Not Just a Governess (5 page)

Yes, he had become both selfish and cynical these past six years. And yet…And yet this little governess had brought something to life in him that was neither of those things, a desire not to act in his own interest, but instead for the pleasure of others. A desire to please her that had nothing to do with the physical attraction he felt towards her…

Adam straightened abruptly before moving back round his desk and sitting down behind it, his tone cool and controlled when at last he spoke. ‘The seamstress will think you have forgotten about her.’

In truth, Elena
had
forgotten that lady’s presence upstairs in her bedchamber during this past few minutes’ conversation. Indeed, she had forgotten everything but the disturbing gentleman who now looked across the desk at her so disdainfully. A gentleman who suddenly looked so very different to the handsomely boyish one who had burst into spontaneous laughter only minutes earlier…

‘And Amanda’s pony and riding lessons?’

His mouth thinned. ‘I will see what can be arranged.’

Elena’s heart sank in disappointment as she turned to leave, inwardly knowing that any ‘arrangements’ Adam Hawthorne chose to make about Amanda’s riding lessons were unlikely to include him.

‘And, Mrs Leighton…?’

She turned back slowly, her expression wary. ‘Yes?’

He sighed his exasperation. ‘You have a look on your face like that of a beast in fear of being whipped!’

Elena stiffened in outrage. ‘I trust that is not the case?’

‘It was not a personal threat, madam, but a figure of speech!’ Adam scowled, knowing
he had once again been wrong-footed by this exasperating woman.

‘Then it was an exceedingly unpleasant one,’ she protested.

Adam gritted his back teeth together so tightly he feared they might snap out of his jaw, knowing he should not have delayed her departure from his study, but let her return upstairs to the attentions of the seamstress. And he would have done so, if not for the look of disappointment on her face after he had dismissed both her and her request that he be the one to teach Amanda to ride.

He took a steadying breath. ‘I believe you take delight in misunderstanding me!’

She raised dark brows. ‘I assure you, I take no delight at all in imagining you—or, indeed, anyone else—whipping an innocent beast of any kind.’

‘I merely said—’ Adam rose to his feet once again to round the desk with a sudden burst of frustrated energy before grasping her by the slenderness of her shoulders and shaking her slightly to emphasise his next words. ‘I have never been a party to whipping a woman, man, nor beast, damn it!’

‘I am glad to hear it.’ Her voice had softened huskily.

Bringing Adam to an awareness of the fact that he still had hold of her by the shoulders, that he could feel the delicacy of her bones through the thin material of her black gown, the soft pads of his thumbs actually touching the silky softness of the flesh just above the ivory swell of her breasts…

And it was very silky skin, so soft and smooth as Adam lowered his gaze to watch as he gave in to the temptation to run the pads of his thumbs caressingly over that delectable flesh, his hands appearing dark and very big against that delicate and unblemished ivory.

Standing this close to Elena, he could once again smell lemons, and something lightly floral, the top of her dark head barely reaching his shoulders, her figure slender in any case, but appearing more so when measured against his own height and breadth. Even the firm swell of her breasts, above the scooped neckline of her gown, was delicately tempting rather than voluptuous.

Damn it, he should have stayed seated behind his desk, safely removed from that temptation! Should never have—His gaze became riveted on the full pout of Elena’s mouth as she ran the moist tip of her tongue nervously
across her lips whilst looking up at him from between silky dark lashes.

‘My lord…?’

Adam drew in a deep, controlling breath even as he closed his eyes in an effort not to look at those now moist lips. Moist and utterly kissable lips. ‘Do not—Elena…!’ he groaned huskily in defeat as he opened his eyes and saw she had now caught her bottom lip between tiny, pearly-white teeth.

Her eyes widened slightly, those long, dark lashes framing those blue-green orbs, her throat moving when she swallowed as Adam slowly began to draw her closer towards him. ‘My lord…?’ she whispered again.

‘Adam,’ he encouraged gruffly.

Elena would have protested his request for such informality—if he had not chosen that moment to draw her closer still before lowering his head and she felt the gentle, intimate touch of his lips against the curve of her throat.

