Page 3 of The Moonstone Governess
Well, he had not propositioned her.
However, she could not overlook the smolder in his eyes as he regarded her, studying her with enough intensity to peel away her layers of clothing and see into her soul.
“Your Grace, you have not seen me around here before because I am a teacher at a prestigious girls’ school in Oxford. The Rainard Academy. Have you heard of it?” When he did not bother to answer, she sighed softly and continued. “I came home this summer to settle affairs. You see, my mother passed away five years ago, and my father last year. I am their only surviving child.”
“You had brothers and sisters?”
She nodded. “One brother and one sister, both older. But they did not survive into adulthood.”
“I’m sorry. I see you clearly loved them.”
She nodded again. “I did. Very much. This was partly the reason I needed to get away from here. Walls suddenly seemed to close in all around me. Do you understand this feeling?”
His expression softened, for the first time showing a little warmth. “I surely do.”
“I thought you would.” She absently brushed back a wayward curl as the wind, already warm for this hour of the morning, blew it loose. “When I was offered the position at the Rainard Academy, I jumped at the opportunity. I returned only this week with the thought of selling the house and settling permanently in Oxford. But now that I am here…” She shook her head and held out her hands in a gesture of supplication. “I cannot part with the property. In truth, I could no more part with it than I could part with my heart. I am sorry, Your Grace. It is not for sale.”
“I see.” His arms remained folded over his chest as he gazed toward the village and its sweep of homes down to the sea. “There is something about Moonstone Landing that draws me here, too. I have been searching for a house around here for years, as everyone in town seems to know. My land agent, Mr. Priam, must be pulling his hair out in frustration. He is convinced I am impossible to please. Perhaps he is right. I did not know what I was looking for, only that I would recognize it when I saw it.”
“And after three years of searching, you have suddenly decided my home is for you? What changed from one year to the next? Surely you always knew of this house.” She regarded him with a deeper curiosity, sensing the unhappiness behind his genial smile. “If it is of any consolation to you, Mr. Priam is ready to throttle me, too. I know he is salivating to sell Stoningham Manor. But I cannot bring myself to sign the papers. I am sorry, but you shall have to continue your search elsewhere. However, may I pass an observation?”
His gaze raked over her once again, those eyes of his as sharp as cut crystals, so blue and icy. He regarded her with marked impatience. However, instead of refusing her, he cast her a wry smile and said, “Go ahead. You seem to enjoy inserting that little nose of yours into my business.”
She ignored his comment. “There are many fine homes in the area. I think it is not a house you are looking for so much as peace for your ravaged soul.”
He stiffened, and his expression immediately darkened. “That is quite some observation, Miss Angel. Perhaps you ought to keep those thoughts to yourself in the future.”
It was her turn to arch an eyebrow. “Perhaps you ought not be so prickly.”
“Perhapsyou ought to stop meddling in other people’s affairs and tend to your own. Let me delay you no longer. Did you not mention you have someplace else you need to be?”
She had never said any such thing.
His arms remained taut as they lay crossed over his massive chest. Obviously, his jacket required no padding at the shoulders, for his muscles were real and meant to intimidate.
Was he dismissing her? The gall of him.
She tipped her chin up in defiance, a gesture he would certainly regard as meaningless, but it made her feel better. “Perhaps you ought to apologize to me, because this is my land you are standing on, and need I point out you are trespassing? I have every right to be here. You do not.”
His arms now fell to his sides as he stared at her, no doubt attempting to determine whether she was in jest. “Are you telling meallof this is yours? This poppy field? This hillside and its view of the sea? As well as your house?”
“Yes. I thought Mr. Priam would have told you.”
“Perhaps he did. The man is an idiot and never stops babbling.” He glanced at the large stone manor in the distance behind him. “That settles it. I want Stoningham Manor. I want all of this.”
She inhaled lightly. “Have you not been listening to me? It is not for sale. Besides, the manor is run-down and will not suit your family anyway.”
“It is not all that run-down. I have been inside. It requires little more than a fresh coat of paint and a thorough dusting.”
“And repairs to the stone. Cracked windows that require new panes. Chimneys in need of cleaning. When did you see it last?”
He shrugged. “Last year. Mr. Priam showed me around shortly after your father passed. You must have returned to Oxford by then, for I certainly would have remembered meeting you. He thought your manor would be perfect for me. But he said the same of the other twenty properties he showed me, so I did not make too much of it.”
“Why, that sneaky fellow. He must have wheedled the keys from Thaddius. Why are you here now? Obviously, you found my home lacking last year.”
“I never said that.”
“You did not have to. Had you truly loved it, you would have made me an offer for it on the spot. Well, it was not for sale back then, and Mr. Priam should not have shown it to you. In any event, I am not going to sell a house that was once filled with so much love to the likes of…”
