Chapter Eight #2
“I would like to discuss the housemaids, my lord,” Isabella finally said quietly.
“Is there a problem?”
“Not exactly a problem, my lord,” Isabella hedged. She felt her face growing warm, but she boldly plunged forward. “It is just that the housemaids are all ... umm ... that is to say, they are ... um, well, all ... expecting.”
“Expecting? Expecting what, Miss Browning?”
“Babies, my lord. Babies. All four of the housemaids are with child!” Isabella was aghast at the earl’s lighthearted tone. She felt this was a very serious matter indeed, yet she could almost swear she saw a smile cross his handsome face.
“I was under the impression that most governesses liked children. Are you an exception?”
She looked at him levelly. “I like children very much, my lord.” Isabella stiffened her back and sat up straight in her chair. “Since I have been hired to care for your own children, I was wondering if I will also be responsible for these yet unborn babies.”
Isabella had the satisfaction of seeing the earl shocked into stunned silence as it took several moments for him to realize what her question implied. She could clearly see the precise moment when the meaning of her question registered in his mind.
Sending Isabella a piercing stare, the earl said harshly, “Maggie, Fran, Molly, and Penny are all married women, Miss Browning. Their husbands are employed in various capacities at The Grange. Each couple occupies a small suite of rooms in the servants’ quarters on the fourth floor.”
Isabella made a slight sound to clear her throat and her violet eyes flickered uneasily. Her cheeks blushed an even brighter shade of pink as she lowered her gaze to the carpet.
“I was unaware that the maids were married, my lord,” Isabella responded quietly.
“However, that makes little difference.” Recalling vividly that the man who had married Isabella’s own mother was not in fact her natural father propelled her to ask a direct question. “Are they your children, my lord?”
The earl appeared so taken aback by her directness that he had difficulty formulating an intelligent response. “You actually believe I am the father of these children?”
“Someone informed me that you had fathered several children from your housemaids,” Isabella answered with a slight quaver in her voice.
She forced her eyes from the rug and cast a long, doubtful look at the earl.
“I do not know if you are responsible, my lord. That is why I have asked this question.”
The earl was instantly suspicious. “Who told you I have fathered these children? Certainly not the maids?”
“I did not question the maids about the father of their children, my lord,” Isabella said, bristling at the suggestion she would be so insensitive.
“Lady Edson informed me before I arrived at The Grange that three of the housemaids were carrying your babies. At the time I dismissed her gossip as pure slander, but after discovering all four of the maids were in truth with child, I did not know what to believe.”
“Lady Edson is a meddlesome, gossiping fool!” the earl shouted, obviously struggling to master his temper. He shifted suddenly in his chair, and the book on his lap fell to the floor. He ignored it.
“I am not sure if I should be flattered or insulted, Miss Browning,” the earl finally declared, his temper tightly leashed. He shook his head ruefully. “Bedding four different women, all of them living under the same roof. Extraordinary.”
“It does seem rather incredible,” Isabella mused, beginning to wonder if she had made a very serious mistake. “Exhausting actually.”
The last she had whispered under her breath, but the earl heard her.
And it struck him as absurdly funny. He should be angry with her, furious really, for first crediting and then repeating such an absurd tale.
And then having the unmitigated gall to face him directly with her allegations.
Yet he suddenly found the entire situation ironically humorous, though he had no clear idea why.
His shoulders shook a bit with amusement as he recalled the shock on her face at his reaction to her questions.
Damien decided it was time to put things to right, but first he intended to put the fear of God into the very proper Miss Browning.
A teasing glint of anticipation entered the earl’s smoky gray eyes.
Stretching his back languidly, he threw Isabella an assessing glance.
“What if these accusations are true, Miss Browning?” Damien inquired smoothly.
He leaned seductively toward her, a calculated, lecherous grin on his handsome face.
“Will you now flee from my house in abject terror, my dear, frightened beyond your wits at the thought of being seduced by such an unscrupulous rake as myself?”
Isabella hardly dared to breathe as the earl moved closer to her. He was so near, she could feel his warm breath on her cheek, could smell his distinctively masculine scent. She clearly felt the underlying tension emanating from the earl’s solidly built body, and it made her decidedly uneasy.
“I feel certain I can protect myself from any of your attempts at seduction, my lord,” Isabella finally choked out, “though in truth I see no reason why you would have the slightest interest in me.”
Isabella was pleased that she had managed to formulate some sort of response, given the intense pounding of her heart. Yet she felt her statement certainly would have been more effective if she hadn’t sounded so breathless and meek when she uttered it.