Surprisingly warm and sensuous lips, considering how cold and abrupt this man so often was. Instead of the fear and recoil that she might have been expected to feel, after Neville’s harsh treatment of her, Elena relaxed into the safety of Adam Hawthorne’s arms,
safe in the knowledge that he was not a man to ever use force on any woman.

It was at once a surprise and yet the most thrilling experience of her lifetime, to be held by and touching Adam so intimately, and to feel the warmth of his breath heating her flesh, even as his lips tasted and caressed the slender column of her throat, the gentle bite of his teeth on her earlobe causing her to tremble as her breath hitched in her throat.

Her breasts became full, the tips full and sensitive, as those warm lips trailed along the line of her jaw before finally claiming her parted mouth in a deep and searching kiss that caused the heat to course through her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, settling at that secret, intimate place between her thighs. Elena’s head was swirling, thought impossible, denial even more so as Adam’s hands moved down from her shoulders to encircle her waist as he crushed her against him, his lips even more fiercely demanding against her own.

Then, just as suddenly, his mouth was wrenched away as he put her firmly apart from him before releasing her. Elena stumbled slightly as she attempted to regain her balance on legs that seemed to have all the substance
of jelly, her lips feeling bruised and swollen, her cheeks flushed, breasts full and aching inside the bodice of her gown.

Elena blinked several times as she attempted to focus on Adam, only to step back in alarm as she found herself looking into the hard grey chips of ice that were his eyes.

‘That was a mistake on more levels than I care to contemplate,’ he rasped harshly, his face all sharp and disapproving angles, the tousled darkness of his hair the only indication that moments ago this man had kissed her, as Elena had kissed him back, and her fingers had become passionately entangled in his thick raven locks.

‘A mistake…?’ She felt a sharp tightening in her chest almost akin to pain, knowing that she felt the opposite, that kissing Adam had been the most wonderful of pleasures, more delicious than she had ever dared to hope a kiss ever could be. A kiss so unlike the ones her cousin had forced upon her—

No!

There were some things Elena could not—would not think about.

‘On so many, many levels,’ Adam repeated grimly as he saw the way in which her face had paled.

No doubt in reaction to the realisation that her employer had just kissed her with an intimacy and passion totally unacceptable to her, or the disparity in their social positions. Not that the raging of his libido cared one way or the other about that, but Adam must!

‘For which you have my heartfelt apology,’ he added, mortified with himself. ‘I do not know—it was not my intention—it will not happen again,’ he vowed.

At least, Adam would do what he could to ensure that it did not happen again! In truth, he was not sure how it had happened a first time…

There had been perhaps a dozen or so women in his life since Fanny died, women he had spent a few hours of intimacy with and never seen again. Beautiful as Elena might be, for him to have stepped over that line, for him to not only have felt desire for one of his own servants, but to have acted upon it, was totally unacceptable to him. Quite how he was going to feel, to react to her, once she had ceased wearing these unbecoming gowns, he dare not think. With decency and restraint, it was to be hoped. But—

‘You were about to say something earlier as I began to leave the room…?’

Adam scowled as he tried to remember what she was referring to, his mind and body both still dominated by only one thought: his desire for her.

Ah, yes…‘I believe I was about to suggest that a riding habit might also be a useful addition to your wardrobe.’

Her eyes widened dubiously. ‘A riding habit, my lord?’

His jaw tightened. ‘Yes. Perhaps in turquoise or blue?’ he found himself adding—before instantly castigating himself for caring what the colour of her riding habit should be.

‘Very well, my lord.’ She looked at him for several seconds longer, before giving a brief curtsy. ‘If you will excuse me, I must return to the schoolroom.’

‘And the seamstress.’

‘Indeed.’ She did not look at him again before leaving.

Adam frowned darkly once Elena had departed his study, knowing that he had made life decidedly uncomfortable for himself just now.

The throbbing ache in his groin spoke of his obvious physical discomfort, but it was the inner dissatisfaction, with his own completely uncharacteristic behaviour of making love to
a female servant in his own household, and Elena’s reaction to it once she had found the time and privacy in which to reflect, which caused Adam to continue to soundly castigate himself.

Elena might choose to believe that he did not take enough of an interest in his daughter or her life, but Adam knew enough to know that Amanda had been happier in recent weeks, more contented, since the advent of her new governess into her life.

