What did she know of being a governess?
She’d had one, but that didn’t necessarily qualify her to fulfill such a position.
But that didn’t weigh on her mind nearly as much as knowing that she was now living in Lord Melcombe’s home.
When they’d discussed her duties after supper, he’d spoke only of his nieces and his concerns. Althea had hoped that he might turn the conversation to other topics, but he didn’t. The viscount saw her only as a governess, and employee, nothing more, and it was rather disheartening.
During their tea, he was more informative and less conversational. Was that what came from being in the military for so long? Except, he’d resigned his commission over a year ago. Althea would have wondered if there was any warmth in him at all, except his devotion and worry for his nieces was quite obvious. A gentleman who cared so much did not possess a cold heart.
Nor had he been cold in London, simply quieter and more serious than most. In fact, that was one of the reasons she’d been drawn to him.
Lord Melcombe was a conundrum and Althea wasn’t quite certain what to make of him, or if he ever saw her as more than someone to dance with and now wondered if it had been a mistake to accept the position within his household. Was it even possible to hope that he might see her differently?
Perhaps it was best that she was here because at least her infatuation would either die or bloom, and she wouldn’t be left to wonder about him as she had these past months.
Unable to sleep, despite the comfort of the bed, Althea rose and pulled a wrap about her shoulders and over her nightshift as she wandered to the window. A nearly starless night against the black sky of a new moon shrouded the landscape in darkness and she could see little beyond the light that spilled from the windows below.
She was being a fool. Hadn’t she thought the debutantes silly who believed themselves in love within a sennight of meeting an attentive gentleman? Althea had assumed herself more logical and reasonable, yet she’d yearned for Melcombe and had for months.
He cared only for his nieces.
At least now she knew that her desire for him was one-sided, and she should therefore be able to put it aside. Besides, she had a larger problem—hiding from her uncle. As she’d already decided that Uncle Clarence would never think to look for her here, Althea needed to become an excellent governess so that Lord Melcombe did not sack her.
With those thoughts in mind, she decided to return to bed and try to get some sleep but stopped when she heard the creak of the floorboards outside of her door.
It was too late for the girls to be awake, yet there was more than one person walking outside of her chamber.
Afraid that there was an emergency or concern, she walked to her door and creaked it open to see Lord Melcombe walking away, carrying a child in his arms, and then entering the chamber on the opposite side of the schoolroom. Following him were the other nieces.
This was very odd. Should she follow? Was a child ill?
The other girls continued, whispering goodnight as they entered their chambers and a moment later, Lord Melcombe exited what Althea believed to be the room shared by Winifred, Lila, and Theodora.
She watched as he crossed the schoolroom, coming toward her.
Althea knew that she should return to her room, but instead took the opportunity to study the bone structure of his cheeks and jaw, made harsher by shadows from the lamp he now carried. His steps were confident, his shoulders broad and back straight. A gentleman who was confident and in command.
Her pulse increased and desire pooled in her belly, which she pushed aside and tried to ignore.
She shouldn’t stand in the doorway and watch him. It was not proper, especially since it was her bedchamber door and late in the evening. He’d think her wanton.
Yet, no matter how much Althea willed herself to close the door, her body would not respond, and she continued to watch his approach, and then he noticed her.
Their eyes met, and Althea came aware of her state of undress and pulled the wrap tight at her collar as the heat of embarrassment swept over her face and through her body.
He came closer and looked deeply into her eyes, and Althea nearly forgot to breathe.
“Is all well?” she finally asked when he only stood there looking at her.
“Yes,” he whispered, the tone low. “Winifred wasn’t able to stay awake until midnight.”
“Why were they up so late?” Did they not keep normal hours?
“It’s New Year’s Eve, or it was,” he answered taking her aback. He was happy, friendly, which she hadn’t witnessed before. “Happy New Year, Miss Claywell.”
“And to you, Lord Melcombe.” That didn’t explain why the children were up so late.
The corner of his mouth tipped. “Does your family not wait up for midnight to usher in the new year?”