“Come now, Isabella, there is no need to be coy. You are an attractive woman. Surely you are aware of your feminine allure,” the earl continued silkenly, clearly enjoying this intimate bantering with the lovely governess.
His eyes glistened with excitement, and he felt a strange exhilaration in his broad chest. Damien deliberately moved himself even closer to her, studying Isabella’s wide-eyed expression with a certain satisfaction.
By God, if the woman thought he was capable of bedding all four of his housemaids, he would not disappoint her expectations.
“You have not answered my question, my lord,” Isabella whispered back, ignoring completely the earl’s intimate remarks.
She was aware of a growing sensation of lightheadedness, caused, she was certain, by the deep timber of his voice and the sensual intoxication of his nearness.
Her throat felt parched, her pulse was racing, her breathing was shallow.
She had never before encountered a man who inspired such feelings within her.
“I have never bedded any of the women in my employ, Isabella,” the earl continued in the same mesmerizing tone, enjoying himself too much to stop now. “But that is the past. Who knows what the future will hold?”
Isabella’s violet eyes widened even further at his remark, and she was shocked to the core to hear herself whisper throatily back. “Who knows indeed?”
“Almighty God!”
The earl swore loudly at her completely unanticipated response, and his lips descended swiftly on her own.
His assault caught her by surprise, but she did not protest. Her lips parted slightly, and he boldly slipped his tongue inside her sweet mouth.
Isabella flinched at the invasion, but the earl wrapped one strong hand around the back of her neck to prevent her retreat.
Pleasure soon overcame any doubts as a shiver of pure passion seared through Isabella’s taut body. She moaned softly in the back of her throat and willingly returned his kisses.
The hard, almost painful ache of his swollen manhood forced the reality of the moment into Damien’s consciousness. When he realized precisely who was arousing him to such acute passion, he wrenched himself away and abruptly stood up.
The earl deliberately dragged himself away from her, knowing he was only seconds away from taking her into his arms and thoroughly seducing her. The little game he had instigated was fast progressing beyond his control.
He strode purposefully toward the fireplace, needing to place a physical distance between himself and Isabella. He rested his arm against the mantle, keeping his back to her.
Isabella was grateful to escape. The reckless excitement she derived from the earl’s kisses was easing, although the indefinable sense of heated awareness flowing within her body lingered.
“I shall have my belongings packed and ready so I may leave at first light tomorrow morning, my lord.” Isabella could not keep the trembling from her voice with her softly whispered declaration.
She felt certain the earl was going to dismiss her, and she wanted to save herself from that final humiliation.
Whatever had possesed her to first make such brazen accusations against him and then respond with such wanton abandonment to his thrilling kisses was beyond her comprehension.
The earl felt a sharp pang of guilt. He had goaded her too far, and now she thought it was necessary to flee from him.
Stoically, he turned and faced Isabella. “If I give you my solemn promise never to repeat such boorish behavior, Miss Browning,” the earl inquired quietly, “will you reconsider your decision to leave Whatley Grange?”
“I was merely anticipating your actions, my lord,” Isabella said, noting with a strange sense of loss that he had again adopted the formality of calling her Miss Browning instead of Isabella. “You are not going to dismiss me?”
“For an incident that was utterly my fault? That would be grossly unfair.”
“The fault was on both sides, my lord,” Isabella responded gently, knowing she could not allow him to take full responsibility.
Isabella rose to her feet and met him squarely, her beautiful eyes soft and apologetic. In her heart she knew the correct course of action would be to leave Whatley Grange as fast as possible. But she did not want to leave.
“If you would be kind enough to excuse my unpardonable behavior, my lord,” Isabella said plainly, “I will gladly continue as Catherine and Ian’s governess.”
“I am pleased you want to stay with us.” The husky masculine whisper sent a tingle through her. In some ways the apologies they exchanged were as intimate as the kisses they had shared. Isabella nervously dropped her eyes from the earl’s and turned to leave the room.
She paused at the doorway. “I shall see you in the morning, my lord.”
“Good night, Miss Browning.”
Damien reached automatically for his glass of wine the moment the room was empty. His thoughts were filled with images of Isabella. He was genuinely appalled at his actions toward her. She was employed in his household, under his protection, and he had treated her with utter disrespect.
Isabella’s response to his blatant sensual assault on her person had been the biggest shock of all. She had responded honestly, with passion and desire. A very dangerous reaction, indeed.
Damien drained his wine glass and instantly refilled it.
He eyed the full decanter of claret and wondered if he would be able to restrain himself from consuming the entire bottle.
The earl was glad Isabella had elected to remain at The Grange, but he questioned the wisdom of requesting her to stay.
Was it really necessary to keep a woman in his household who simultaneously intrigued him and drove him to drink?