Page 3 of The Governess’s Absolutely Impossible Wish (The Notorious Briarwoods #8)

E veryone in the house was ready for Christmas. It was an exceptionally happy time, and Zephyr appreciated that deeply. And yet he felt a trifle ill at ease. He had been doing his part to get his sister Perdita and Gordon, the Earl of Hythe, on the path to matrimony. And he and his brothers were doing a very good job, if he did say so himself.

He, Hector, and Ajax had done some of the best work with Gordon recently, and it had been good fun. There was nothing better than insinuating one was going to murder someone all in the name of good fun, marriage, and love. Sometimes it was the only way to get a buffoon of a man to admit that he was deeply in love with a woman. It was really a tragedy the way men were raised, as if they couldn’t accept their emotions. Truly, all men needed to do was throw themselves into their feelings and surrender to what they deserved, which, of course, was love.

Everyone deserved love.

He knew that he’d been extremely lucky. He had been loved by his mother and father from the moment he had been born. Likely, he had been loved since the moment of conception. His siblings had loved him since his arrival too. Briarwoods were simply loved and loved in return.

It was an exceptionable thing to have because he knew that most people did not have that. He wondered if the governess had had it. He doubted it.

In fact, he felt fairly certain that not only had she not had it, she had been denied it with a touch of cruelty.

It certainly might explain why she was being resistant to him since their conversation in the library. Very little time had actually passed, but so much was happening with Perdita and Gordon and Christmas that he had no real sense of time.

Even with his desire to bring Perdita and Gordon together, he’d tried to find a way to chat with Miss Abbot.

The chance had not arrived—and he was fairly certain it was because she was avoiding him.

She hadn’t been rude. Not at all.

And their eyes kept meeting across the rooms they met in during the various events of the celebrations that were unfolding. Surely, this was a good sign. Surely, the fact that whenever he strode into a room, she caught his gaze, was a good sign. And whenever he came into a room, he immediately spotted her. They were like two lodestones being drawn towards each other, but before they could be properly attached, she would flip her lodestone, so to speak, and run off.

It was quite odd, but he understood times were very busy.

That had to be it. She did not wish to be distracted from her work.

After all, she was having to entertain the children and make them ready for all the merriment. And he, of course, was also extremely busy doing what his older brother, the duke, required to make certain that Gordon and Perdita were being pushed together.

In regard to Perdita and Gordon, it was all unfolding exactly as the plan required, and yet his own heart was hammering away, yearning for Miss Abbot. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t have to explain it. There was no need to try to define it.

But the moment he had stepped into that library, spotted her, and then listened to her proclaim how one must teach children in a specific way, he’d been well and truly lost.

How could he not adore her or think her the most magnificent creature in the whole world in the face of such passion and dedication?

There had been something about her standing before the fire with the light silhouetting her body and causing her already auburn-red hair to burn like a flame.

He had wanted to kneel down before her and tell her that he would help her conquer the world in whatever ways she wished in order to bring education reform to all of England.

England certainly needed it. His own childhood education had been a rather painful one, which he believed was almost certainly why his mother had made sure that someone like Miss Abbot was in the house to properly care for the new generation of Briarwoods.

But when he was a boy, there hadn’t yet been an alternative concept for education that involved curiosity or kindness. No, it had been a great deal of stern men with puckered mouths who looked as if they had sucked upon lemons, wielding sticks, all whilst reciting the proper conjugations of the verbs in Caesar’s Gallic Wars .

His mother had stopped the sticks and the puckered-faced men once she’d realized how deleterious they were, thank goodness, but Eton had not been a pleasant place either. Education in Britain was cold, unyielding, and taught gentlemen not to feel. And he had a great many feelings. His whole family did.

As he gently held Miss Abbot’s notebook in his hand, feeling as if he held her somehow, and slipped down the hall that evening, he had even more feelings. He could not wait to return it to her. He had found it in the library again. He smiled, thinking of how she liked to sit before the fire with the children and read books to them.

Sometimes she told tales that thrilled the heart and caused the children to laugh and clap their hands with excitement. He had sat quietly in a chair, pretending to read a rather large tome on the Emperor Augustus Caesar, and listened to her with much amusement, wishing that he could join in.

She had just slipped down this hall a few moments ago, headed towards her room. He’d spotted her and tried to chase after her, but she was very quick. He’d just seen the flap of her skirts. He’d had the vague feeling that someone else had been in the hallway and might have spotted him, but he wasn’t worried about that. He wasn’t doing anything that he shouldn’t, and he wouldn’t do anything amiss. No, he never would. Never could.

And yet a part of him longed to show her just how much he could give her, how much care he could shower upon her, and she clearly needed it. For he felt he had seen a shadow in her gaze that she did not let anyone else see.

He swallowed. Surely, it was too soon to think such things. But then again—oh, the way she had stood like a firebrand ready to proclaim to the world how children should be educated and raised? How he admired her.

She had been unafraid to speak her mind to him. So many people, servants or no, did not allow themselves to be bold with those who came from such a powerful family as his.

