Page 29 of The Colonel's Ungovernable Governess
Miss Lambert’s shoulders rolled into place, having lost the easiness of a few moments earlier. “Both, would you not think, Colonel?” she challenged.
“I understand the need for the twins to come below stairs, but why is it necessary for the ducklings to be underfoot?”
“Because their mother is nowhere to be found. If we do not feed them, they will die. The twins have expressed a concern that the ducklings mimic their own circumstance. Under that assumption, Mrs. Turner and I thought it best to feed the ducklings. If such an expense is too much for the estate to assume, you may take the cost of feed from my pay.”
“Such is not necessary. Yet, I am concerned the ducklings could cause an accident in the kitchen. We could create a pen to enclose the ducklings inside until they are strong enough to release into the wild. I think it would be good for the twins to tend the ducklings—to become responsible for their survival. Do you object, Miss Lambert?”
“I do not, Colonel.” She bent to capture one of the ducklings. “We could begin by placing them in the stables, do you not think, sir? More than several chickens are often found within.”
“A good compromise,” he agreed. “I will set a couple of the men to constructing an enclosure. I would wish the children to assist with some of the tasks, which would mean you should oversee their efforts. I do not wish them to grow up thinking themselves due privileges simply because of their position in society. You do know where they are at this moment, do you not?” he added so he might appear to have been searching for the twins.
“Lady Victoria is with Lady Annabelle. Lady Annabelle is supposedly assisting her sister with Victoria’s needlework, but I planned to check in on them in another quarter hour to assure myself all is as it should be. I found no reason to deny Lady Annabelle’s request for her sister to join her after so long a separation. As to Lord Vincent, the boy wished to work on his research for the Jennings family tree. I promised to show him something of how one might look when finished. In reference to overseeing their work on the pen for the ducklings, I shall see to it, Colonel,” she responded smartly. “Is there anything else, sir?”
“Yes, I would like to speak to you privately if you do not mind. , in the study in five minutes.” As he walked away, Edward had no idea why he had asked her to meet with him privately. The woman was too much of a temptation. Whenever he was in her presence, he wished to touch her.
He had barely reached his desk when she knocked on the open door. “Mrs. Turner says these are your favorites. They are fresh from the oven.”
Edward eyed the raisin-laced biscuits. “It was good of Mrs. Turner to consider my favorites. You may set them on the desk.” He did not dare leave the security of having a space between them.
She set the plate on the desk and lifted the lid on a small bowl of sugar on the tray and began sprinkling it across the warm soft biscuits. It clung to the dough quickly, and she licked the sugar from her fingers. It was all he could do not to catch her hand and suck her fingertips clean. Like it or not, a small groan escaped his lips.
“I knew you would approve,” she said as she circled the desk to hold the plate with one of the biscuits sitting upon it, which she lifted to his lips. “Taste them while they are still hot.”
Angry at himself for desiring her, he caught her wrist. “What game do you play, Miss Lambert?” he hissed.
“No game, Colonel. I simply meant to see you treated with a bit of happiness. You have taken on so much, what with the children and all. I know you must be terribly worried for your brother.”
“I am accustomed to duty,” he declared as he snatched the plate from her fingers and set it on the desk. “Duty to my family and my country is all I have ever known.”
“Duty to everyone but yourself,” she said softly. “So very sad. Everyone deserves a moment or two of happiness.” She shoved her shoulders back in a motion that often mimicked his response. It made him very sad, for he never wanted anyone for whom he cared to know the “despair” he often experienced. “I should go.”
“No,” he responded. “I have not yet tasted the biscuits. Do you mind offering them again?”
She looked at him oddly, but reached for the plate and lifted the biscuit to his lips. He was confident she knew what was to come. She did not look away from his steady gaze. When the biscuit touched his lips, he only took a nibble. Though it was a tempting morsel of pastry, the sweet biscuit was not what he desired.
As if his hand had a mind of its own, he took the plate and returned it to the desk. “If you do not wish this, Miss Lambert, you should step away now.” When she did not move, he gently drew her into his embrace, providing her the opportunity to change her mind. “This is more to my taste,” he murmured as his lips covered hers. Heaven surrounded him. Her warmth. The scent of rose water. The feel of her along his front. He had just parted her lips with his tongue and was prepared to deepen his kiss, when she suddenly pulled back, shoving against his shoulder.
Although his body screamed otherwise, he permitted her to do so without reaching for her again. Though, he desired her more than his next breath, he would not force himself on her.
She looked at him warily. “We should not become involved,” she rasped.
“You objected to my kiss after all,” he said in clipped tones, he could not hide.
“No, I wished your kiss. The kiss was a necessary part of this ‘dance’ we are performing. Your kiss was more than pleasant—it would be odd if I did not desire it.”
“In many ways, you are the most remarkable governess God ever created, though we both know you were never meant to be a governess. I do not know whether I should encourage you to remain with the twins or send you packing. You are nothing of the nature of any governess I have ever encountered. Should I dismiss you or encourage you? You are truly a conundrum, Miss Lambert.”
She raised her chin in hauteur. “As are you, sir,” she retorted.
“Should you not already be married?” he continued, ignoring her response. “By your own words, you are nearing your majority. Was there no one on the Continent who thought to tame you?” he demanded.
“I could ask the same of you. Mrs. Darcy says you are two years senior to your cousin, making you somewhere around two and thirty. And as to those on the Continent, who says I never had a ‘love’?” she said in a huff of apparent frustration, which went a long way in calming his own temperament, while wondering what man would dare to walk away from her. “Did you mean your ‘should you not already be married’ as a proposal, Colonel?”
“If I choose to propose to you, you would have no doubt regarding my intention,” he quipped.
“I thought perhaps you might believe since I accepted a kiss from you that I expected you to propose. I do not. Not now. Not ever.” With that, she stormed from the room, calling over her shoulder, “Please do not choke on the biscuits, Colonel. You are to escort the children to the fair today!”
* * *
