Page 37 of The Defiant Governess
“Oh, look!” cried Peter, his eyes following a colorful monarch butterfly. He put aside his nearly empty plate and dashed after it.
“You have worked miracles,” said Saybrook softly, his eyes still following the boy. “He has learned to be happy–clearly you are an exemplary teacher.”
“Happiness is not something you can teach, milord. It is a gift. And it is you who have given it to him.”
He looked startled. “Me?”
“Oh, yes.” She knew it would be prudent to stop there, but the wine had made her even bolder than normal. “You have given him love.” A pause. “Of course it has been a gift to yourself as well.”
“Indeed?”
“Once in awhile, you actually allow yourself to be happy, too.”
His face changed. The faint lines on either side of his mouth hardened. “What makes you think I am unhappy?”
Jane considered the question. “At first, I believed you were as cold and unfeeling as you wish everyone to think,” she answered frankly. “But now I know you are not. I see you with Peter.” The wine must truly have loosened her tongue for she went on. “I wonder why it is that you won’t allow yourself to be ...”
“You are being impertinent again, Miss Langley.” He cut her off, not unkindly, but firmly.
She was silent for a few moments, but some impulse spurred her to continue. “I’ve been watching you with Peter. You truly like children. Don’t you think of setting up your own nursery? You would be an excellent father.”
Saybrook stared at her in surprise.
“Lud, please forgive me, sir.” Jane realized with a guilty start that she had gone too far. “I—I should never have said such a thing, I don’t know why I cannot curb my tongue.”
Saybrook’s expression turned to one of amusement. “It is of no matter. I find that I am getting quite used to it. But I assure you, I have no intention of marrying.” He looked away. “Ever.”
Her curiosity was piqued. “Why is that? Don’t you at least have a duty ...”
”Duty be hanged,” he muttered. “I can’t imagine myself leg-shackled to any lady of my acquaintance. Mamas are constantly thrusting their chits under my nose. There are those who simper and say what they imagine you want to hear. And then there are those whose faces light up like a banker’s on hearing your rank and fortune. Any of them will do whatever it takes—lies or deception—to achieve their goal.”
His jaw clenched for an instant. “You have no idea what aristocratic ladies are like. Marriage? I think not. I prefer female company that is … less demanding.” Saybrook took a deep breath.” You, on the other hand, are different and to be admired, Miss Langley. You, at least, are deucedly honest. You are not capable of deceit.”
Jane suddenly felt hollow inside. She hoped that her voice didn’t betray the guilt she felt as she answered him.
“It seems a very cynical outlook, sir,” she managed to stammer.
“Do I shock you? If you had experience in Society, you might understand what I mean. It is not a pleasant thing to be looked at like ...” He paused, as if searching for words.
“Like a stallion at Tattersall’s?” she suggested.
He gave a chuckle. “Well put.”
Jane thought of her own experiences in Town. “I think I do understand what you are saying sir. You are a romantic at heart. You wish to be loved for yourself, not for your money or your title.”
His face became stony. “No, Miss Langley, you are quite wrong. I am no romantic,” he said. “I do not wish to be loved, or to love. I wish to be left alone.”
She wondered what had caused such bitterness, but before she could say anything else, Peter came running back.
“It was too quick,” he announced, flopping down next to Jane. She put her arm around his shoulders and he snuggled closer, resting his head on her lap. Smiling, she made to brush the dark hair out of his eyes … the same sea-green eyes as?—
A sudden realization swept over her.The same eyes. The same straight nose and chiseled cheekbones.The hands, so different in size yet so similar in shape and grace of movement.
She had seen a painting of the marquess’s sister and her husband in the conservatory but it had never really registered until then. They were both blond, with hazel eyes, and the Baron was rather short and stocky.Could it be that …
Out of the blue, Peter spoke up. With childlike directness he asked,” Why do you always wear your hair in such a tight bun?”
“Because it is proper for a governess.”
