, where the ice was thicker, hating himself for being unable to help more.

“Your Grace,” Mrs. Funny shouted as she ran out, her face white as mountain peaks. Behind her, servants had assembled, each desperately looking for ways to help.

“The ice can’t hold us,” he called. Lydia grabbed the branch firmly and pushed it toward Charlotte, who grabbed onto it. Nicholas watched, his eyes wide as Charlotte grabbed onto it.

“You can do it, Charlotte! Hold tight,” he shouted encouragingly. “I’m right here. Hold on! You’re strong! You can do anything you set your mind to!”

He wasn’t sure where the words came from, but they sputtered out of his mouth rapidly and they were working. Charlotte held on while Lydia pulled on the branch, and then Charlotte climbed out of the water.

She lay flat, her red coat sprawled out on the clear ice like a wounded bird, but then, she crawled forward. Lydia’s mouth moved as she spurned her on though he couldn’t hear her voice.

As Charlotte slowly made her way toward him, his heart thundered with relief at his daughter’s rescue and Lydia’s bravery. She’d known the ice could not carry them both, and he was closer. She’d done what she had to save Charlotte.

She was a hero. His heart swelled as he longed to lift her, wrap his arms around her and tell her he loved her for he did. Now more than ever.

“Papa?” Charlotte’s voice drifted over the eyes, and he saw she was halfway to him.

“Blankets, quickly,” he called and rushed back onto the lake though he stayed where the ice was thick, reaching his hands out to Charlotte. He held his breath, worried she might fall in once more, as he stretched his hand out. But then, in a moment more glorious than any he’d ever felt, Charlotte’s little shivering hand grabbed onto his strong fingers, and he yanked her the last few inches toward him. He gathered her in his arms when she broke into a wail. Hot tears streamed against his freezing skin as he held her and rocked as he had on those few tranquil nights after her birth.

“My Charlotte, you’re saved.”

“Miss Haddington saved me,” she muttered as her body shivered, and Mrs. Funny came running with blankets.

Nicholas looked up over the ice, and his eyes settled on Lydia, who’d stood up and slowly walked to them, one foot carefully placed in front of the other. The branch, Charlotte’s lifeline, lay discarded next to the hole, a silent reminder of the calamity they’d so narrowly avoided.

He locked eyes with Lydia, who carried a small, relieved smile on her face. At that moment, Nicholas understood what he had to do. Fate had given him another chance. He rose with Charlotte in his arms as servants wrapped blankets over her.

Lydia precariously made her way to them, and his heart beat faster at the prospect of being near her when suddenly, a loud crack filled the air, drowning out the excitable chatter around him. A flock of blackcaps flew from the snowy branch, roused by the noise.

Water splattered high in the air as the ice gave way once more. Lydia didn’t even have time to scream before the water sucked her under.