Page 55 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

“I think not, Your Grace,” she replied, letting it slip off her shoulders. He hardly noticed it gathered on the floor around her naked feet. His eyes roved over her curvy body, drinking in her form. Her breasts were as perky as he remembered, and her nipples had hardened from the chill and stood at attention as if begging to be sucked. He stepped forward, his hands raised when she took another step.

“Touch me, my love,” she whispered, and he received her eagerly.

He kneaded her breasts and kissed her neck while she dipped her head back to allow him better access.

Nicholas felt her hands wander up and down along the middle of his shirt, then buttons popped open one after the other until her smooth fingers ran over his skin and made their way farther and farther down.

“Lydia,” he moaned into her ear while his hands ran down her bare back until he reached where her bottom rounded out. He grabbed her there, lifting her slightly, so she was pressed against him.

He felt the heat emitting from her private place, and his manhood pressed against her, throbbing with desire.

“Kiss me,” he demanded, and she followed his command readily, lifting her head with her lips parted so he could press his lips on hers with force. She kissed him likewise, her tongue slipping into his mouth. He didn’t know he could control himself for much longer. His heart pounded, and he spun her around against the bed. Then, he lifted her and parted her legs, pushing himself between her when a loud bang ripped into the silence.

He came to, realizing he’d been asleep. Nicholas leaped forward and almost fell out of his chair as he came to his feet. His manhood rubbed stiffly against his pantaloons, and he desperately willed it to go away as his gaze flew around the room for something to cover up with. He spotted his jacket behind him, grabbed it off the back of the chair, and sat, draping it over his lap.

“Enter,” he called with a voice full of suppressed mortification. He’d expected Mrs. Funny or Charlotte, but it was Lydia. He smiled, but then images of his dream flashed before him as she walked toward him just as she had in his dream, except this time, she was fully dressed.

Lydia was in one of her long-sleeved white muslin dresses that always swayed around her body as if to caress it. Her red hair was piled on her head, with a few strands hanging on her face. He was pleased to see her color had returned, but how she looked at him made him pause.

A week had passed since her accident, and she’d spent several days in bed, fighting off the fever and infection. He’d visited her daily but was always accompanied by Charlotte as per Lydia’s wish. He’d hoped to see her alone and even gone to her one evening but she’d been asleep. Or pretended to be. He’d been desperate to speak to, hold, and kiss her again, but he knew he could not when he saw her that night.

She’d made it clear with her renewed distance that the kiss, the closeness as she’d woken from her accident, were merely a reaction to a traumatic event. She did not want more. She could not give more. Not now.

And he knew why.

Evelyn. Lydia knew he and Evelyn were meant to be married. Evelyn hadn’t hidden their intentions. Indeed, the lady had already moved into the house and chosen Louisa’s former chambers. Her maids had come and gone for the past week, measuring and removing items they did not deem suitable for Lady Evelyn, many of them belonging to Louisa. They’d removed the latter’s armoire and clothing, which he’d saved for Charlotte, and placed them into a storage building without asking him.

He’d been incensed, but Lady Evelyn had all but made it clear that once they were married, she would have a say on how to run the house. After all, as she liked to say, there were other unattached dukes she could set her cap on. Other gentleman needed her father’s wealth, but she’d chosen him, despite his reputation and former drinking problems.

He shuddered at the memory of the conversation, realizing that his intuition that he wasn't more to her than a puppy she could train had been correct.

Similarly, he knew Mrs. Funny would have told Lydia what was going on, and he'd personally overheard Charlotte bitterly complaining to Lydia about Lady Evelyn. Lydia, on the other hand, had encouraged Charlotte to be gentle with her future stepmother. Did she realize one of Evelyn's demands was that she be replaced as governess as soon as possible? He thought it likely. Many governesses would have bolted at such a prospect, but not her. She was completely devoted to Charlotte. That devotion helped him come to a decision: he'd end things with Lady Evelyn. She was not the right woman for him. Her mere presence suffocated him, and she'd do the same to Charlotte.

All he'd needed was a good time to tell her, which he'd decided would be this weekend. They were going to one of her friend's country homes. He planned to find a quiet moment away from Charlotte and Lydia to inform Lady Evelyn that he did not want to marry her. He knew it would upset her, which was why he wanted to do it away from everyone else.

He'd gathered she was the type to fly off the handle, possibly releasing her thinly veiled envy of Lydia. And Lydia, he’d decided, must be protected at all costs.

“Your Grace?” she called, and he looked up, torn from his thoughts by the sound of his title on her lips. The one thing that had changed over the past few days was that she’d called him Nicholas on a few occasions, but that she’d reverted to his title combined with her serious expression frightened him.

“Lydia, what is it? Are you unwell? Do you wish to sit?”

“No, what I’ve come to say will not take long.” She swallowed hard and bit her lips before looking at him directly. Her tongue poked out between her lips. He’d have thought it adorable if not for the fact that he knew she did this when she was extremely nervous and partaking in a task she dreaded. His stomach twisted and contracted so hard he thought he might have to throw up as the worst thought came to him.

“Lydia, what is it? You’re...”

“I’m leaving,” she talked over him, confirming his suspicion.

“Why? I... are you unhappy? I know that Lady Evelyn has been ...” She raised her hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“It is nothing to do with you or her or anything else. It is simply a matter of finances. My sister has written. The teashop has incurred expenses that must be met, along with my father’s ongoing treatment.”

“Is he worse?” he asked, not wishing for it, but at least it would be something he could work on fixing.

“It is not about my father. The costs for the teashop are up, and, in addition, Caroline needs me closer to home. My prior posting allowed me to be home frequently, whereas the distance…”

“You can take him away,” Nicholas offered quickly, but she shook her head.

“You need not make concessions, for I have already found another position. They are paying me a higher wage, and they are nearer to my family. I cannot decline it,” she said without meeting his eyes though her fingertips tapped together in a way that made him think she was not quite telling the truth.