Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Ian stomped through the snow on the grounds, buried deep in his thoughts. Lord Mastiff and Lady Gwen were due to arrive in the next few days and the house was a flurry of activity for their arrival.

He had finally conceded defeat and left it in a foul temper, after Mrs. Kittles had disturbed him for the hundredth time to ask questions about the menu Cook had planned, and preparations for the day party in the conservatory for their guests, which he had grudgingly decided to hold in their honor.

I do not like having houseguests or holding parties. I will be glad when they are gone and the house returns to normal… or as normal as it can be, with the new governess in it.

He sighed deeply. At least Lord Mastiff had decided to accompany his daughter on her trip to London, and he wouldn’t have to deal with the lady alone. Lady Gwen was always sidling up to him and batting her eyelashes at him, which was just irritating. At least with her father there, she couldn’t be as blatant about her desire to become the next Duchess of Trenton.

Suddenly, he stopped, gazing into the distance, his heart thumping hard. Lenore and Miss Bomind were outside… and they were having a snowball fight. Their laughter was ringing in the air as they threw the balls at each other, falling into the snow, breathless and rosy cheeked with joy.

His heart contorted. A part of him wanted to march over there and scold Miss Bomind for taking time for such foolishness from his daughter’s lessons, but a bigger part of him was charmed by the sight of the woman and the little girl, both lost in their excitement, enjoying the snow.

I should keep walking. I should go back to the house and leave them alone. I resolved to avoid the governess as much as possible.

He stood there, hesitating, filled with conflict. But then he started walking, heading toward them, drawn as if pulled by a magnet. They were both so engrossed in the game that they didn’t see him approaching.

“Papa!” cried Lenore, turning around, a large snowball in her gloved hand. “Have you come to join in?”

Miss Bomind turned toward him, jumping slightly. She bit her lip, looking a bit sheepish.

“Your Grace,” she said, in a breathless voice, dropping a clumsy curtsy, almost tumbling over in the snow. “Lady Lenore was so eager to play in the fresh snow, and I did not see any harm in it, considering we had almost finished our afternoon lesson.”

“Papa, come and play,” cried Lenore, dropping the ball and rushing over to grab his hand, dragging him through the snow. “It is simply the best fun!”

“Oh, all right,” said Ian, smiling at his daughter, unable to resist her entreaty. Lenore looked so happy—she was literally glowing with joy. “If you insist.”

He scooped up a large ball of snow, hurtling it at his daughter. He made sure he didn’t use too much force, for he didn’t want to knock Lenore down like a skittle. And he knew that snowballs could leave bruises, if they were hurled too hard. He had been on the receiving end during fierce snowball fights when he had been a child.

His daughter jumped sideways, so that the snowball missed her. Instead, it hit Miss Bomind, square in the jaw.

“I do apologize,” he said quickly, his eyes widening with alarm. “Are you hurt…?”

She didn’t reply. He didn’t think she had even heard his question, for she was already bending down, scooping a large ball, and throwing it at him. It hit him in the torso, almost knocking him over, which took him by surprise, considering how tall he was, and how small she was. There wasn’t much force behind her throw though, he had simply been taken unawares.

She laughed, her head tilting back. A breathless, throaty laugh, filled with joy. He couldn’t help laughing, as well. It was as if it was contagious. The next minute, Lenore was giggling, and they were all bent over in mirth, trying to catch their breath.

They kept slinging snowballs at one another, laughing harder, until a maid approached, saying that it was time for Lenore’s afternoon tea. His daughter pouted, but let herself be led away by the maid, without too much fuss. Clearly, snowball fighting had given her an appetite.

He turned to Miss Bomind, still trying to catch his breath. They stared at one another. He felt that familiar rush of attraction toward her, even more intense than usual. She looked so beautiful with her rosy cheeks, breathless from exertion, and snowflakes fluttering around her, falling on her hair and her face.

She looked up at the sky, squinting, holding out a hand, catching some. To his surprise, she walked over to him, holding out one finger, upon which lay a single snowflake, smiling brightly.

“Look,” she gasped, her eyes widening. “Look how beautiful it is.”

He leaned over, examining the snowflake, his heart racing as he caught a whiff of her perfume. “Yes,” he murmured, staring at the flake. “Very beautiful. They never appear exactly the same—they are all slightly different.”

“They are,” she replied, her eyes still focused on the flake, turning her finger around so she could see it better. “I have studied many since I was a girl… and I have never seen two that are the same.”

