Breaking the Governess’s Rules (19 page)

She nodded and gathered her skirts in her hand, moving them slightly so they did not touch his leg. ‘This is the first I have heard of you being ill from carriages.’

‘Why do you think I used to drive?’

‘I thought you enjoyed the challenge.’ She inched slightly towards the carriage door.

He raised an eyebrow and her cheeks coloured slightly. Her tongue wet her lips, turning them cherry
red. His instinct was correct. She was fighting the same temptation that he was. All she needed was a push in the right direction and the walls that hid her inner self would come tumbling down.

‘And what did you think of your meeting with Annie?’ he asked, allowing his leg to brush hers. ‘Are you satisfied that her father has not beaten her or fed her on gruel? You spent a long time speaking with her. Sims had gone through his entire collection of horse brasses before you finished and that has not happened before.’

‘It was an exercise in futility,’ Louisa said, pulling her bonnet so that it sat more squarely on her head, shading her expression. ‘Annie Sims keeps her secrets close. Despite listening to my tale about Miss Mattie, she refuses to say much about her experience. She claims not to remember much about the night she left.’

‘Why do you think she is hiding something?’

Louisa gave him a quick glance. ‘She kept holding up the handkerchief to her eyes, giving great noisy sobs without her nose going red or a single tear shimmering in her eyes. Later when I contrived to touch the handkerchief, it was dry.’

‘She says very little, but what she does say is intended to tug at the heartstrings. She was blinded by love, but the scales have fallen from her eyes. She hates him now, but she can remember nothing about the night she left.’ Jonathon leant back against the seat and stretched his arms along the back, not exactly embracing Louisa, but resting against her shoulders. He noted with satisfaction that she neither twitched nor moved away. By the end of the journey she would beg for his kiss and one more wall would be gone.

‘Yes, that’s exactly what she said. How did you know?’

‘She said much the same to me. She might genuinely forget a few details, but that night should be branded on her memory.’

‘It is possible that she is determined to rewrite history.’ Louisa frowned. ‘Is Annie the Sims’s only child?’

‘I believe so.’ Jonathon frowned, trying to remember. ‘I will confess to not having paid much attention.’

‘I just wondered where Nanny Hawks fits in. Annie is her niece and I wondered if there were other children in the family.’

‘Nanny Hawks?’ Jonathon adjusted the way he held his arm so that he neatly cupped her shoulder, moving her ever so slowly closer to his body. ‘Nanny Hawks rarely speaks of her niece. I doubt they are close. And Nanny Hawks’s first loyalty is to Arthur and me. She will not have had anything to do with it.’

‘Annie strikes me as someone who has a lot of pride and she should be more vocal about her hatred. He betrayed her,’ Louisa said, dipping her head so that her eyes were hidden by the brim of her straw bonnet.

A pang of remorse sliced through him. He had sworn to protect her. He removed his arm from behind her and studied the outline of her bonnet. ‘Did you hate me?’

‘Yes, I thought I did.’

‘Do you hate me still?’

‘We were speaking of Annie and her lover,’ Louisa said, turning her head towards him. ‘But I have stopped hating you.’

‘A start.’

She smiled back. ‘More than a start. But we are speaking of Annie and not me.’

‘Her sentiment was perhaps too perfect?’ he asked quietly and ran an exploratory finger down the length of her arm. The pulse at the base of her throat quickened slightly from the light touch.

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Louisa developed an interest in her gloves. ‘You have it exactly. It is almost as if the speech has been rehearsed time and time again until she had it letter perfect. Why would this Trevor want her to return here? There could be nothing for him here, particularly when she returned the snuffbox. He will know that he is a wanted man.’

‘Do you think Annie is in danger, then?’

‘How could she be with her father there to protect her interests?’ Louisa said. ‘Annie might be hiding something else entirely. If only she had trusted me enough to say. She should have seen that I wanted to be her friend.’

‘Trust is important—particularly between friends.’

Jonathon allowed his hand to hover and her body slowly moved away from it until she rested snugly against him. She jumped slightly and hurriedly moved back towards his hand.

