Chapter 10

Chapter 10

That evening, Ian sipped a brandy in his study, gazing at the flickering flames of the fire, as the wind howled outside. He shifted in the comfortable upholstered armchair, feeling unbearably restless, as if he couldn’t stand being in his own skin, and needed to jump out of it.

It is Miss Bomind’s fault, marching in here with her complaints. Who the deuce does she think she is? How dare she challenge my decision making regarding my own daughter?

He put down the brandy, getting up, and leaving the room. He wandered down the long hallway, not even sure where he was heading. It was cold in the hallway—winter had arrived, with a vengeance, and aside from the rooms where fires were lit, it was always freezing in the house. It was so large.

It is too large. There is only me and Lenore rattling around it, along with all the servants, of course. But they are only here to serve us. It isn’t their home. It seems ridiculous having an army of servants to tend one man and a child.

His heart contorted. Thinking about the servants inevitably led to thoughts of the governess again. He bristled. She had gotten beneath his skin, in more ways than one. On the one hand, she infuriated him, but on the other hand, he was feeling more alive than he had in a very long time. As if he were slowly thawing after being on ice.

It doesn’t matter how she makes you feel. She is a governess, not a lady. And you can never bridge that gap. Besides, you don’t want to. You never want to be so close to a woman again. Not after what happened to Mary.

He stopped, hesitating, outside the library, rubbing his neck. Perhaps a book would settle him. He could read until he felt tired. It might banish the disturbing thoughts and feelings.

He walked into the room, then stopped, his heart pounding. Miss Bomind was there, standing on a footstool, reaching for a book. She was holding a candle in her hand. The flame flickered, casting a small pool of light onto her.

He hesitated, his heart thumping harder. She hadn’t seen him yet—he could turn around and walk out of the room. It was what he should do. He had resolved to avoid her as much as possible.

But then, almost against his will, he kept walking toward her, making sure that his footsteps were loud enough to be heard. He didn’t want to startle her so badly she fell off the stool.

She turned, seeing him. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Carefully, she got off the stool, holding the candle high. He saw now she held a book in the other hand. She placed the candle on a table, then turned back to him.

“Miss Bomind,” he murmured, his eyes sweeping over her. “This is unexpected.”

“Your Grace.” She swept into a curtsy, looking uncertain. More uncertain than he had ever seen her look before. “I… I do apologize for being here so late.” She held up the book in her hand. “I was trying to find some books to aid my teaching for tomorrow’s lessons with Lady Lenore.”

“I see,” he replied, taking a step closer. He held out his hand. “May I look at the book?”

She looked startled, but complied, handing him the book. He looked at the title, frowning. It was called A New Way forward with Arithmetic, by a professor on the subject, who was quite controversial. He actually had no idea how the book had managed to make its way onto a shelf in his library.

“I have heard of this book before,” said Miss Bomind, smiling hesitantly. “Apparently, it offers a very clear and concise way to teach arithmetic that children respond to very well.” She paused, gazing at him. “I thought it worth looking at, as I have discerned that Lady Lenore is not fond of the subject…”

“Are you insinuating that my daughter has no aptitude for numbers?” He looked up from his perusal of the book, staring at her sharply. “Are you saying that she is a dunce, Miss Bomind?”

“I am not saying any such thing,” she retorted, her eyes glittering. “I am merely saying that she lacks confidence with it, which is quite common.” She frowned. “Why would you object to me using a different method to how the subject is usually taught if it reaps results?”

“Because I have heard of this fellow,” he replied, in a crisp voice, handing the book back to her. “His method is unconventional. Most of the leading minds on the subject disapprove of his approach. I have no idea how this book is in this library. I certainly did not approve its purchase.”

She looked down at the book, then back at him, her frown deepening. “Do you always try to oversee each and every book purchase for this library?”

He was momentarily taken aback. “Of course,” he replied eventually. “It is my library, Miss Bomind. Why would I want books that I have no interest in reading on the shelves? Books that I do not approve of?”

“Because it is good to read outside of your sphere of comfort, Your Grace,” she replied, her eyes snapping again. “I believe that it keeps one open minded. At the very least, you will become better acquainted with the theories that are presented, so you can argue against them when needed.” She paused. “Or they could persuade you to change your mind on the subject entirely.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Well said, Miss Bomind. You should have been a barrister. Do you always argue your case so eloquently?”

