Page 20 of A Governess' Forbidden Flame
As he spoke, a flicker of vulnerability flashed in his eyes, a silent plea for her to feel at ease in a place burdened by both history and wicked tongues of theton.
She immediately nodded back with a reassuring smile. “I also value the opportunity I was given to stay here as Anna’s governess. As you could have probably already concluded, I am not easily swayed by hearsay.”
He grinned. “I am glad to hear that.”
“Well then…” She suddenly got up from the sofa, straightening an invisible wrinkle on her gown. “I think I’d best retire. It’s gotten rather late.”
“Of course,” he said, following suit. “I hope I did not bore you with an unwanted history lesson.”
“Oh, not at all.” She shook her head. “I am very grateful to you for showing me all of this.” She smiled, gesturing at the papers lying neatly arranged on a small table before them.
“You are very welcome, Miss Wycliffe,” he said, feeling at a loss for words.
A part of him didn’t want to allow her to leave. He felt too comfortable with her. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that with someone, so familiar and intimate without the need to shy away from her. But he knew that it was the best for her to leave. It really was late.
“Good night, my lord,” she said softly, ready to leave the library.
However, her exit was unexpectedly interrupted by a misstep, and before gravity could claim her, he rushed to her aid once again, reminiscent of the earlier incident during her interview. He wrapped his arms around her waist, preventing her from an impending fall.
Their eyes locked in a moment that felt strangely familiar, harkening back to the evening when books had teetered precariously above her. The touch of her slender body, even through the confines of her gown, made heat explode somewhere deep inside of him.
His heart clenched. He swallowed heavily, feeling his throat growing parched. Desire exploded inside of him as he gazed at her eyes, at her lips so close to him. A single glance at her breasts peering from the corset tightly wound around her waist made his blood boil.
Without thinking, he drew her closer into the vicinity of his chest. This only seemed to make matters worse. Her bodypressed against his sent an onslaught of unimaginable thoughts into his mind, thoughts he had not had about a woman in a very long time. Yet, without saying anything, she was able to awaken them all.
She smiled at him, pressing her hands to his chest for support. Her cheeks flushed as she gazed at him but refused to move. “I’m sorry. I…I’ve always been a little clumsy…”
He smiled back at her, reluctantly letting go of her, still wearing that warm smile.
“Good night, Miss Wycliffe,” he said as she looked hastily down at her feet, then up at him again.
“Yes…good night,” she replied, sounding a little tongue-tied, then disappeared from the library, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
As the library door closed behind Amelia, Sebastian found himself lingering in the quiet space. He leaned against the antique desk, his thoughts a swirl of contemplation. The memory of Amelia’s laughter echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t help but replay the delicate moment when he had caught her, a fleeting connection that defied the barriers of formality. His usually reserved demeanor was momentarily softened by the genuine warmth he had felt in that brief embrace.
He couldn’t understand what she was doing to him. It was as if in her presence, he was discovering forgotten parts of himself, parts he thought had disappeared forever with the passing of his parents and brother.
His gaze wandered to the open pages of an old book on the desk, but his mind was elsewhere. The enchanting presence of the new governess had stirred something within him, a yearning to unravel the mysteries that both the manor and their intertwined fates held. In the stillness of the library, he grappled with a growing desire to know more, a yearning that tugged at the edges of his guarded heart.
***
Amelia was well aware of the common areas of instruction that governesses provided, such as reading and writing, mathematics, languages, drawing and painting, behavior and manners, including, but not limited to, social etiquette, and much more. But that morning, she decided that they would start the day with something simple, something that might light up Anna’s imagination even more.
That was how they found themselves in the dimly lit attic of Ravenscroft Manor, exploring old, forgotten treasures and relics. The air was thick with the scent of age and memories, and cobwebs hung like delicate veils in the corners. Rummagingthrough boxes and trunks of trinkets, their eyes finally fell upon an old harp hidden beneath a dusty sheet.
Anna’s eyes widened with curiosity, and she tugged at the edge of the sheet. “What is this, Miss Wycliffe?”
Amelia approached, her fingers gently brushing away the layers of dust. “It is a harp, my dear. A beautiful and ancient instrument.”
Anna’s face lit up with excitement. “Can we play it?”
Amelia chuckled, overjoyed that their unusual start of the day had already yielded something magical. However, it was obvious that the harp hadn’t been touched in years. “We can certainly try…but first, let’s see if it’s in tune.”
Carefully, they unveiled the harp, revealing its weathered but elegant frame. Amelia plucked a few strings, creating hesitant, melodic sounds that echoed through the attic. The harp, despite its years of neglect, responded with a surprisingly sweet resonance.
Anna clapped her hands with delight. “It’s magic!”
Amelia smiled, enchanted by the discovery herself. “Indeed, it is. Music has a way of bringing forgotten places back to life.”
