The Governess Club: Sara (18 page)

“Sara,” he said, his voice uncharacteristic in its gentleness, “you must trust me.”

She swallowed. “I am confused,” she whispered.

A flicker of relief crossed his face. “About what?”

“This. What we are doing.”

His hand fell away from her chin and he took a step back. Sara saw his lips start to tighten into their familiar scowl. A few ants climbed into her throat. “Please don’t be angry,” she begged, unwilling to have another attack in front of him. “Please just allow me to explain.”

“I am . . .” Nathan cleared his throat. “I am not angry.” It wasn’t anger filling his stomach but disappointment. No wonder he had awoken alone this morning; she was having second thoughts after all. He supposed the light of day always made people see things differently than the dark of night.

She looked relieved. “Thank you.” She fell silent for another moment. Nathan guessed she was gathering her thoughts. “I find that I am at war with myself.”

“Indeed?”

“All my life, I have been told that it is a sin to know a man as a wife knows her husband before I am married. I have heard many stories of fallen women and the hardship their lives become. My mind knows this.”

“But?” Nathan prodded when she fell silent again. This was nothing he hadn’t heard before from countless mothers. He had thought that Sara’s thirst for adventure had overridden this lesson, but it appeared to be a temporary thing. The disappointment continued to solidify in his stomach.

He had not realized how much he had wanted this adventure as well.

“But when I am close to you, when I see you, those thoughts are replaced by others. Ones I know I should not have, but cannot stop. I don’t even know if I want to stop.”

That
gave him hope. He prodded her again to make sure. “What sort of thoughts?”

Her face, already pink from the wind and likely her confession, deepened some more. “Thoughts like,” she swallowed. “Thoughts like the ones you shared with me at the fair that night.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded. Her voice had fallen to a whisper. Nathan stepped closer again to hear her better and to keep the wind from snatching her words away. “I want you to kiss me. With your tongue, again and again. I want you to touch me like you did last night, only more and better, if that makes any sense. I know what this makes me, but I can’t seem to stop it. Even now, even with what I just told you, a part of me wants you to take me back to the manor so we can be private, and the other part of me hates me for it. I have lied to my friends, opened myself up to carnal sin and have said more brazen things in the last week than I have my entire life. I do not recognize myself anymore.” Misery covered her face.

Well, if that didn’t have his shoulders prickling again. For the better part of his political career, Nathan had learned the skill of not feeling like a cad—one couldn’t, in his chosen profession. Too many broken promises and disappointed constituents. But seeing Sara tearing herself apart like this—he rolled his shoulders to rid himself of the nettles burrowing under his skin. Being an honorable man had not been an expectation as a politician and he found it an uncomfortable fit now, despite its necessity.

He said, “You are under no obligation to see our arrangement through to the end.” Primordial Nathan reared his head and howled in anger. Nathan continued. “I have no wish to seduce unwilling women.”

“But that’s where my confusion lies,” Sara replied, still holding her bonnet to keep it from flying away. “I am uncertain if I am willing or not. What about my adventure?”

“Adventures come in many forms. Sexual knowledge need not be one of them.”

“What are you saying?”

Nathan’s mind raced. He had to come up with a plan to have her stay and satisfy her conscience as well. He would allow her to leave if she truly wanted, but he must try first to prevent that. “We can make this week about doing things you have never done before. That would be considered an adventure, would it not?”

She regarded him for a moment. “I suppose it could,” she replied slowly. “But what sort of things do you mean?”

He shrugged. “You tell me. What are some things you have never done but always wanted to?”

Sara looked off into the distance toward Cloverfields. “Travel,” she said after a few moments. “I have always wanted to go to Scotland.”

Nathan felt one of the corners of his mouth tug up. “Well, I can’t get you to Scotland and back in a week, but you have traveled here, a portion of it on your own. That seems pretty adventurous to me.”

A responding smile crept over her face. “I did do that, didn’t I?”

