Chapter Seven

July 28, 1817

"G o outside and play in the garden. I shall join you in a few minutes for our lesson on native plant life," Gigi said to the girls as they finished their luncheon in the attic room that had been set aside for schoolwork. Any time after the meal, she refused to use the attic space, for it was much too warm in the summer.

"Can we dig for worms?" Penny wanted to know as she bounded off her chair.

"I would rather you didn't since we have an afternoon of lessons to attend." When the girl groaned, she held up a hand. "However, if we get through the lessons early, then you may dig for worms after tea."

Lily was much slower to leave the table, for if there was one thing she adored doing, it was eating. "Could we pick flowers?"

"Not from the bushes in your uncle's garden. I believe those are for the tea table and dinner table, but if you find some wildflowers close by, then by all means build your own bouquet."

"For you?" the little girl wanted to know.

"Only if you wish it." Gigi gathered the used dishes to make it easier on the maid when she came to clean up.

Penny came close with a particular sparkle in her green eyes. "Have you ever received one from a man?"

"A few times."

Lily giggled. "From Uncle Thomas?"

Heat built in Gigi's cheeks as she remembered that kiss from that day at the pond. "Of course not. I'm your governess, not someone he is courting."

"Oh." Penny frowned. "Why can he not give you flowers anyway?"

"It's not proper, and remember, it is my responsibility to teach you what is proper and what isn't." Too much more time spent in this conversation, and she would be in the weeds. Finished at the table, she stood and shooed the girls toward the door. "If you linger too long here, I'll give you an extra lesson."

"No!" Penny was almost feral in her denial of more learning.

As if those were magic words, both Penny and Lily pelted from the room and down the narrow wooden stairs. Their footsteps echoed as they gained the second floor and continued down the stairs.

"I can't say that I blame you," Gigi murmured to herself, for she had been much like Penny in her aversion to book learning, which was why she tried to make certain their lessons didn't come from books all that much. Of course, it was the summer yet, and a serious school "term" hadn't yet begun. No doubt all of that would change once autumn arrived.

After she'd tidied the room, she stopped in her tiny bedchamber to freshen up then on the stairs, she met the housekeeper who had folded bed linens in her arms.

"Be advised, Miss Hasting. The vicar has a visitor just now," Mrs. Traverse said with a slight smirk on her face.

"Oh? Who?" While it wasn't rare for Thomas to have visitors, usually he called upon various members of his flock.

The older woman shrugged. "A Miss Partridge. If I remember correctly, she's the daughter of a squire, and rumor holds she is quite desperate to marry since she just passed her twenty-third birthday."

"Ah, the terror of becoming an old maid is a good motivator." Gigi winked, for she and the housekeeper had enjoyed a few cuppas with a few snippets of gossip in the week that she'd been installed as a governess.

With a grin, Mrs. Traverse continued on her way up the stairs while Gigi went downward. Because she had no shame and because she was more than a little curious, she crept to the open parlor door and paused in the corridor outside the room merely to listen.

"I hope you enjoy this cake, Vicar. I made it myself, and I'm told my vanilla spice cakes are second to none in the village."

When Gigi peeked her head around the doorframe, her gaze fell on a pretty young lady with clouds of brunette hair and a gorgeous white frosted cake resting on a lovely porcelain platter on the low table. And she was making calf-eyes at Thomas.

"I'm sure it will be a delightful dessert for the girls and me after dinner. Thank you, Miss Patridge, for thinking of us." He was as nice and polite as he was with everyone, but the woman did her level best to flirt with him.

"Oh, it was actually you I thought about the whole time I made that cake," she said in a breathless sort of voice. "In fact, I find myself thinking about you often ."

Gigi moved away from the door so they couldn't see her while she pointed her gaze briefly to the heavens. Could the woman be any more obvious in her attempts?

"I am not sure how to respond to that, Miss Partridge," Thomas said with confusion clear in his voice. "However, I'm glad you came to visit. As I said, we will put this cake to good use."

"Let us forget about the cake for the next few moments." Fabric rustled, indicating the young woman had moved, no doubt to be closer to Thomas. "You work far too much, Vicar Alderman. Why don't you come to the community summer fete that is coming up? It will be held in the village square at the end of the month, and I'm responsible for helping to decorate." When Gigi peeked around the doorframe again, Miss Patridge's eyes shone. "After dinner alfresco , they will have dancing. I would very much enjoy sharing a set with you."