His unacceptable behaviour just now might have put that in jeopardy if, on reflection, Elena should decide that she could not continue working for a man who attempted to take liberties with her.

There was another aspect to consider, Adam realised with a heavy heart, and that was his loss of control in kissing her at all. A loss of control he certainly did not welcome. Most especially with a woman he was fast beginning to suspect was much more than she seemed.

‘I
thought your lessons would be over for the morning?’

‘We are just finishing now.’ Elena deliberately kept her gaze away from Adam and on the textbook she had been using to teach Amanda some basic arithmetic, but that did not stop the colour from warming her cheeks as she recalled—how would she ever be able to forget!—being kissed by him so passionately.

In fact, Elena had lain awake in her bed these past two nights unable to think of anything else.

Neville’s brutality two months ago had been…shocking. Horrendous. Something Elena knew she would also never ever forget
and not in a good way like Adam’s kiss. She had been sure the experience would prevent her from ever allowing another man to so much as hold her, let alone kiss her, in future. And yet, not only had she allowed her handsome, charismatic employer to do so, but she knew she had kissed him back.

Because she felt safe with him? Could that be it? Yet how was it possible for her to feel safe with a man whom she also found so physically arousing? The feelings he’d created inside her still made her blush just to think of them.

‘Papa?’ Amanda looked at her father uncertainly as he stood in the doorway.

Elena’s breath caught in her throat as she at last looked up and took in Adam’s wide-shouldered appearance. He was pristinely attired in a deep-grey superfine, black waistcoat and pale-grey pantaloons tucked into black Hessians, with his dark hair brushed neatly back from his harshly handsome face. A face that looked every bit as remote as on the first occasion Elena had met him, grey eyes chillingly cold as he met her gaze unblinkingly. As warning, perhaps, that he deeply regretted the last time the two of them had been together? As if Elena had not already guessed
that from the distance he had kept from her ever since then.

‘What do you have in the basket, Papa?’

Elena, having also noted the wicker basket beside him in the doorway, had been wondering the same. Especially as it gave every appearance of being a picnic basket.

‘Our picnic luncheon,’ Adam confirmed that suspicion.

‘A picnic, Papa…?’ Amanda looked even more bewildered.

He nodded. ‘It is the perfect day for it, if you two ladies would care to join me?’

Two
ladies? Adam seriously expected Elena to join father and daughter for their picnic?

‘Really, Papa?’ For once Amanda completely forgot her usual reserve when in her father’s company, as she instead jumped up and down excitedly. ‘Oh, may we, Mrs Leighton? May we?’ She looked up at Elena appealingly with those beguiling sapphire-blue eyes.

Much as Elena loved the thought of sitting on a blanket beneath one of the splendid oak trees in the garden, or possibly beside the huge lake beyond the gardens at the back of the house, and enjoying a leisurely alfresco luncheon, she was unsure of the wisdom of spending even that amount of time in close
proximity with Adam, following the inappropriate behaviour between them, and her confusion, and his frosty demeanour towards her, ever since.

‘Mrs Leighton?’ Adam prompted when she didn’t answer.

Elena deliberately kept her attention centred on Amanda. ‘I am sure you do not need my permission to join your father for luncheon, Amanda,’ she said with a smile. ‘I, however, have some things in the schoolroom in need of my attention—’

‘Such as…?’ Adam challenged her coolly; he had initially been unsure of the wisdom of inviting Elena to join them in the first place, but now found, contrarily, that he was more than a little irritated at her reluctance to accept that invitation now he had made it, dash it all!

A frown appeared between those blue-green eyes. ‘I have tomorrow’s lessons to prepare—’

‘And, as such, they can as easily be prepared this evening,’ he dismissed briskly. ‘It is too fine a day to spend all of it shut indoors.’

‘I would not wish to intrude.’ Her smile was overbright, her gaze not quite meeting his.

Adam’s mouth tightened. It was as he had
thought might be the case; after his appalling behaviour, she could barely stand to look at him, let alone spend any more time in his company than she had to. Perhaps if he tried to ease her nerves? ‘It would be the ideal occasion on which to show off what I am presuming is one of your new gowns,’ he cajoled, while allowing himself to inwardly admire the way in which her deep rose-coloured gown perfectly complemented her ivory complexion and the darkness of her hair.

