Gift-Wrapped Governess by Sophia James Read Free Book Online Page A

wishes that you were in bed with him, Gareth,’ he replied as he stood to carry his son back to the nursery.
    22 December
    The Duke of Blackhaven looked different this morning as Seraphina came to the breakfast table, for his hair was loose around his face, giving the impression of a pirate from the dangerous South Sea Islands. However, his jacket was double breasted and the beige superfine in his trousers well ironed.
    Her own attire was unforgivably dowdy, the rips on her skirt repaired badly and her only pair of boots still damp from the deep snow.
    â€˜Mrs Thomas says that you declined the use of the gowns she laid out on your bed?’
    â€˜I did, sir, for the ones I own shall suffice.’
    â€˜If it is because you do not wish to wear my wife’s clothes, my housekeeper assures me she could fashion something from the many bolts of fabric that are stored in the attic. She is an expert seamstress by all accounts.’
    Seraphina felt herself hesitate. A new gown that was neither too big nor badly torn for Christmas was tempting and she was so very tired of wearing what she had.
    â€˜I could take the cost of the fabric from your wages.’
    His suggestion made her blush because she knew that sucha thing would be far and above any money she was earning as a governess.
    Yet temptation lingered. Reaching for her grandmother’s single pearl on the chain around her neck, she slipped it off so that it lay in the palm of her hand. She had always worn this piece since Elizabeth had died and it was undeniably precious. Yet reality beckoned, too, in the shabby dress she had on, the seams beneath her left arm so frayed she could no longer repair them.
    â€˜If I put this down as a surety for the sum of the fabric, I could accept your offer.’
    He shook his head. ‘I have no need for it.’
    Her gaze met his, amber-gold in the daylight, drawing her in. She felt her body respond to his glance, a throb of want dancing like flame warmth across her skin. When he stepped back the disappointment stung.
    â€˜You look like your mother. Did you know that?’
    Her heart thumped at the question, coming as if on the surge of desire. ‘Were you her lover, then?’
    Discomfort shadowed his face. ‘How much did you comprehend about Elizabeth’s life?’ His voice was wary.
    â€˜Enough to realise she was unhappy with my father. Enough to see her spend hours getting ready at night and not return until the morning.’ She had never told anyone that before, but it did not feel disloyal here to speak of such things. The duke had known Mama, after all, and he had helped her when others had turned away. Besides, it might have been he who kept her occupied nightly.
    â€˜People deal with an unhappy relationship in different ways and for Elizabeth it was through enjoying the company of my cousin before he died. Terence. His name was Terence.’
    Relief allowed the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding to escape. ‘The same as your son?’
    â€˜Aye, he was named after him. We were brought up togetherlike brothers and the last thing he said to me was “look after Lizzy”.’
    â€˜So you gave her money when Papa would not?’
    â€˜The bills were piling up and your father had refused to pay them, but in the end it was not such largesse she needed at all…’
    Seraphina understood what he was saying. Her mother had gone to Moreton and raced her horse fast across the track above the cliffs. Fast enough for it to lose its footing and for Elizabeth to be transported to the place her lover had already been taken to? Other things became explained as well: her father’s lack of grief, an escalating gambling habit and his anger.
    â€˜Thank you for telling me the truth.’
    He smiled and held her gaze, just the two of them here in the breakfast room, the day drawing into coldness and the new snow falling outside. Buffered by nature and locked in by the