Chapter 8 #2
The trouble was, it wasn’t her place to analyze Lord Hawke. He was the earl, for pity’s sake. He might do as he pleased without a word of explanation to anyone, least of all his sons’ governess.
Yet even as that thought drifted through her mind her hand lifted, and this time her knuckles met the wood in a sharp rap.
Alas, she’d never been much good at minding her own affairs.
There was a brief pause, then Lord Hawke’s surly voice. “What is it?”
Oh, dear. He sounded as if he was in a foul humor, and she hadn’t even entered the study yet. She braced herself, and opened the door. “Lord Hawke? Might I have a word with you?”
There was a low fire burning in the grate, but he hadn’t lit a lamp. His face was cast in shadows, but there was no mistaking the exasperation in his tone. “It’s still dark out, Miss Templeton. What could possibly have happened this early in the morning that requires my attention?”
Perhaps she should have waited until after he’d had his coffee? But she was no coward, and she’d come this far. She wouldn’t back out now. “I wish to have a word with you about Hecate, my lord.”
“Hecate? You mean that wild cat who’s sitting in as livestock for your animal husbandry lessons? Whatever the problem is, I don’t know why you’re troubling me with it. I don’t have anything to do with Hecate.”
My, he was a convincing liar, wasn’t he? “That’s not quite true, is it, Lord Hawke?”
“I have no idea what you mean, Miss Templeton.”
“I think you do.” She stepped further into the room and closed the door quietly behind her.
“Cream, Lord Hawke. Salmon cutlets, and pigeon pie.” She counted the items off on her fingers, one by one.
“French beans—I own I don’t quite understand that one—and this morning…
” She held up the brick she’d taken from Hecate. “Warmed bricks and a soft flannel.”
He stared at her for a moment without speaking, but just when she was certain he was about to toss her out of his study, he rose from behind his desk and stalked across the room until he was looming over her. “Have you been spying on me, Miss Templeton?”
Dear God, but he was tall, wasn’t he? Had he always been this tall?
And his eyes…they were such a piercing green it felt as if he could see down to the depths of her soul.
A shiver darted down her spine, but she lifted her chin and met his gaze.
“No, I…I came across it quite by accident, I assure you. My bedchamber window looks onto the stable yard, my lord. I’ve seen you going into the stables myself. ”
“And followed after me, from the sounds of it. My, you are a sneaky one, aren’t you?” He took another step closer, close enough so the damp sleeve of his coat brushed her arm, and the scent of frost and clean hay surrounded her. “In fact, you have been spying on me.”
“N-not with any ill-intent. I thought…” Oh, what had she thought? She hardly knew anymore. Every rational argument had scattered in the wake of his nearness. She couldn’t think at all, couldn’t breathe, and she turned her head away, desperate to escape those searching green eyes.
“Yes?” He caught her chin between his fingers and turned her face back to his. “What did you think?”
His fingertips were warm and slightly rough against her skin, and the way he was looking at her, the timbre of his voice, husky and deeper than usual…
She’d heard him use that rough voice before, yesterday morning when he’d brought Hestia back to her. The same current she’d felt leaping between them then was there again, writhing between them like a live thing, and he was gazing at her lips, his pupils darkening, his eyelids lowering…
Dear God, was he going to kiss her?
“Oh.” Her own eyelids fluttered closed as his thumb came up and traced her lower lip. It was the lightest, gentlest stroke, hardly a touch at all, but somehow it echoed across every inch of her body, making her blood hum in response and a steady pulse beat deep inside her belly.
But he was a rake, wasn’t he? How could she have forgotten that? He knew how to touch a woman, how to seduce her, and—
“I asked you a question, Helena. What did you think when you saw me sneaking into the stables in the mornings? Were you afraid for poor Hecate’s safety? Did you think I meant to do away with her?”
“I—I didn’t know what to think, at first, but now…oh.” She caught her breath as he traced her lip again, thrown entirely off her guard at the exquisite sensations flooding through her in response. How could a man reduce her to a quivering mass of need with a single stroke of his thumb?
“Yes? You didn’t know what to think, but now…?”
“I—the cream, and the blankets, and the salmon…I think you want to care for someone, and it’s easier to care for Hecate than Ryan and Etienne.
” She forced herself to open her heavy eyelids and meet his gaze.
“I think you’re either afraid to show how much you care for your sons, or else you don’t know how to, so you lavish all your tenderness for them on Hecate, instead. ”
He stilled, his thumb ceasing its slow stroke across her lips.
“But you don’t need to do that, my lord.” She searched his inscrutable face, tried to see beyond the shadows that distorted the truth, to see to the man underneath, the one he hid from everyone. “The boys want your attention. They miss their father.”
He let out a hoarse laugh. “You’re a governess, Miss Templeton. You should know that what a child wants isn’t always the best thing for them.”
“But not this time, my lord,” she whispered. “They need you as much as you need them.”
He gazed down at her, his throat working, but whatever he wanted to say never made it past his lips.
Instead, his hand dropped away from her face.
“You needn’t worry about Hecate, Miss Templeton.
” He retreated behind his desk again, his back to her as he stared out the window into the dark, frozen garden.
“I can assure you I don’t intend her any harm. ”
Did he truly think she believed he’d hurt Hecate? “I know that, my lord. Will you…will you at least come to the animal husbandry lesson today? The boys want you there.”
“I’ll think about it. For now, you’re dismissed, Miss Templeton.”
He’d dismissed her from his presence every time she’d ventured into his study, but this time, it was different. Instead of his usual abruptness, this time he sounded…sad, and her heart gave a wrench in her chest.
Why had this come to matter so much to her? When did it become as much about Lord Hawke as it was about Ryan and Etienne? “Yes, my lord.”
She paused, but he didn’t turn around when she opened the door. Once she was on the other side she leaned back against it, touching her fingertips to her lips. She didn’t have any more answers than she had when she’d entered the study.
Only more questions.