She wore those dark tresses in a less-severe style today, too, several loose curls at her temples and nape giving her a much more youthful appearance, bringing about a sudden recollection of how she had not been altogether honest with him in regard to her true age when she had first applied for the job.

His mouth tightened as he privately wondered what other secrets the puzzling Elena Leighton might be keeping from him…

Her cheeks blushed the same becoming rose as her gown. ‘Mrs Hepworth was able to finish and deliver this first gown early yesterday evening.’

‘Her promptness is to be commended.’ He turned away to look at his daughter. ‘Now,
I believe Amanda, for one, is eager for her luncheon.’

Amanda beamed up at him. ‘We are really to have a picnic together, Papa?’

‘I have said so, yes.’

Amanda did a happy little skip. ‘I have never been on a picnic before.’

A frown appeared on Adam’s brow as he looked at his young daughter’s glowingly excited face. His marriage to Fanny had been a mistake, for which he had paid dearly, and he had always been grateful that Amanda had been far too young, when her mother died, to have ever witnessed the unhappiness that had existed between her mother and father.

But Adam had sincerely believed, until his conversations with Elena this past week, that he had been a good father to Amanda, given the circumstances, and his own lack of experience and knowledge in that regard. Amanda’s excitement now, at the thought of such a simple pleasure as the sharing of a picnic together, once again led him to question that belief.

He forced the tension from his shoulders. ‘Then it is for Mrs Leighton and me to do everything we can to ensure that you enjoy this, your very first one.’

Amanda reached out and wrapped both her arms about one of his as she gave him a hug. ‘Thank you, Papa. Oh, thank you!’

‘Mrs Leighton?’

Elena had watched the exchange between father and daughter with increasingly softening feelings; far from chastising Amanda for wrinkling his perfectly tailored superfine, as many gentlemen of the
ton
might have done, Adam had actually placed his hand on top of his daughter’s in a gesture of affection. A gesture not lost on Amanda as she gazed up at him adoringly.

It took so little for Amanda to forget, for a time at least, to be that restrained little girl who normally spent only a very short time each day with her father; Amanda’s eyes gleamed like sapphires, her face alight with anticipation at the prospect of such a treat.

‘Mrs Leighton?’ Adam repeated with unaccustomed patience at her continued silence.

Elena could not speak momentarily for the lump of emotion that had formed in her throat, her eyes having gone quite misty. She swallowed now to clear the dryness from her throat. ‘If you are sure I will not be intruding…?’

‘I would not have invited you if I had considered
that to be a possibility,’ he came back crisply.

No, of course he would not. Elena still continued to forget, on occasion, that she was now a governess rather than the beloved granddaughter of a duke. That same accomplished young woman who had once acted as mistress of her grandfather’s estates, and as such, the person used to issuing the invitations, rather than the other way about. ‘In that case, I should love to join you both, thank you.’ She gave an almost regal inclination of her head—for she did not always have to forget she possessed the graciousness of extremely well-born manners!

‘How are you liking Cambridgeshire, Mrs Leighton?’

Elena—sitting primly on the same blanket where Adam, hat removed, lay in relaxed repose a short distance away, their picnic luncheon eaten—turned from watching Amanda scamper about the garden chasing elusive butterflies. ‘I like it very much from the little I saw of it on the drive here.’

He raised dark brows. ‘Is that a complaint regarding the lack of any outings since your arrival?’

Elena’s cheeks felt once again as if they had flushed the same deep rose as her new gown. Why did he constantly put her on the back foot? ‘It is not my place to complain, my lord,’ she murmured.

He snorted in patent disbelief. ‘I seem to recall you telling me it is “not your place” to advise me how to bring up my own daughter—and yet you have done so, on several occasions. I believe you also claimed it is “not your place” to tell me how and when I should deal with the tenants on my estate, whilst at the same time pointing out that it is my duty to attend church on a Sunday, in order that I might converse with them.’ One dark teasing brow flicked up to gently mock her. ‘Tell me, madam, why should I now believe you when you say it is “not your place” to complain about the lack of entertainment provided since your arrival here?’