"I see."

As Gigi hid once more, she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle rising in her throat. Yes, the woman was quite desperate.

"And if you attend the fete, you and I can come to know each other better, for I care about your congregation as much as you do." Fabric rustled again. Perhaps she'd reached out to touch his hand or arm. "You have been quite successful as a vicar and your flock continues to grow. Surely you will need a helpmeet soon."

Gigi's lower jaw hung open. Cheeky woman!

"That part of my life is not up for further discussion." Though the answer was non-committal, there was a certain hard edge in his voice. "If there is nothing else, I'll again thank you for the cake. I should return to my work."

Of course, Miss Partridge wouldn't be dismissed so easily. "I understand that, Vicar, but you must understand that gossip is moving through the congregation." Fabric rustled, and when Gigi peeked into the parlor, it was to find that the visitor had stood and approached the chair where Thomas had just scrambled to his feet. "Your nieces need a mother, and this place needs a woman's touch."

Thomas frowned. "I think the decorating has gone rather well."

"Perhaps. However, it's a known fact around the congregation that you are quite a sought-after bachelor. Which makes you, and by association the village, the subject of gossip and rumors."

"Why?" He retreated a few steps. "It is not a crime nor a sin to be unmatched. Nor is it a sin to be the youngest son of a viscount."

"True, but your marital status—or lack thereof—might prove too great a temptation, especially since you have employed a governess for the girls, and one who is not unattractive and one who is still fairly young, if only just."

Thomas huffed. "What difference does any of that make?"

"Perhaps it doesn't, but surely you know how small-minded people in villages are. Rumors can damage a budding career in the Church, don't you think? Who knows where you might go from a country vicar."

The woman was trying to manipulate him on the grounds of ambition! Gigi was affronted on his behalf. What a minx! Before she could step into the parlor with a few choice words, Thomas cleared his throat.

"Once more, thank you for coming by and bringing a cake. It was a lovely gesture." His voice growing louder coupled with the tread of footsteps indicated he was drawing near to the door with Miss Patridge trailing him.

With her heartbeat tripping through her veins, Gigi darted across the hall and into the common room while still listening.

"You are quite welcome. I do hope you will attend the fete, Vicar." Warmth and sweetness threaded through Miss Partridge's voice. "The sooner you make a choice, the sooner you enter into an engagement, the more settled everyone will feel. And you can move into the next part of your life."

"Thank you. I shall think over your words and concern. When I choose to court a woman or offer up an engagement, is no one's business except mine."

Then they were in the corridor as Thomas escorted his visitor to the front door.

How bold of Miss Partridge to come here and practically tell him in no uncertain terms if he didn't find someone to wed, rumors would tear his congregation apart! And, of course, she would offer herself up as a good candidate for his wife. Gigi shook her head and bit down on her lower lip. Granted, he was attractive and in good health, and the living he worked at was nothing to sneeze at. Additionally, he was from a titled family, who would no doubt take him in if he decided to leave the Church.

That was large bait, indeed, if one were fishing.

While Thomas was still at the door, Gigi slipped out of the room and returned to the stairs as quietly as she could. All of that might be true, but he shouldn't have to force a courtship or engagement merely to make others feel more comfortable.

And even more concerning, why did she care who was trying to bedevil the vicar?

*

By the time night fell that evening, Gigi couldn't endure the stifling temperatures inside the cottage. She hadn't seen Thomas since tea that afternoon, for he had dinner at the home of one of his parishioners. He'd come home a few hours later but closeted himself into his study.

Perhaps he had paperwork to catch up on.

Once Penny and Lily had drifted off to dreamland, she deemed it safe to sneak away from the cottage. As she left, the carriage-style clock on the mantel in the common room chimed the midnight hour.

Outside, with the nighttime insects buzzing and the nocturnal animal life thrumming all around her, Gigi made her way to the stream that ran along the western side of the property. It was an amazing walk, for she had always been drawn to the night and the moon and stars. The darkness felt comforting, as if someone had put their arms around her and held her in comfort. During the night, her dreams didn't sound silly in those silent hours as they did in the daylight, nor did life seem as hopeless.

What would happen once her father lost his battle with the demons in his brain?

