“It’s not as if he was upset. Besides, he knows he cannot compete with me.”
“Neither can the sun, yet still does it shine.”
The earl’s face darkened. “It isn’t a matter of vanity; it is a matter of necessity. As much as I hate to admit it, Miss Thraxton, I am a desperate man. You are the best governess in London. I want you and no one else.”
He stood, tall and broad-shouldered, filling the tiny parlor until it looked like a closet. And Anna had to admit that it was mollifying to hear the words “the best” coming from such discriminating lips.
Actually, now that Anna looked, the earl possessed a very attractive mouth—it was firm and masculine. And she already knew how those lips felt against hers. The memory sent a hot tingle through her.
Greyley sighed. “Look, Thraxton, I didn’t mean to set your back up in my dealings with Allencott. If you’re worried that he might noise it about that you are untrustworthy because you’re reneging on your agreement, don’t bother. As compensation for his loss, I invited him to hunt at Greyley this fall. He’s always wanted to come, but frankly, I’ve never been able to stand his company. He very happily agreed to the exchange.”
Anna stiffened. “You traded me for a week of hunting?”
“I wouldn’t say it like that.”
“How would you say it?”
He shifted, the floor beneath his feet creaking. “It doesn’t matter how I’d say it—I was attempting to protect your interests and—”
“I don’t need your protection. Not now, not ever.”
Anthony almost winced at the frigid tones that fell from Thraxton’s lips. Crystalline clear, each word clinked onto his ears like icicles. Perhaps he had overstepped his bounds a bit, though it hadn’t seemed like it at the time.
Indeed, Thraxton should have been thanking him, not regarding him as if he were some sort of aberration to humanity. But then she’d always had a tendency to see the worst in everything he did, he decided. It was just like her to make a huge fuss over nothing. He’d conveniently forgotten that part of her personality in his zeal to obtain her services. “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”
A proper woman would have taken offense, but not Thraxton. She curtsied. “Thank you, kind sir.”
“That wasn’t a compliment,” he answered bluntly. She was unlike any woman he knew, full of health and vigor. From her height to her incredible coloring, there was nothing ladylike about her. Take her gown, for instance. Even though the cut of the garment was modest—almost severe in detail—on Anna Thraxton it became a siren’s gown. The thin material draped over her perfect figure, molding to the contours of her full, round breasts, and clinging in a most disconcerting way to her slender waist and hips. Even the color, a soft innocuous blue, did nothing to blend her into her surroundings. Instead, the color contrasted with the creamy hues of her skin and enhanced the rich auburn of her hair. Anthony found himself comparing her coloring to Charlotte’s gentle prettiness and decided that surely such vivid looks might tire a man. Still…it was hard to find fault with Thraxton’s looks. If it weren’t for her nose, she would be stunningly beautiful.
Anthony tried to focus on that proud nose, but his gaze kept drifting down to her mouth where her lovely lips parted in a cool smile, revealing even white teeth.
“Lord Greyley, you may be able to waltz into half the households in London and get your way with such high-handed tactics, but this isn’t one of them. You have reminded me what a fool I would be to even attempt to work for you. I have changed my mind—you will have to find someone else to serve as governess to your wards.” She turned and walked to the door.
Just as her hand closed over the knob, he heard himself say, “One thousand pounds.”
She froze, then turned and looked at him with raised brows. “Each quarter?”
“Yes, damn it,” he growled. “And that’s my final offer.”
Heaven help him, but he’d lost his mind. It was a fortune. No, it was more than a fortune. But he would be damned if he would lose her now. He needed her. No, he silently corrected himself—the children needed her.
Her fingers loosened on the doorknob and Anthony could see that she was tempted. He added softly, “A thousand pounds each quarter for a year. Think of what you could do with such a sum.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, she took her hand from the door. “I could buy a nice, snug house in the country and keep it warm day and night for Grandpapa.” Her fingers brushed her skirts in a distracted way and she said softly, as if musing aloud, “I could purchase some new gowns, too.”
