Page 9 of A Governess' Forbidden Flame
She shook her head. “It is I who should apologize for being so clumsy,” she explained, glancing at the books on the floor. “I swear I am usually not this careless.”
“Some circumstances are—” he started, but she interrupted him by finishing his sentence.
“…beyond our control,” she smiled.
“Exactly,” he couldn’t help but smile back.
Recovering from this momentary lapse of common sense, he slowly and carefully retrieved the copy ofWhispers of Eternityfrom the scattered books on the floor. He extended it toward Amelia, his fingers brushing against hers as he passed the rare volume into her delicate grasp.
Sebastian, though adept at maintaining a composed exterior, felt a subtle tremor beneath the surface. The unexpected intimacy lingered in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment of the complexities that wove themselves into the fabric of their interactions. As he handed her the book, his gray eyes briefly met hers, carrying a silent understanding that hinted at the charged undercurrents of their shared narrative.
His mind betrayed him once more, offering a glimpse of what her decolletage might look like. Would it be the color ofporcelain? Would it glisten like moonlight in the darkest of nights? He blinked the treacherous thoughts heavily, reminding himself of the barrier that was between them. But the mere fact that she would be sleeping under the same roof as him titillated him beyond comprehension.
“Thank you,” she said for what he felt was the millionth time this evening. Yet, he could listen to her voice all night long.
“Please, follow me,” he said, signaling a return to formality, out of which he was not allowed to stray ever again. Only that was easier said than done.
Walking down the main staircase, Charlotte, a servant in the earl’s employ, appeared from one of the random corridors of Ravenscroft Manor. The young woman curtsied respectfully before them both.
“Ye called, me lord?” Charlotte spoke with a thick accent, although it only seemed to make her more endearing.
“Yes,” he said with a nod, turning his attention back to Amelia. “Please, follow Charlotte. She will see to your comfort for the night and make sure your dinner is sent to you. We shall reconvene for breakfast in the morning to discuss matters further,” he informed her with a measured tone, his eyes briefly meeting Amelia’s.
“Thank you, my lord,” Amelia repeated yet again, only now he could hear the exhaustion in her voice. “I am beyond grateful for…everything.”
“Let’s first see if there is a reason to be grateful, Miss Wycliffe.” He nodded, immediately biting his tongue upon saying as much.
It was far too harsh, but now that the words had left the confines of his mind, it was impossible to take them back.
“I bid you good night,” he said, turning around and marching back to his study.
He was cursing himself silently, wondering why he would speak in such a manner to her. Then, he thought it might be for the best. There should be a distance between them. They had already broken too many rules. After all, they were an earl and a governess. Their daily paths ought to merge only in so far as to discuss Anne’s progress. Nothing else.
He closed the door to his study, but that did little to settle his restless mind. He admired Amelia’s credentials, acknowledging her passion for education and the genuine love she held for her work. The governess’s experiences spoke volumes about her dedication and capability. Yet, beneath the surface of professional consideration, a different undercurrent stirred.
Sebastian pondered the unexpected attraction that had surfaced. He, known for his guarded demeanor and careful control, felt a compelling force drawing him toward Amelia. The thrill of her proximity, the spark he felt in their brief touch—it left an indelible mark on his consciousness.
He easily acknowledged the danger inherent in such allure. His responsibilities, the reputation of Ravenscroft Manor, and the secrets that echoed within its walls were not to be compromised. The tendrils of desire, however, seemed to defy the boundaries he had meticulously set.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. For Amelia, it might be a sleepless night because she was in a new and unfamiliar place. For him, it would be sleepless for a whole different reason.
Chapter 6
Amelia had no idea when exactly she fell asleep. But she knew that when she opened her eyes, rest did not grace her with its presence. As morning light filtered through the curtains, gently waking Amelia from her slumber, the soft creak of opening doors disrupted the tranquil atmosphere of her chamber.
In swift response, she opened her eyes and sprang from the bed, the covers trailing behind her. The chamber, bathed in the early morning glow, was no longer serene, but rather disrupted by this sudden and unexpected noise.
With hazel eyes wide and senses now attuned to the daylight, Amelia stood poised, waiting for the source of the disturbance. The door, slowly revealing its secret, hinted at the unfolding mysteries of Ravenscroft Manor in the quietude of the morning. The air, now tinged with the soft hues of dawn, carried a sense of anticipation, as if the new day held promises and revelations yet to be unveiled.
The doors opened a little more with each passing moment, and Amelia immediately remembered all the curses and gossip regarding Ravenscroft Manor. Ghosts, witches, goblins…they all emerged out of the darkest depths of Amelia’s unconscious mind, ready to haunt her even in broad daylight.
“Who’s there?” she asked with a trembling voice that cut through the silence, breaking the spell of the mysterious entrance.
The door stopped. Moments felt like hours, and hours felt like years as Amelia waited, her heart racing with trepidation. Just as a sense of foreboding reached its peak, a small figure appeared in the doorway.
“Anna?”
Relief washed over Amelia as she recognized the source of the intrusion. The early morning shadows played on the young girl’s face as she stood in the doorway, a moment frozen in the delicate balance between mystery and familiarity within the walls of Ravenscroft Manor.