‘Shall I visit her again without you? It is not as if there is any danger and she might be more forthcoming if Lord Chesterholm is not within earshot,’ she said, relaxing back against his arm. ‘She refuses to say who at the Grange handed him the artefacts.’

‘Refuses?’ Jonathon removed his arm and stared down at her in astonishment. ‘You spoke to her about this? You promised, Louisa!’

‘There was little point in not asking. We have both experienced heartache. She was quite willing to tell
me the tale, but she deliberately skimmed over certain details.’

‘Indeed.’

‘I think she has a shrewd idea of who the insider is.’ Her clear amber gaze tumbled into his before she glanced away. ‘And I think she is protecting them. I wish I knew why.’

‘She should trust us to do the right thing. She should want to bring the culprit to justice.’

‘Perhaps her loyalties are at war. She grew up around here, but she still has feelings for this man. Love is not an emotion that you can just turn off at will, as much as one might desire it.’ She gave a tiny shrug.

‘Thank you for trying to help, Louisa.’ He twisted his fingers about hers and brought them to his lips. Her fingers trembled under his touch and her indrawn breath echoed around the carriage. ‘I will handle it from here. If he did send Annie, then he is dangerous and I cannot put you in danger. Promise me you will not contact Annie again.’

‘I am hardly a fainting violet.’

‘Allow me to worry about you. We are friends.’

‘If she contacts me, I will let you know. Does that satisfy you, Jonathon?’

‘It will have to do, but, by God, Louisa, you are far too independent for your own safety.’

Louisa allowed her hand to rest in his for a few heartbeats, luxuriating in his touch before giving in to propriety and withdrawing it. It would be so easy to give in and turn her head the barest bit and brush his lips with hers.

The invitation was there. It would be easy to let the last of her defences tumble.

A soft sigh escaped her throat.

Already she was coming to care for him and his son. It was wrong to hope. She knew precisely where that had led the last time and she had changed.

Perhaps his intentions had been honourable, but that did not mean they would have remained together in the way she wanted. Less than twenty-four hours after being with her and he had been travelling to see Clarissa to apologise. It was the only explanation for why he had had the accident where it had happened. She had always vowed that she’d never do such a thing again and yet here she was in a carriage with him.

She wanted to believe his words about what had happened before. He certainly had done everything he had promised so far. The grown-up Jonathon was proving a good deal more responsible than the man she had known before.

The temptation to go back to that lovestruck creature she once was washed over her. It was would be foolish to deny her growing attraction to Jonathon, but equally foolish to act on it. She knew the difference between what one should do, and acting on one’s impulses.

‘Why did you come with me today, Louisa?’ he asked in a lazy voice that sent ripples down her spine. ‘Why were you so eager to join me on this journey? Only yesterday you used the excuse of Miss Daphne’s shawl to avoid playing bowls.’

‘Why should I worry about being alone with you in a carriage?’ Louisa forced her voice to sound even and unperturbed but she was intensely aware of his nearness.
All she had to do was to lean a few inches closer and their lips would touch. Even his hand slipped from its resting place to further down her shoulders, urging her to snuggle closer. ‘You have protested that you are a gentleman. You have given me your word that I will be safe in carriages. I decided to trust you. And…’

He gave her a smouldering look.

Louisa forgot to breathe. Tiny bubbles of warmth fizzed through her veins. The kisses yesterday morning should never have happened. What was worse was that she kept replaying the entire scene in her mind and knew that she wanted to feel his mouth against hers again. She wanted his arms to hold her and to hear the thump of his heart against her ear. She wanted to believe in second chances and that, like Eros and Psyche, some people were destined for each other. There could be true meeting of heart and soul.

Here in the darkened carriage where they would not be interrupted, the urge to meet his lips and to turn her face towards his was growing with each beat of her heart. All the promises and protestations were just shields to keep her heart safe and her heart was whispering to take that last step and to take a risk, just as she had four years ago.

‘And…’ she began again, wetting her lips. ‘I enjoy pitting my wits against you. You make me think.’

‘What do you dream about?’

