Page 30 of The Iron Duke's Flaming Christmas
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. Hisheart flipped. Hastily, he turned away, ignoring the hunger for her that even now, as angry as he was with her, just would not abate.
Chapter 16
Ian walked quickly down the hallway, rubbing his neck ruefully. He had barely slept a wink the past two nights. His mind and body had been warring with each other—his mind insisting that he must dismiss Miss Bomind for her continual insolence and insistence on challenging him, but his body hungering for her with a ferocity that shocked him.
Employees should not talk to their masters in such a way. My father would have dismissed her long ago. But on the other hand, she has worked wonders with Lenore, who is becoming attached to her, as well…
Suddenly, he froze, hearing the sound of tinkling laughter emanating from the drawing room. He frowned, approaching the room slowly.
His jaw dropped. Miss Bomind and Lenore were there… and they were in the process of hanging Christmas greenery around the room—ivy, holly, and mistletoe. The governess had gone ahead and completely ignored his command that she was not to do it.
A deep rage entered his heart. He was just about to stomp in there and shout at her to tear it all down, when abruptly, he hesitated, gazing at his daughter.
Lenore was dancing with abandon around the room, strands of ivy in her hands, twirling them above her head. His daughter’s face was flushed with joy, and her eyes were shining so brightly, that his heart contracted violently. Tears sprung into his eyes.
How happy she looks. Mary would have been filled with joy to see our daughter like this. She would have danced with her… she would have been decorating this room alongside her.
He blinked rapidly, trying to fight back the tears, trying to contain the unexpected emotion. Strangely, thinking about Mary wasn’t filling him with grief as it normally did; or rather, it wasn’t consuming him. He just saw Lenore, a little girl, filled with happiness, as she decorated the room for Christmas. A simple, heartfelt joy.
He balked. How could he deny her this joy? How could he march into the room and shout and tell them to tear it down? Her little face would crumple. The joy would drain away. And for what? Why was he hanging onto this pointless hatred so strongly?
Mary would tell you that you must let it go. She would tell you that Lenore’s happiness is more important than anything in this world.
He hesitated in the doorway, emotion sweeping over him, so strongly, he could barely contain it. It was an epiphany. He wouldn’t be surprised if a ray of light suddenly burst through the ceiling.
Suddenly, Lenore saw him in the doorway. She danced over to him, still twirling the ivy above her head. When she got to him, she flung the ivy onto the floor, hugging him tightly.
“Papa!” she cried, gazing up at him, her eyes still shining brightly. “Will you help me hang the ivy?”
His heart somersaulted. Slowly, he reached down, stroking her hair. It was so soft, like touching the finest silk.
His eyes flickered to Miss Bomind. She appeared frozen to the spot, her mouth hanging open, looking at him with fear in her eyes.
He looked at Lenore again. “Yes…I will help you hang the ivy, little one.”
Lenore looked overjoyed, hugging him tighter, squealing. He kept stroking her hair, overcome with emotion, before extracting himself, taking her hand. They picked up the ivy.
“Where shall we put it?” he asked. “I think it would look good above the windows. What do you think?”
Lenore clapped her hands. “Yes, Papa! Let us put it above the windows!”
They walked toward the windows. He glanced back at Miss Bomind, who was still gaping in shock.
“You had better keep working, Miss Bomind,” he said, with a half-smile. “There is no time to tarry.”
Their eyes met and held. He felt a pull so strong it was like a rope had just been tied around his heart and yanked from his chest. His loins tightened.
I cannot fight it any longer. I must have her. To hell with the consequences.
With difficulty, he tore his eyes away from her, turning back to his daughter, his heart thumping hard. He knew he had just surrendered to his lust for the governess… just as he had surrendered to decorating the house for Christmas. Now, it was only a matter of time.
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