“Let’s enjoy some red wine then.”
Agreeing with his decision, she waited for him to place the order, then leaned forward and asked, “Do you always help your servants with their tasks?”
Taken aback by the question, Alistair met her curious gaze. “I must confess that I find your question surprising.”
She tilted her head. “Why?”
“Because of what it implies.”
Blushing, she averted her gaze, and for a second he was sure she would shirk from the topic, but then she said, “You know I was watching you, my lord. Denying it seems rather silly.”
“I suppose it does.” He didn’t think such a factor would deter most young ladies from pretending they’d been admiring the scenery instead. There was no doubt in his mind they would rather lie than admit to spying on him. But not Miss Potter. She was different in ways he not only liked but admired. “In answer to your question, I don’t enjoy idleness. If I can lend a hand, I do. Especially when it comes to my horses.”
Hesitantly, she raised her gaze to his once more. “I find that commendable.”
He wasn’t sure why that pleased him as much as it did, but he felt his chest puff out a bit in response. “Thank you, Miss Potter.”
The wine arrived and he filled their glasses, then clinked his with hers and took a sip. Watching as she set the rim to her lips, he held his breath while she drank. The tendons in her throat flexed to accommodate the liquid. It was a mesmerizing sight from which he could scarcely look away. And yet he did precisely that before she became aware ofhisperusal for a change. He would have to get his growing desire for her under control somehow. Especially since he’d only met her that morning. It really didn’t do for him react so strongly, least of all when he would spend seven more days in her company. If his attraction toward her continued to grow at a constant rate, he’d turn into a lust-crazed lothario before they reached Whitehaven, and then where would they be?
So he forced himself to think of something to talk about – something to take his mind off her silky hair, her dazzling eyes, and her kissable lips. Christ, he was even beginning to find her grey, long-sleeved dress with its high collar alluring. It made him wonder what she might look like beneath.
Feeling himself respond to her closeness once more, he took another sip of his wine. “Have you always wanted to be a governess?” he asked.
She gave him a peculiar look. “I don’t think it’s the sort of position any woman aspires toward. It certainly wasn’t for me.”
“So you would rather do something else?”
Her eyes widened a fraction, and she hastily said, “You mustn’t misunderstand me, my lord. I am extremely happy your niece deemed me worthy of being in her employ, and I do look forward to teaching her children. But it is also a job I’ve been forced to take out of necessity, not one I dreamt of having when I was a girl.”
“What did you dream of then?” He knew they would delve into personal territory if she answered his question, but he could not help himself from asking it. She intrigued him in ways no one had ever intrigued him before, perhaps because it surprised him that a woman in possession of Miss Potter’s beauty and grace had not yet married. He would have to inquire about her reasons for that as well if he wanted to sate his curiosity completely.
A soft smile teased her lips in a way that lent a nostalgic element to her expression. “Of traveling the world and exploring new and wonderful places. I dreamt of writing a book and getting it published and even of studying literature at university.”
“You are aware that women do not attend university?”
Nodding, she said, “These were my dreams, and in my dreams, anything was possible, even that.”
“What sort of book did you think of writing?” He chose to focus on the least impossible dream.
“An adventure novel in which a young woman travels the world exploring new and wonderful places.”
He grinned, as did she. “You would live out the life denied you by writing about it.”
“In a sense.”
The food arrived, and he waited until the serving girl had left them alone once more before saying, “If you’d married, you might have had the chance to travel abroad. I have no doubt your husband would have accommodated such a wish.”
“Perhaps.” A distinct touch of sadness clung to her voice. “But after Mama passed, marriage became impossible.”
“Why?” He simply had to know.
But rather than answer, she shook her head and focused her attention on cutting her food. “Might we talk about something else? I find this subject incredibly depressing.”
And personal.
She didn’t have to say he’d dug too deep. That much was implied in the way she spoke and the stiffness of her comportment. “Of course.” He tried to hide his disappointment beneath a casual tone. “I could tell you about Whitehaven instead so you know what to expect. Geoffrey, Henry, and Jack are wonderful children, but they are boys, so getting into mischief is an inevitability for them.”
“I hope I can be the disciplinarian they need me to be,” she said as she stuck a piece of chicken in her mouth. “So they won’t run completely wild.”