“More than a few,” he answered, a little surprised she even cared about such fripperies. Still, he would use whatever appealed to her. “Shall I send a carriage in the morning?”
After a long moment, she nodded. “Very well.”
Anthony’s shoulders relaxed, and he suddenly realized that he’d been holding his breath. “Excellent. I’ll—”
“I have other requirements. With so many children, I will need an assistant.”
“That seems reasonable.”
“A well-lit nursery and plenty of funds for the purchase of whatever materials I think necessary.”
“Anything else?”
“I assume the children already have ponies of their own?”
“Of course,” he replied, offended. They were in his care, after all. She should have known he would see to the necessities, if not more.
“Then that should do.” She gestured toward the door. “If you don’t mind, I have a lot of preparations to see to before tomorrow.”
He nodded, but made no move to leave. Instead he watched her, his gaze appraising her from head to toe.
Thraxton crossed her arms over her breasts. “What?”
“It just dawned on me that my sister is likely to hear that I’ve hired you to serve as governess.”
“Not from me. I do not often correspond with Sara.” Of all the losses Anna had suffered on giving up her station, the loss of Sara had been the most bitter. Oh, Sara refused to admit that anything had changed, which was why Anna was so determined not to become a burden. She still wrote, but much less frequently, and she made it a point not to be available whenever Sara was in town.
Greyley shrugged. “Be that as it may, it would be improper of me to forget what is due your station.”
Her silver eyes hardened. “I’m well aware of my station, Lord Greyley.”
“So am I. You are my sister’s friend and a Thraxton. Therefore, you might want to bring a few gowns with you.” He waved his hand vaguely. “For dinner and such.”
Anna’s chest tightened. It was the one thing she did not want to happen. She had learned the hard way what happened when she forgot the responsibilities due to someone in her position. “Lord Greyley, while I appreciate your kindness, I am not arriving at your house as a guest. I am coming as a paid employee, and I will thank you to remember that.”
His gaze glinted darkly. “Afraid I’ll attempt to kiss you again?”
“Of course not,” she said, her cheeks heating. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You don’t know what I would dare. And where you are concerned, it appears that I don’t either.” He turned to the door. “I will leave you to make your arrangements. The carriage will be here in the morning.”
Moments later, the earl’s carriage could be heard rumbling down the street. Anna reached blindly for the arm of the nearest chair and sank into the lumpy seat.
Sweet heavens, what had she agreed to? For the next three or four months or longer, she would be in close proximity to the one man in all England who had the ability to make her forget herself and her station. It was madness. Especially after…She stood, pushing the unwanted memories away. There was no use in reliving the past. It could not be undone.
Whatever she did, she would be damned if she’d let her unruly feelings get in the way of plain, ordinary common sense. Propriety must be addressed on all occasions, whi
ch left no room for any other emotion, not even simple friendship. Even that, she knew, could be fatal.
Meanwhile, she had plenty to keep her occupied. If she was successful in this venture, she stood to make a nice profit, one that she and Grandpapa desperately needed, and her reputation as a governess would indeed be set. All she had to do was calm the children and bring some order to Greyley’s nursery. Yet simple as that sounded, Anna knew she’d just accepted the most difficult challenge of her life. Sighing, she went in search of Grandpapa.
Chapter 5
Anna Thraxton has the nose and the air of a Roman Caesar. Both have kept her from making an eligible match.
Miss Devonshire to Miss Prudhomme, while shopping on Bond Street
Sleep was impossible. First there had been bags to pack and then there were arrangements to be made for Grandpapa. To Anna’s surprise, he took the news of her new position at Greyley House without comment. He even allowed her to dash off a missive to their cousin, Lady Dandry, asking if she could come for a visit while Anna was gone. Grandpapa usually complained loudly about having to spend time with cousin Elmira, but this time he merely shrugged.