He stared at her, reaching over, brushing a hand along the eyelashes on her right eye, before he could stop himself. She jumped, her eyes widening, staring at him.

He held out his finger to her. “A flake fell onto your eyelashes,” he said, in a soft voice. “Look.”

Color rose up her neck, suffusing her face. She visibly swallowed, before gaining her composure, peering at the snowflake on the end of his finger. He knew she felt it as intensely as he did—he could tell by the way she reacted to him. Miss Bomind might appear composed, but he knew that beneath that calm lily pond surface, there was raging, primal passion.

The desire intensified as he kept gazing at her. He wanted to push her to the ground and fall on top of her; plunge himself deep inside her, to finally feel what it would be like for his body to connect with hers…

He took a step back, fighting the urge. He should have stayed away from her. He knew it. Even being close to her in such an innocent way was too much for him.

“Perhaps we should return to the house,” he said, in a voice thickened by desire. “It is getting rather cold.”

She murmured assent. They started walking toward the house, not looking at each other. The air between them was so heavy with sexual tension it was like a physical force. He restrained the urge to reach out and grab her hand.

“How is Lenore progressing with her studies?” he asked abruptly, glancing at her sideways.

Miss Bomind sighed. “She tries very hard, Your Grace. But I feel she did not make much progress with her previous governesses, as they never stayed that long.” She gazed at him. “She is a bit behind where she should be for her age.”

Ian felt a flicker of pain. “Damn those governesses,” he muttered, shaking his head. “They were all so incompetent.” He paused. “At least she has a good governess now. For I do believe you have a gift for teaching, Miss Bomind, even if you let your tongue run away with you sometimes. Lenore responds to you in a way she has never responded before.”

She looked pleased. Her cheeks colored again. “Thank you, Your Grace. I am trying my best.” Her mouth twitched. “Even if I do speak my mind more than I should sometimes.”

He laughed. “How are the lessons coming along about the birds?”

Her eyes brightened. “My lady is enjoying the lessons very much,” she said, smiling at him. “And we are still going to visit the robin’s nest every morning.” She hesitated. “The book that you recommended has been invaluable to me.”

They looked at each other, their eyes locking. Ian was remembering the night he had given it to her, and he could tell that she was remembering it, as well. The night when they had almost kissed again. If not for the fact she had turned and suddenly walked away, he wasn’t sure where it would have ended. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to control himself.

I want her like I haven’t wanted any woman since Mary. It is like a fever that has infected my blood. I cannot think of anything but having her.

They kept walking in silence for a while. Ian felt his heart surge. It was nice just walking with her and not speaking. He felt comfortable with her enough that he didn’t feel the need to fill silence with pointless chatter, even as his strong desire for her set him on edge. It was a strange paradox, and he couldn’t quite understand it.

But then, Miss Bomind was a strange paradox, herself. A prim woman, with a calm exterior, which disguised a strong wit, razor sharp mind, and innate sensuality, that she had in all likelihood never explored.

His loins stirred again. It was an irresistible combination.

“I was wondering,” she said suddenly, turning to him, “if Lady Lenore and I could decorate the house for Christmas.” She drew a deep breath. “At least, the main rooms that are used.”

He turned and stared at her, not believing his ears.

And then she has to go and say something that enrages me yet again.

“No,” he barked, glaring at her, rage filling his blood. “I believe I have expressed my feelings about the Christmas season enough that you are well aware where I stand on such a subject, Miss Bomind.”

She frowned. “But…”

“No buts,” he said, barely able to breathe with indignation. “Did I not tell you that you need to mind your place? Did you not listen to me?”

She flushed hard. “Well, if that is your final word on the matter…”

“It is,” he shot back, scowling at her. “Good day, Miss Bomind.”

He stormed off, surging through the snow, his hands balled into fists at his side. He was so enraged he wasn’t even looking where he was going. He just needed to get away from her before he said something he might regret—for he truly did value her work as a governess, and he didn’t want to lose her.

His chest felt tight. Lenore would be devastated as well if she left—he could tell his daughter was growing attached to her. She had been through so many changes, so many governesses. It seemed cruel.

But I cannot let her keep speaking her mind in such a way. She challenges me about everything. I have warned her that she must desist. When will it stop?

Ian stopped walking, trying to catch his breath, gazing back at her. She was still standing where he had left her, gazing up at the sky, basking in snowflakes falling on her again. His heart flipped. Hastily, he turned away, ignoring the hunger for her that even now, as angry as he was with her, just would not abate.