Elena’s cheeks had grown hotter and hotter with each word that he spoke. Each damning,
truthful
word. For she had done those things. Out of a sense of rightness. The first for Amanda’s benefit, the second out of consideration for the workers and tenants of Adam’s estate. But Elena felt sure that the real Mrs Leighton would never have forgotten ‘her
place’ as to be so forward, or so outspoken, in her views.

She winced. ‘I was merely commenting on the fact that I cannot make an educated judgement as to the attractions or otherwise of Cambridgeshire when I have seen so little of it—have I said something to amuse you, my lord?’

Adam exploded into full-throated laughter at the look of indignation on Elena’s beautiful face. Indeed, he had laughed more in this woman’s company than he had for—in fact, he could not remember how long it had been since he had last laughed with such spontaneity!

Admittedly, he was laughing at her this time rather than with her, but it nevertheless felt good to once again experience that lightness of humour and heart, to truly enjoy a woman’s company. ‘Do not look so indignant.’ He was tempted to lift his hand to reach up and smooth the frown from Elena’s brow with his fingertips, and at the same time enjoy touching her smooth and velvetsoft skin. His laughter slowly faded as he strongly resisted that temptation. ‘Perhaps I should consider organising a dinner party so that you might meet some of my neighbours?’

Elena looked more than a little alarmed. ‘Even if you were to do so, the governess of your young daughter could not possibly be one of the guests at your dinner table.’

Adam raised an arrogant brow. ‘I believe it is for me to say who may or may not be seated at my dinner table.’

She gave a sharp shake of her head. ‘And, as such, you know it would not be fitting for me to be present, my lord.’

Yes, Adam knew better than most the dictates of society—he should do, Fanny had broken them often enough! Which was why he always took care to do the opposite, mainly by absenting himself from society completely.

What was it Royston had called him several evenings ago? Besides a prickly bastard? Ah, yes, Royston had accused him of being a recluse. Not completely accurate, but close enough; removing himself from inclusion in society was by far the easiest way of ensuring that Adam broke none of society’s rigid rules. As a widower, his invitation for the beautiful governess of his young daughter to join his other guests for dinner would certainly cause every bit of that gossip and speculation he had managed to avoid since Fanny’s death.

Adam frowned. ‘You are far too beautiful
to want to hide away in the schoolroom forever.’

‘I am content there,’ she insisted softly.

‘You have no ambition in life other than to be a governess to a six-year-old girl?’

She blinked long dark lashes. ‘Amanda will not always be aged six.’

He gave a tight smile. ‘I believe you are being deliberately obtuse.’

Elena had no idea what she was being, what she was thinking. How could she, when Adam was looking up at her with eyes as soft and dark a grey as a pigeon’s wing? ‘What—what else should I be if not governess to Amanda, or someone like her?’

The black of Adam’s pupils seemed to expand so that they almost encompassed that soft velvet grey even as he moved closer. ‘Have you never considered—?’

‘Papa, come and see the tiny kitten I have found!’ Amanda, totally relaxed in her father’s company following their picnic, called excitedly to him from across the garden.

Elena continued to be caught in the spell of those velvet grey-eyes for several long seconds more before she made a deliberate effort to break away, turning and looking across to where Amanda held a black kitten cradled
gently in her arms. ‘Careful it is not feral!’ She gathered her skirts before rising quickly to her feet. ‘My lord…!’

She looked at Adam imploringly as he rose to his booted feet beside her.

Adam cursed himself for being a fool even as he hurriedly crossed the garden to Amanda and quickly relieved her of the tiny black kitten, knowing he had been about to make a scandalous suggestion to Elena that would have resulted in her either accepting that offer or slapping his face for daring to voice it. Neither of which he wanted.

He did not want nor need a mistress.

Not even one he found as amusing and desirable as Elena Leighton. Most especially one he found as amusing and desirable as Elena Leighton!

And if she had slapped his face, for daring to make her such a reprehensible offer, then she would no doubt have given him notice only seconds later, too. For they could not continue in the way they had been if he were ever to make such an offer and she were to refuse it.

Leaving Amanda without a governess she liked and Adam without the unexpected source of pleasure, and amusement, the brief
times he spent with Elena were becoming to him. It was an unpalatable thought and one he swiftly pushed out of his head.

‘It is all right, is it not, Papa…?’ his daughter looked up at him uncertainly.