It was late when Anna finally went to bed. But not to rest. The quiet worked against her, and the memory of Greyley’s kiss again intruded on her thoughts. Once there, her mind stopped and lingered, dwelling on the moment in far more detail than necessary.
She was certain the kiss had been exceptional. Warm and firm, with a hint of determined command, the embrace had left her breathless. Breathless and wanting more.
Not that she would pursue such a silly desire. She had merely been intrigued. Yes, intrigued and…and infuriated. That’s what had caused her to feel slightly dizzy, all flushed and uncomfortable, as if a slow fever were consuming her. She kicked off her blankets at the remembrance and wished it was light enough to rise. Inactivity was conducive to restless thoughts. She’d have been much happier if she’d been up doing something. Anything other than thinking of the feel of Greyley’s mouth on hers.
The bounder had proven his rakehell tendencies by that damnable kiss. He was a man used to getting his own way, a man who had dallied far too long in the immoral arts. Certainly it had been far too well-practiced, far too…too…She sighed. The kiss had been all together too enjoyable and she knew it.
Fortunately she wasn’t a slave to her physical impulses like some people she could name. No, she was in control of herself and her surroundings at all time. Besides, there had always been a heated tension between them. It soothed her vanity to know that it wasn’t onesided.
Still, she would have to take care that it never happened again; Greyley was a dangerously attractive man. And the entire episode confirmed that he was also desperately in need of some guidance. For that reason alone, Anna was willing to overcome her natural hesitancy in accepting this position. She owed her friend Sara that much, if not more. Anna would set the nursery to rights, and in the process, she’d also do what she could to straighten out Sara’s misguided brother.
Of course, the proposition was not without risk. Greyley was arrogant and self-serving, and like other men of his set, he had to have other unattractive qualities. Perhaps he was addicted to drink and gaming; his kiss had proven that he was a practiced rakehell bent on seducing whoever was available. To a man with such a lack of moral rectitude, an impoverished governess would be fair game.
The thought made Anna tingle all over. Excitement at the challenge of proving him wrong, no doubt. How she relished the thought. She would avoid his attempts at seduction, focus her attentions on the children, and win the day.
Best yet, when she left, she’d demand a letter of recommendation written in his own hand, which she would frame and hang over the fireplace in her new abode, a reminder of what could be accomplished if one only persevered. All she had to do was keep her objectives firmly in sight and maintain a safe distance from Greyley.
She sighed in the darkness and rolled onto her side, curling around an extra pillow. In her first position as governess, she had worked for the Harbuckles, a pleasant enough family on the fringe of society. Well-moneyed due to Lord Harbuckle’s involvement in the textile industry, and vaguely connected to the Duke of York through a distant cousin by marriage, Lady Harbuckle had seen Anna as a way to further her own social standing. After all, the Thraxtons were related to almost everyone, from the prince on down and Anna had freely mingled with the best of society until only recently.
Thus Lady Harbuckle had treated Anna as a guest, insisting that she eat dinner with the family several times during the week, asking her opinion on fashion, driving with her in the park. At first Anna had been thankful, for she hadn’t relished her loss of standing, and Lady Harbuckle had made it plain that she considered Anna something more than a servant. Naively, Anna had welcomed Lady Harbuckle’s overtures of friendship.
All had gone well until Lady Harbuckle’s younger brother, a glib wastrel by the name of Lord Talbert, arrived for a visit. Handsome in a blurry, undefined sort of way, he had immediately attached himself to Anna’s side, despite her determined efforts to keep him at bay. Lady Harbuckle seemed to be amused at her brother’s florid compliments and she would not hear Anna’s attempts to hint that she was being made uncomfortable.
Anna decided that perhaps she was overreacting to Lord Talbert’s wholesome compliments. After all, it was obvious that Talbert was a practiced flirt. Unfortunately, he was also a pompous ass who believed his money and purchased title gave him the right to access the beds of every female in the household. Anna’s attempt to ignore the young lord merely urged him to new heights of impropriety.