What would happen to the manor if the taxes couldn't be caught up?

What would happen once Thomas truly did take a bride? It was unlikely she would be able to remain in this position, for the cottage wasn't big enough to hold all those people, and any woman in her right mind would demand a young, progressive governess be sacked immediately.

I cannot think about those things right now.

Her mind obliged, but then it stuck on a different topic altogether. What would happen if she found the titled, rich man she'd always dreamed about and then ultimately married? Could she endure a life of having everything being scheduled and well-ordered, of having responsibilities and expectations even if there were enough coin for leisure? A life of predictability?

Do I want such a life where every day is the same and there are no surprises?

The thought left her cold with unease, and she hurried through the darkness as she clasped the handle of the willow basket. Perhaps it didn't matter what her future held, for she would meet those challenges when they came. Unfortunately, she was growing older and was nearly on the shelf, and at times that didn't sit well.

But what else was there to do? For now, she was a governess. God only knew what she would be in six months.

And when would this heat break? It would drive her mad before too long. At least bathing in the stream would cool her skin, and the light from the full moon would provide another way to bathe. There was something both eerie and healing about the moon's glow set against the midnight-velvet sky strewn with stars. Finally having time to herself and a few moments of silence was much like what heaven would probably feel like.

At the stream, a sigh escaped Gigi's throat. The bubbling, gurling sounds of the stream were the gentlest music and immediately soothed her turbulent thoughts. After setting her willow basket on the bank, it took very little time to strip down to her shift, and with the bank strewn with her discarded clothing, she eased her feet into the cool water.

"Goodness but that is quite refreshing." The barely moving water tickled her toes and upper calves. Leaning down, she splashed some of the liquid onto her knees and thighs, and another sigh left her. "It's a shame that swimming isn't an activity proper young ladies can do whenever they want without being shielded from a wandering eye."

It took a few moments to find a spot within the stream that was comfortable yet optimized the most of the slow-flowing water, but eventually she sat on a flat rock and moaned as the cool water encompassed her legs, thighs, buttocks, and her lap. The water didn't quite reach her waist, but she didn't care. A few splashes of the wetness cooled her upper body until the lawn shift clung to her body.

Being one with the outside elements, lifting her face to the moon's shine returned the strength and patience to her that she'd lost over the course of the week. This was the beginning of the second one as a governess, and honestly, she didn't know how other women did it, but she adored those two little girls, and hoped they would come out the other side of this with more manners than how she'd found them.

Once soaking up nature paled, she removed a chipped teacup from the basket and used it to soak her hair, for it had been a while since she'd last washed it. The bar of finely milled French soap imparted the subtle aroma of lilacs as she ran it through her wet tresses. It might be vain and silly, but that bar of soap was one of the things she'd brought from home, and it was a precious commodity besides. It had been something she'd tucked away once her father's financial difficulties had come to light; she'd kept it back to pamper herself at a later date. Perhaps that time was now, and she enjoyed every indulgent second of it.

Bathing her skin was the next task, and by the time she finished, her whole body smelled faintly of lilacs. It was one of the best moments in recent memory, and after she'd rinsed the soap from her person, she carefully wrapped the remainder of the bar in its protective paper and replaced it in the basket. Then she brought forth an ivory-handled comb from a set she'd received as a gift on the occasion of her sixteen birthday, which she'd had to hide in the garden when her father had gathered up things he could quickly sell for coin.

As the rhythmic strokes of the comb's teeth went through her mildly tangled hair—which reached her waist—Gigi's mind once more wandered, along with her fingers. She might be seven and twenty and still an innocent, but she'd learned several years ago that when those strong feelings of longing and restlessness came over her, she could easily bring herself back to calm by exploring her own body. After learning about the carnal side of life that went on between men and women by spying on some of the staff, or listening to whispered conversations from her friends who'd lain with men—for her mother certainly hadn't talked to her about such things, and according to her older sisters, that talk wouldn't come until she was nearly wed—she'd figured out how to evoke the hysteria inside herself as well as how to relieve that tension.

Especially when nothing ever resulted from passionate kissing she indulged in with various men around the village or before that when she'd been fortunate to have a few Seasons in London… before life changed and went in a completely different direction.

