“We are to have snow?” Winifred had asked with excitement.
“My knee pains me enough for it to be true,” he answered.
Winifred had then squealed, which added to the very real headache Althea had developed when she marched back to Ambrose Hall.
“Jackson’s knee is never wrong. We are to have snow,” she called as she ran up the stairs.
“Do you get much snow?” Althea asked Mrs. Wilson.
“Barely a dusting, and easy enough to sweep away,” she assured Althea. “There have been times that it’s been heavy enough that a person couldn’t get from one place to another for a day or two, but that doesn’t happen very often.”
“I suppose we won’t know until tomorrow,” Althea finally said.
She’d then retired to her room and Althea hadn’t left it again. However, she hadn’t gotten rest the remainder of the afternoon, nor the evening, because a maid had continually checked on her.
When she wasn’t being disturbed by a servant, she was bothered by her behavior and what had occurred in the carriage with Lord Melcombe.
She should have never allowed him such liberties, but she’d completely lost her head. Who knows what could have occurred had the driver not returned when he did?
She then spent a fitful night trying to determine what she should do and trying to ignore the need and desire within her body. Lord Melcombe had managed to awaken passion in her and she couldn’t put it back to sleep. She feared that if he kissed her again, or touched any part of her body, she’d give in to every delicious sensation that had come alive yesterday, which she could never allow.
As there was no place else to go, save her mother’s family, Althea would remain until her month obligation to Lord Melcombe was complete and then she’d leave. The girls already knew that it was only for a month anyway, though she hated to disappoint them because Althea believed that they wanted her there. She simply couldn’t risk her heart by remaining a governess in this household.
She’d give her notice today so that Lord Melcombe had ample time to advertise for a new governess, and also make certain that he understood that what had happened in the carriage must never happen again. He was not allowed to even lean in for a kiss, as it would not be returned. She’d also spend the remainder of her time here deciding on where she’d go next.
At least the maids were with the girls now. They were too excited, and it was likely there would be little concentration for their education today. However, what she needed more than anything before she began the day was a strong cup of tea, which was why she was going down to the breakfast room ahead of the girls, and so that she could enjoy a few moments of peace.
Althea looked up just as she rounded the corner at the foot of the stairs and stopped. The door to Lord Melcombe’s chamber stood open as his valet was exiting, and Melcombe stood in the center of the room, next to a chair, wearing nothing but his trousers. The hard planes of his smooth chest robbed her of breath and his flat stomach rippled when he bent forward. A dark curl fell against his forehead and her hand itched to comb it away from his face while the other one wanted to explore the ridges of his abdomen.
Which she most certainly wouldnotdo.
The valet stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him, which was for the best. Althea should have never viewed her employer in such a state of undress.
As soon as the valet moved on and Althea continued down the steps, the door to Lord Melcombe’s chamber slowly opened. It was likely because the latch was still not fixed.
Though she should avert her eyes, Althea did not and slid a glance to the opening as she passed, but encountered Lord Melcombe who was closing the door, but when he looked up, met her eyes and paused.
Her face burned at being caught peeking into his bedchamber and she wished the floor would swallow her whole.
Lord Melcombe didn’t say anything, but the side of his mouth curled into the hint of a smile.
Althea willed her feet to continue to the breakfast room, but they wouldn’t obey. Her body had a mind of its own and when he was halfway to the door, he stopped. “Please, come in, Miss Claywell.”
On their own accord, her feet finally decided to move. But not in the direction of the breakfast room, as they would on any proper young lady, but right into her employer’s bedchamber.
“Yes, Lord Melcombe?”
“Is there anything I can help you with?” His eyes skimmed down her person from head to slipper and Althea’s skin heated as if she had been burned.
“Um . . . I mean . . . no, Lord Melcombe?” Now she was even robbed of speech. Althea dearly wished she could go back to bed and start this day all over again.
“You seemed to have been waiting for something.” He gestured toward the hall.
Her face heated a thousand times hotter than before. Was it possible for a person to combust into flames from embarrassment? “I . . . well, you see . . . I . . . that is . . .”
He took a step forward and Althea was unable to continue speaking. He was so close his breath brushed against her cheek. Then, he kissed her.
His lips were so gentle she about expired on the spot. The sigh came out on its own accord, and he must have taken it as an invitation, for as soon as her lips parted, he plunged. His tongue probed and she touched hers to his.