Louisa pressed her hands together. Unlike four years ago, she had grown and knew the difference between love and desire. It was simply a natural reaction to a highly attractive man. This time she was in control and she understood there was a limit to the affair. This was
not about love, but mutual attraction. It was about finishing what they had started all those years ago. She wanted him out of her blood. Maybe this was finally her opportunity to move on. ‘I no longer dream.’

‘Louisa, sometimes you have to take a chance,’ his voice rumbled in her ear, doing strange things to her insides. ‘Give me a chance to make your dreams come true.’

‘What if I am afraid?’ she whispered with her lips nearly touching his. ‘Following my dreams has not always brought happiness.’

‘You have to trust your instinct,’ he mouthed the words against her skin.

A sudden jolting of the carriage sent her sprawling towards the floor and then threw her back against the backboard. Everything slowed down and took an age. She saw the colour drain from Jonathon’s face as he reached towards her. Then suddenly the world sped up again and her head connected with the side of the carriage and the thump reverberated throughout the carriage.

His hand grabbed her waist and hauled her back against him. His face was white and tense.

‘What happened? An accident? Has your coachmen hit something?’

‘All will be well, Louisa, I promise,’ he breathed against her hair. ‘More than likely the carriage hit a pot hole. The sooner they get John McAdam and his miracle road surface out here the better. We will move on soon.’

‘Yes, roads are terrible wherever you go unless they have been macadamized.’ Louisa gave a little laugh to
show she was not frightened or unduly disturbed by the slight accident. Having Jonathon near her was far more disturbing. ‘Wise travellers always prepare for such things, or so Miss Mattie used to say. The problem is not hitting a rut, but staying in one.’

The carriage jerked forwards and then lurched to one side. Louisa grabbed on to his arm in an effort to steady herself. Her breasts skimmed his chest; if she leant a little further, her lips would meet his throat. She breathed in and savoured the scent of crisp linen and Jonathon before forcing her body to move away from his protective embrace.

‘What’s going on up there, Dexter?’ Jonathon rapped on the roof. ‘I pay you good money to drive this carriage safely and not put people in danger.’

‘Clipped a rut with the left side, but the carriage wheel should be fine. It don’t look too bad from here.’ The coachman let out a long curse.

‘Dexter, there is a lady present.’

‘Begging your pardon, ma’am. The right side has become stuck in the mud I was attempting to avoid in the first place.’

‘Do you need to inspect it? See if the shaft is broken?’

‘Shouldn’t think so, my lord. It doesn’t look too deep and the horses are strong.’

‘See if it can continue, but if you need assistance, ask,’ Jonathon said, sitting bolt upright. ‘Miss Sibson would like to return to the Grange as soon as possible.’

Louisa opened her mouth to protest, but then realised it was providence. She should be on her knees, grateful for the accident, rather than wishing it had never
happened. ‘That’s right. We need to return to Chesterholm with all speed. Miss Daphne will become concerned if I am gone too long.’

‘But in safety.’ Jonathon’s face was remote and Louisa knew the moment of intimacy had passed. A pang ran through her. Her insides ached for him. ‘We must go at a slow speed. Trust me on this, Louisa. Slow but steady and we will arrive.’

‘It is better than not arriving at all.’

‘Precisely.’ He ran an exploratory hand down her arm. ‘Are you certain you are uninjured?’

‘I might have a bruise or two, but nothing untoward. It was the merest bump.’ Louisa concentrated on her gloves. She had to remember her rules and principles. Nothing would happen that she did not desire. There was the rub. She did desire his touch and his kiss, but she needed more than her desire. ‘I am a good traveller. You need not be concerned about me.’

‘If you are sure…’ He touched the brim of her bonnet with his forefinger. ‘You are a guest in my house.’

Louisa moved over to the other seat so she sat facing him. She had to look on this as an act of providence. She had been in the process of forgetting her rules. Another few heartbeats and they would have gone so far beyond the bounds of propriety that she would never be able to find her way back. Only, propriety seemed suddenly to be a very lonely place. ‘I am sure.’

The carriage limped on for a few more turns of the wheel before juddering to a stop. Louisa stared at Jonathon, who closed his eyes and swore under his breath.

‘It is no good,’ she said. ‘Even I can feel that the carriage
is broken. It will never make Chesterholm unless a new wheel is found.’