Her eyes widened. “I do like spirited debates,” she said, her cheeks reddening. “But alas, the law of the land will never allow me to go into such a profession, Your Grace. Even if I was a man and had the means to study at university, which I do not.”

His eyes flickered over her, taking in her slender figure in a plain, yet elegant, gray dress, the swan like sweep of her neck, the glossy chestnut hair piled high upon her head, with small braids interwoven in the bun. The new hairstyle he had admired today, which had made her uncomfortable.

“Clearly, you are not a man,” he said, in a low, husky voice, his eyes lingering on her. “And looking at you now, I am very grateful for that.”

Her jaw dropped and her color deepened. She took a step back, colliding with the footstool behind her, the book slipping from her hand and landing in a dull thud on the floor.

They both reached for it at the same time, colliding with each other. She was so startled by the contact that she leapt back, like a scalded cat, hitting the footstool again and losing her balance.

He reached out, grabbing her by the waist, to steady her. They stood there, looking at each other. He was conscious of how tiny her waist was. And then, he became conscious of the heat that was rising in his chest and over his entire body, his blood thickening, his senses sharpening.

He had been trying to avoid her. He knew that the attraction between them was dangerous. But now… now, he could no more avoid it than he could avoid breathing. It seemed as inevitable as the sun rising in the east and the tide turning in the ocean.

Slowly, he pulled her closer, breathing in the scent of her. She wore rose scented perfume. The aroma of a garden on a hot summer’s day.

He bent his head, claiming her lips. The first time he had kissed a woman in a very long time. He hadn’t been entirely chaste since Mary’s passing, but those brief affairs had been conducted discreetly, far away from Trenton House. They had been calculated, in a mechanical way, to slake certain needs, to keep him functioning.

He knew as soon as his lips touched hers that this was different. Very different. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, losing himself entirely within it. The fight against this happening was gone for the moment. In a haze of thickening desire, he couldn’t even remember why he had been fighting it at all.

***

Selene knew she should pull away from him. Her heart was hammering so violently it felt like it was going to jump out of her chest. She couldn’t breathe.

But his hands were tight around her waist, anchoring her to the spot. His eyes darkened even further, so black, she couldn’t even discern the pupils any longer. Her mouth went dry and a deep, yearning pull of desire fell through her as he bent his head, taking her lips with his own.

My first kiss. My very first kiss. And it is the Iron Duke who is kissing me!

Stunned, she tried to push him away, then stopped as the kiss deepened, her hands clawing at his shirt, pulling him closer. His grip tightened on her waist as he opened her mouth, hungrily devouring her.

She was tingling all through her body. She had never felt more alive than in this moment with him. She felt like she had never been alive before at all.

She clung to him, as to a lifeboat, as sensation racked her body, breathing in the smell of him. She had never known that arousal like this existed. She had never known that a kiss could be like that, so fierce, so full of passion, and yet, inexplicably tender, as well.

What are you doing? What are you doing?

The voice of warning was loud in her head. Desperately, still in a haze, she pushed him away, her chest rising and falling. She was trembling like a leaf as they gazed at one another. He looked as stunned by what had just happened between them as she felt.

Confusion swept over her. One minute, they had been arguing, as always, and the next… well, she had no idea. It had all happened so quickly.

“You had no right,” she stammered, shaking her head. “You had no right to kiss me like that!”

He was panting, his black eyes glittering. He frowned.

“Neither did you,” he whispered.

Then he turned and marched out of the room, without a backward glance.

Selene sunk to the floor, grabbing the fallen book. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped it again. She sighed deeply, not bothering to move. She no longer cared if anyone walked into this room and saw her sitting on the floor like a madwoman, clutching a book to her chest.

Her mind was spinning and her heart hit the ground, as well. Fear overtook her at her foolishness. Would she lose her position at Trenton House? Was he going to fire her… or even worse, expect that she would fall into his bed, and use her abominably?

She had heard about masters expecting such things from their employees. They often took liberties. It was whispered about among female servants. They knew to watch their step around certain gentlemen, who had wandering hands, and demanded much more.

Selene could barely breathe. Her feelings had overwhelmed her. And now, she must pay a penalty for it. But what was it going to be?