Page 32 of The Defiant Governess
Suddenly she felt hot all over. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you milord? Making fun of … of a Miss Nobody who dares to try and exercise her own power of thought!”
“No, I am not,” he replied quietly. “The conversation has been more intelligent and enjoyable than many I have had in my clubs—and that’s a compliment, Miss Langley, in case you are about to bite my head off. But I hope you have learned a lesson.”
“And what is that? For someone who has been hired to give lessons in this house, I have, by your account, an inordinate amount of things to learn myself!” Jane hoped her voice didn’t sound as wobbly as her knees felt.
“First of all, you should learn to count to ten,” he countered. “Then perhaps you would learn not to act without thinking. For at some point it might land you in serious trouble. Have you ever truly considered that?”
Jane bit her lip.
“And furthermore, it is not necessary to insist on doing everything a man does to make your point.”
“Men never get the point,” she shot back.
He cocked his head to one side. “I hadn’t thought of it overly much, but I suppose what you say has merit. Things aren’t fair. However, aside from that, you have acted very foolishly.”
Jane’s chin came up and she opened her mouth to retort.
“Let me finish,” he said.
Much to her own surprise, she closed her mouth and leaned back in her chair.
“Has no one ever told you not to drink spirits with a man, especially when you are alone with him?” he went on. “Who the Devil raised you? Did your father teach you nothing about your own safety, not to speak of propriety? Why, many employers would now have you laying across this table with your skirts up over your head. And there would be nothing—especially in the rather woozy state you are no doubt in—you could do about it!”
Jane’s mouth felt her mouth form an “O” of shock.
“Yes, you should be shocked,” he said roughly.
Jane shrunk even further back in her chair. Why did the dratted man have to be right every time he decided to give her a set-down! Both Thomas and her father had cautioned her on much the same thing, though a bit more delicately.
She should by all rights acknowledge her folly and thank him for his advice, but the brandy had made her reckless. Instead of contrite words, she blurted out “Why don’t you? Have me on the table, that is?”
Saybrook looked at her with a strange expression. “I don’t dally with my help. It would be an egregious abuse of the power I hold over them,” he answered coldly.
Jane felt a tightening in her stomach. She should be relieved, but ….
“Peter is waiting for you,” he added. “Ring for the footman to bring some water to the drawing room. You will feel better when you drink a glass.”
Jane left the room in a whirl of conflicting emotions. She didn’t know whether to be angry or appreciative, insulted or intrigued. Things were not as black and white as she had first supposed with Saybrook. She wished she could understand him—and perhaps herself—better.
Saybrook pushedhis chair back and stretched his legs out in front of him. He swirled the brandy absently as he stared at the massive oak table.What in devil’s name had prompted him to say such an improper thing?She was so interesting to talk to that it was easy to forget she was only a green girl of barely twenty, innocent of the cynical mores of the ton. Sighing, he tooka long sip of his drink. It was perhaps a little wicked of him, but he did enjoy goading Miss Langley to anger—not that it took much! Her sapphire eyes lit up so intensely, her chin jutted out in such a beguiling way. Why, she looked more than just plain, even with her hair pulled back in such a severe, unbecoming way.
He found himself wondering just what her figure was like underneath the shapeless, oversized dresses she wore. Were her breasts as firm and shapely as they sometimes seemed through the coarse material? And was her waist as slim as it appeared in her riding habit? What would her willowy form look like in a ball gown, with her shoulders bared. His eyes strayed back to the table …Ye gods, what was he thinking!
He slammed the glass down and stalked out of the room.
Another rainy day.Jane watched the drops trace long, squiggly patterns down the glass panes as she sat at the piano. She had felt strangely out of sorts since the previous evening. Perhaps it was the result of the brandy, but she didn’t think so. It was just as well that Peter had run off to the stables to help the under groom polish tack, leaving her with a free hour.
She thumbed restlessly through a sheaf of music but nothing appealed to her. Finally she settled on a waltz. Perhaps its lilting melody would serve to lift her spirits. Her fingers started slowly, grudgingly, picking up the tempo as she went along. Indeed, it was hard to remain blue-deviled while playing such a piece.
So caught up was she in the music that she was unaware of Saybrook’s presence until he leaned casually over the piano, his elbows resting on the polished wood. Her fingers came to a stop. He reached down and began playing where she had left off.
“Have you ever waltzed?” he asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“What do you think, my lord,” she answered evasively. “Though it must be rather fun.” She thought longingly of the few dances she had been allowed to have after being approved by the Patronesses at Almack’s.
“So it is.” He kept playing. “Would you care to try?”
“Good Heavens, of course not. It wouldn’t be proper!”