He nodded. “And there was nothing sinful about it. At least, not in the eyes of God. Society is another matter but the ramifications are less eternal.”

Her face pinkened again at his teasing tone. He hadn’t teased in years. That did explain his lousy attempt. “What else have you always wanted to do?”

She fell silent again. He was learning to wait them out, understanding that she would talk when she was ready. When she did, her question had Primordial Nathan doing a little jig. “Will we still share a bed? Without the martial intimacies?”

“If that is what you want.”

She nodded. “I enjoyed sleeping with you.”

“Then we shall continue. What else would you like to do this week?”

Sara shook her head. “I cannot think of anything worthwhile.”

He took her hand in his. “Let me be the judge of that. If it is something you have never done, then it will be worthwhile this week.”

“You will think me foolish.”

“I vow upon my grandmother’s grave that I will not.” He placed his other hand over his heart for emphasis.

“Your grandmother’s grave?” she asked. “You were close to her?”

Nathan refused to be drawn into that conversation. “This week is about you, Sara. Tell me, what is something you have always wanted to do?”

She shook her head again. “I truly cannot think of anything beyond traveling.”

“It does not need to be anything significant or monumental. For instance, have you ever rolled down a hill?”

“Rolled down a hill?” she echoed.

He nodded. “You know, lie on your back at the top and then roll down.”

“Never. I have never done that.”

Nathan blinked. He hadn’t actually expected that to be her answer. “Truly?”

She shook her head.

“Then I suppose you have never walked with bare feet through the grass.”

She looked momentarily appalled before swallowing and lifting her chin. “I have not. Anyone might happen upon me and see something they should not. It is not proper to tempt others into sin.”

“Well, I believe I am already doomed to spend eternity in damnation; I was a politician after all.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Since when did he wiggle his eyebrows at a woman?
“I am the best candidate to view your bare feet. There is no risk to my immortal soul. We shall roll down the hill and then we shall walk with bare feet back for luncheon.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”

“Sara, you are going roll down that hill if I have to push you myself. Then, if you do not take off your shoes and stockings, I will chase you down and tear them off myself. Is that clear?”

Sara ate luncheon that day with the dirtiest dress she had ever worn. And she couldn’t stop smiling.

“W
e just lie here?”

“And wait for the tray to arrive.” Having seen to the bell pull, Nathan settled back into the bed, immediately returning his body beside Sara’s. It only took a moment for her to lay her head against his shoulder, nestling against his side. His arm came around her, his hand settling on her arm and tracing a light pattern. He could feel her warm breath tickling his skin and her cheek move as it tightened into a smile.

“Breakfast in bed,” she repeated her earlier words. “I am going to have breakfast in bed.”

“Why haven’t you had this before?” he asked.

“My father was a vicar and his living was hardly enough to pay for someone to come do our laundry. My mother and I managed most of the house on our own. There was no time or servant for such an indulgence.”

“But then you lived at a country estate.”

“Yes, as a governess. Servants are not inclined to serve other servants; they are much too busy attending to the family. Besides, I was to eat with the children, mainly. A tray was out of the question.”

“But at Ridgestone?”

He felt her shrug. Her hand moved from her side to rest on his abdomen. Nathan’s muscles clenched under the contact and he willed his reaction to remain innocuous. “We still don’t employ many servants; to be financially secure we must be frugal. And I am in the habit of rising early and eating in the morning room anyway.”

He smiled down at her head, a shaft of light penetrating the bed curtains allowing him to see the mass of red curls surrounding her crown. “I am becoming very educated about governesses. At least one particular governess.”

Her head tilted so she could look at him. “And you speak as one who has always had servants to attend to him. Not everyone is so fortunate.”

“Indeed.”

She moved so she was lying across his side to look at him directly. “What about your childhood?”

“What about it?”

“Tell me about it.”

“There is not much to tell. I was young. I grew up.”

Her brow furrowed at his answer, but she did not speak. She laid her head back down against his shoulder, not questioning him further.