Things got more and more uncomfortable until one fateful night Talbert, drunk as a fox, forced his way into Anna’s chamber. Had it not been for the nearness of her bedpan, which she used on His Lordship’s rather hard head to dissuade him from his nefarious intentions, Anna was certain she’d have been ravished.
The ruckus caused by Lord Talbert’s cry of pain on being crowned with the bedpan caused the entire household to come running. To Anna’s shock, Lady Harbuckle listened to her explanation in cold, disbelieving silence. As soon as Anna finished speaking, Lady Harbuckle had called Anna a liar and worse, suggesting that the entire incident was Anna’s fault for “tempting the poor boy.”
Anna would listen to no more. She had gathered her things and left. She’d been forced to walk almost seven blocks lugging her overstuffed portmanteau, before she found a hackney to take her the rest of the way.
She arrived home furious and heartbroken, ready to renounce her chosen profession. She’d naively believed that Lady Harbuckle had regarded her as something more than a governess. But now Anna knew the truth—she was a governess and she would never again be friends with a member of her own set. It was a bitter lesson to learn.
A good night’s sleep and a week of calm reflection had made Anna all the more determined to succeed. She was a governess, and by God, she’d be the best one in all of England. Furthermore, she’d be damned if she’d let a slug like Talbert thwart her.
True to form, Lady Harbuckle lost no time in informing the world that her new governess had attempted to lure her brother into sin, claiming that Anna had wished to secure the drunken sot as a husband. Had it not been for the Harbuckles’ limited social standing and Grandpapa’s successful manipulation of his cronies, most of whom were society’s most established gossipmongers, it would have been the end of Anna’s career.
From that day on, she set rigid rules for her own behavior. Rules that protected her from importuning younger brothers and philandering male cousins who came to visit when their pockets were to let. Never again would she allow protestations of friendship to draw her above stairs. Anna had been successful until Lucinda Dandridge had convinced her to attend her soirée. Anna sighed heavily. Even that small foray into the ton had been an error.
Now, apparently not content to err only once, she’d compounded her error by kissing her future employer. There was no excu
se for it. And it would not happen again. Anna sat up and tossed the sheets aside. The first pale glow of dawn approached, breaking through the cracks in the curtains and casting long fingers of pale light across the rug.
That was all Anna needed. She hurriedly rose and pulled on a gown. The rest of the morning was taken up in a flurry of preparations that did not leave time for useless wonderings about Greyley’s kiss or her own heated reaction.
At exactly ten, Anna sat in a stiff-backed chair by the fireplace in the front room, waiting. The carriage arrived only a few moments later, just as Anthony promised. Anna held her breath as the door creaked open, and Hawkes beamed as he announced the earl. Taking a deep calming breath, Anna stood and faced the earl.
Dressed for riding in buff breeches, black boots, a blue coat stretched across his broad shoulders, he looked devastatingly handsome. He came to an abrupt halt on seeing her. “Good God, what are you wearing?”
Anna’s hands went to the stiff skirts. It was an old gown, one she’d consigned to the attic long ago, brought out only for the annual spring cleaning she insisted occur each and every year, much to Mrs. Duckrow’s chagrin. Anna suspected the dress, made of stiff gray bombazine, had once been a mourning gown, for it relentlessly covered her from neck to foot. But it was plain and functional, and would serve to remind both her and Greyley of her position in his household.
He lifted his eyeglass from where it hung from his waistcoat and regarded her from head to foot. “Did you make it yourself?”
“No, I did not,” Anna replied. “Though you should be glad I didn’t for I could have taken offense at your tone.”
“You have too much sense to be such a ninny.” He dropped the eyeglass and let it swing back and forth on its ribbon. “You look like a nun. What’s that gown made of? Sackcloth?”
“No. It’s very good bombazine.”
“The blue gown you had on yesterday had more…” He gestured vaguely. “…drapery or something. I liked it better.”