A few minutes rubbing her fingers over her hardened nipples had those fires building in her blood; the night was perfect for it, and she gave herself over to the growing madness within. Dear heavens, how she adored those breath-catching sensations as if her whole body would be collected into a whirlwind of desire and heat. Over and over, she teased those taut buds, held her breasts in her hands and squeezed, constantly teasing. Only then did she twist and pluck the nipples to increase the pleasurable feelings. Need fluttered through her lower belly, and she welcomed the familiar longing, but just as she slipped one of her hands beneath the hem of her wet shift and between her splayed thighs, the snap of a twig alerted her to the presence of someone else in the area with her.

Frustrated and a bit annoyed, Gigi glanced about the area. "Who's there?" And who would have the gall to spy on a woman?

Then the shadows separated themselves to coalesce into the form of a man—Thomas. He stepped from the wooded cover, and she sucked in a breath, for he wore breeches and a lawn shirt rolled up to his elbows. Another dried twig broke beneath his boot sole as he came closer.

"I apologize for the intrusion, for I only wished to make certain you were safe."

Shock rolled over her to nearly bury the feelings of bliss she'd nearly had before. "You followed me here?"

"Not exactly, but I was restless, and when I went downstairs to put on the kettle, I noticed the door to your room a tiny bit ajar. Upon further inquiry, you weren't inside, and neither were you downstairs, so I figured you'd gone out…"

"And you followed me." She didn't know whether to be angry or grateful. At least she was no longer alone in the night, but she was at a disadvantage, and he hadn't stopped staring at her since he arrived.

"Perhaps. I, uh, heard a moan and thought you might be in peril…" He cleared his throat, his eyes shining in the moonlight. "Which obviously you are not, so I will leave you to your privacy."

Just when he was about to turn, Gigi slowly stood up from the water. She didn't care that her shift still clung to her form or that her hair fell over her shoulders; if he hadn't wished to spy or find her in a compromising position, he should have left well enough alone. "What if I no longer want to be alone?"

"Ah, I…" To his credit, the vicar did look away… for all of a few seconds. Soon his regard returned, and he roved his gaze up and down her form as if he hadn't seen a woman so scantily clad before. Her nipples tightened once more as if he'd caressed her with his hands.

Would he be open to a bit of scandal? "Cat got your tongue, Thomas?" She made certain her voice was low, slightly smoky. Men seemed to respond to that, and she was feeling far too reckless to try and appear proper; in fact, she wanted excitement and daring… and scandal. "I'd much rather have that tongue employed in other, more creative ways if you are of the same mind."

Was that too blatant of an overture? Made her too wanton?

"Dear God," he whispered, and he came forward another few steps until he stood at the bank of the stream near her discarded clothing. "You tempt me, Gigi, so very much, but I am not that man any longer. Can't be."

"Why not?" Desire circled low in her belly. The attraction that had crackled between them since the first moment they'd met demanded satisfaction. "There is nothing wrong with appreciating the female form."

"But I am a man of the cloth now, a vicar…"

"Who has needs just like every other man in existence," she continued as she slipped a hand down the front of her damp shift, grinning when he followed the gesture with his eyes. "Why can you not set aside the face you show to the public for a little bit and indulge in something merely for you? If you still consider it a sin, can you not ask for forgiveness after the fact?" Wasn't that how it worked when one believed in God's love and forgiveness? "Otherwise, you keep yourself from everything good and lovely in this world."

Thomas struggled. He rubbed a hand along the side of his face. "I'm to hold myself above the rest of the world."

She huffed in frustration. "Kissing a woman, regardless of her state of dress, is not a sin and won't send you to hell. Why must you let fear control you? God isn't going to swoop down from the clouds to smite you dead for appreciating a nearly naked woman in a moment of privacy." More annoyed than she'd anticipated, Gigi removed herself from the stream to join him on the bank. "But fine. Do what you must. It matters not to me; except I'll wager becoming a vicar made you weaker in will than when you were merely a viscount's son with nothing to lose." She met his eyes, so bright and nearly silver in the moonlight, and shrugged. "A pity I didn't know you then, for we could have had much fun together."

It wasn't well done of her to say such things, but she wanted that next kiss, to see how far he would go, and if he could quell the rising desire, the wave of loneliness and need battering her, so be it.

Only this one time, then she'd go back to try her hand at being a proper governess.