Dammit, if those nettles on his shoulders weren’t back. He grimaced and sighed. “I inherited Cloverfields from my grandmother. My father did not put on an appearance after I was born; he apparently disliked having a wife and child. My grandmother raised me after my mother died of a fever. I was five.”

“Oh, Nathan, I am so sorry,” Sara gasped. She raised her head to look at him, sorrow and sympathy in her eyes. She reached up to caress his cheek, her fingers soft against his morning beard.

“It is nothing,” he brushed it off. “It happened long ago and I wanted for little. My grandmother was a fine woman.”

He was saved from saying more by the knock on the door. “Enter,” he called out.

“Morning, sir,” Liam’s voice broke through the bed curtains. “Mam sent me with your tray.”

Nathan rolled away from Sara and rose from the bed, using the bed curtains to shield her from the boy’s view. “Put it on the table,” he instructed as he knotted a robe around him. Sara heard Liam move and do so, then leave after some murmured instructions from Nathan. After the door closed, sunlight flooded the bed as he threw open the curtains. Sara blinked, raising a hand to protect her eyes against the bright June morning sun. She sat up, pushing her hair to her back and pulled the sheets up to cover her chest. She watched as he picked up the tray and carried to the bed.

“Sit back against the head,” he instructed. She did so and he placed the tray over her legs. It was high enough for comfort and she adjusted herself again as he sat in front of her. With a flourish, he took one of the napkins and laid it across her lap, giving her a boyish smile as he did so. Sara blinked and her stomach fluttered.

She looked down at the tray in front of her, piled high with toast, eggs, ham, bacon, early strawberries, butter and jam. A simple floral teapot with two matching cups and cream and sugar accompanied the meal. Her eyes widened when she saw the quantity of the serving.

“I cannot eat all this,” she protested.

He lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Then it is fortunate that I plan to eat as well.”

She felt her face heat with embarrassment, having not considered that he would share her tray. Yet another adventure to be crossed off the list.

“What would you like to eat first?” he asked.

“Toast, please,” she replied, reaching for the food. He gently batted her hand away and picked up a piece.

“Butter or jam?”

“May I have both?”

“As you wish.”

Sara watched in amazement as he buttered and spread jam over a piece of toast and handed it to her on a plate. “Thank you,” she said and took a bite. As she ate, he prepared another piece and placed it on her plate as well before taking a piece of bacon and popping it into his mouth. As he chewed, he poured two cups of tea and put milk and sugar into both.

She swallowed. “You don’t have to prepare my breakfast for me.”

He ignored her. “Would you like some eggs? Bacon?”

She shook her head. “Just the toast is fine. It is all I need.”

He frowned. “This is not about what you need but rather about what you want. Eggs are good for you and Mrs. Taggert has cooked this bacon to perfection. Have some.” Without waiting for her response, Nathan began putting some on her plate. Strawberries were added to the pile as well as a piece of ham. “I expect you to eat this all,” he ordered, a stern look on his face. “There are children in the rookeries who don’t see this much food in a week.”

Sara ate a forkful of eggs, bemused at his behavior. He was gruff and sometimes callous, of that there was little doubt, but there were moments such as these that he betrayed a kinder disposition. For some reason to hide it.

She sipped some tea, washing down her food. “The children in the rookeries, were you involved in any causes to help them?”

“There was a proposed bill a few years ago that would fund more orphanages and apprenticeships in the Seven Dials district, but it was dismissed before it even reached the floor for debate.”

“Why is that?”

Nathan shrugged and ate some ham, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “Influential people did not want to see funding for such a project. They preferred the money be directed toward their chosen causes. Try one of the strawberries.” He took one off her plate and held it up to her lips. Sara obediently opened her mouth and he slid it inside, his fingers brushing her lips. She met his gaze, recognized the smolder in them and a responding desire for his kiss grew in her. While he had held her all through the night, he had made no move to press any further intimacies on her.

She had been disappointed at that and now wished there was not a breakfast tray between them.