And Miss Abbot was in that strange place of not quite being a servant while being in the employ of his family. And so it would not have surprised him if she had merely curtsied to him and said niceties when he asked her questions.

But she had spoken of her passion, and it had awoken his.

Now, as he traveled down the hall, the book in his hand, excitement to personally slip it into her hand built within him because he knew how important it was to her.

He wondered if she often forgot things.

She seemed so organized, and yet she had left this in the library twice. It was no easy thing, he supposed, chasing after so many children. She was remarkably composed, considering she was surrounded by those who tugged on her skirts, called her name over and over, and enjoyed playing with frogs and mud.

At last, he came to the end of the hallway and stopped before her door. He knocked softly upon it and the door swung open.

He nearly staggered back at the sight. His eyes flared and his breath rushed out of his lungs. The world vanished around him and there was nothing but her.

Her hair was down, tumbling about her features, and she was holding a dressing gown in her hand as she said, “Mary, I don’t need hot water now, thank you.”

But then her voice died softly and her own eyes flared with recognition and shock.

She was standing in her night rail.

How had she done that so quickly? Perhaps years of practice getting dressed by herself?

Zephyr swallowed. She looked heavenly standing in her pale nightclothes. The fabric was thin. Thin enough that he could see the shadows and curves beneath. Oh, she was divine.

Her eyes danced with surprise, and for a moment, a spark of something else.

“My lord,” she gasped finally, “you really shouldn’t be here.”

“Forgive me,” he rushed. “I found something of yours.”

“Did you?” she managed, her cheeks aflame.

“Yes, this,” he said, holding her book forward so that she could see it.

“Oh.” She let out a startled cry of relief before she let out a laugh. “I thought you followed me here for…”

“For what?” he asked, his brows drawing together.

“Well, my lord, sometimes gentlemen do approach their servants for…”

“Oh,” he exclaimed, as understanding dawned on him. “Forgive me,” he exclaimed again, this time horrified.

This was not going at all as he’d thought it would. He’d been eager to see her pleasure. Instead, he’d made a deuced mess.

He closed his eyes. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. That is not at all my intent. I thought you would be pleased for me to return this to you.”

“Oh, and I am,” she replied. “What would I do tomorrow morning without it? I suppose I would remember a few things from memory, but it would be much easier having this. You see, I write a great deal. Look.”

With that, she flipped the book open and showed him there were several lines scrawled in a bold but elegant hand. Each of the children’s names were mentioned. And he could see that she had plans for each of them. Songs, shapes, textures that she intended to teach them the next morning.

Leaves were even pressed into the page. He was surprised to see a holly leaf in there.

“You truly care,” he mused, “about each one of them.”

“Why should I not?” she said, tugging her dressing gown on swiftly, awkwardly, endearingly, all whilst juggling her book. “I am lucky that I have them in my life. It is a great turn of fortune for me. Though Miss Abelard was most kind, I was alone at the school, you see, and now I have a good many charges to care about.”

“Alone?” he echoed softly.

She swallowed, the muscles at the line of her throat working ever so slightly. “It is not uncommon,” she defended. “I was orphaned, and Miss Abelard took me in and allowed me to be educated in her school in exchange for my expertise in music. Now, sir, I must retire. This is a very awkward conversation. And I cannot be caught with you whilst I am…”

She gestured up and down at her state of dress.

He lifted his hand. “Forgive me,” he said again, his movement rough with his own confusing emotions. “You are such an intriguing person. Do you not think…”

He began to tilt his head down slightly. He did not intend to make it look as if he was going to kiss her, even though he did wish very much to kiss her.

Her eyes traveled to his lips, and for a moment it seemed as if she too might lean in towards him. But then she stepped back. Her night rail swished about her lithe body, and she held the notebook against her chest. “Thank you, my lord. It was a great kindness. But I think it would be best if you find anything of mine in the future that you simply pass it on to a servant, and they shall make certain I receive it.”

He blinked. “Can we not be friends, Miss Abbot?”

“Friends?” she queried softly. “Oh, certainly,” she said, “if that is what you wish. I am happy to be your acquaintance, Lord Zephyr, but I think that you should not come to my door. Not again. Not if we are to be friends.”

And with that, she took another step back and shut the door.

He felt undone as he stood gaping.

This was not the Christmas he had expected, being put so entirely off foot by the governess.

He did not know what he had thought would happen here. That she would invite him into her chamber for a long chat to discuss education? What a ludicrous idea. But somehow he had thought that his reward might be more than a few words of conversation and a willingness for her to be his acquaintance.

But, of course, he should not expect or wish for more.

And even though it was damn painful, he turned on his heel and headed down the hall. He drew in a long sigh. What was he going to do? How was he going to convince her that he only had the best of intentions?

Because he knew in that moment that he did need to convince her because he had found his match in the fiery eyes of a governess who loved to teach. He wondered if it would be possible for him to teach her in turn that he wasn’t dangerous at all.

Because if she was the one for him… There was only one way this would end and that would be with them happily together and in love.

So, he headed down the hall, not dismayed but smiling. Ready to fall.