Despite his attempts to calm himself, he must have made some small noise, because she looked up from her book and spotted him hovering in the doorway.
The pleasure on her face made his own heart spin like a top. But she seemed to catch herself and schooled her expression into something far more reserved. He wasn’t certain how to interpret this change, so he made his own countenance friendly but not excessively intimate.
“Your Grace,” she said, rising.
“I’m not used to it.” He moved farther into the room, glad his cockstand had subsided. “Hearing you call me Your Grace.”
“Everyone else does,” she noted.
“It sounds different on your lips.”
Their gazes held at the word lips.
Uncertain, he moved toward the bookshelves and ran his finger across the spines. “I don’t recognize all these titles. They’re different from the ones my tutor had me read.” He pulled out one of the books and regarded its cover. “A Guide to Mathematics For Inquisitive Girls.”
She pushed her chair back. He felt her presence draw nearer and nearer until she stood beside him. Other than yesterday, it was the closest they had ever been to each other, and he could smell soap and camellia flowers warmed by her skin. It was remarkable that his hand didn’t shake as he held the book up for her inspection.
“That one is a particular favorite of Maria’s,” she murmured. “She will make some important discoveries in that field one day.”
“There’s a difference between how girls and boys should be educated about mathematics?”
“For this particular text, no. I took pains to find the books that did not condescend to its readers. But some other treatises have no such scruples. They discuss things such as mathematics within a domestic framework.”
“The look on your face shows precisely what you think of such pedagogical approaches,” he said wryly.
She smiled at him, and it shot through him, gleaming like metallic veins through stone. “I’ve been employed as a governess long enough to know what particular methodologies I prefer, and which yield the best results. Particularly in my female students.”
He could only nod, too unsteady from having her so near. His attention was fixed on the delicate bend where her neck met her shoulder—at present modestly covered by a woolen shawl, yet the fabric gently draped in such a way that he could readily imagine the sweet, sensuous curve. His fingers twitched with the desire to pull back the soft cloth and press his mouth to the revealed skin.
He needed to speak to her, but words slipped from his mind, and he was caught in the current of his old hunger for her—now sharper than ever after his first taste.
Awareness of his own status caged him, as it had since his father had given him the farthing. Every day for the past ten years, the coin sat in his inside coat pocket, reminding him that he had to recognize and honor his responsibilities.
He hated the thought of hurting anyone—especially Miss Holme.
“It’s fortunate that you’ve come to the schoolroom,” she said.
He snapped back into the present moment. “How so?”
“We’ve something to discuss, you and I.” Her tone betrayed nothing, but that didn’t stop his heart from pounding, or his palms from growing damp.
After clearing his throat, he said, “We do.” He dragged in a breath, preparing to humble himself before her, but she spoke before he could.
“The girls’ schooling,” she said crisply. “As head of the household, it’s now on you to make decisions regarding your sisters’ education. Her Grace deferred to your father, so the responsibility falls to you.”
He exhaled, relieved it didn’t sound too serrated. “Whatever it is you have been doing—mathematics for inquisitive girls—you can continue on as you have. I trust you.”
She laughed, a short, ironic sound. “Surprising that you’d trust me, given what I did at the pond yesterday.”
He could immediately taste her, feel her, and this time when he let out a breath, it came out rough and serrated. Still, he could not ignore what she said, or what that meant.
“It is not an equal distribution of fault,” he insisted. “So long as you are in my employ, the culpability is completely mine.”
“Dukes are never culpable,” she murmured drily.
“This one is,” he said. “And you should know that your position as governess to my sisters is secure. I’ve given my mother complete control over your employment. I told her I would be too preoccupied with my new duties to be at all useful in the direction of their education. She was initially reluctant, but ultimately, she agreed to accept the responsibility. Anything I say to her regarding you or your work has no bearing on the security of your position.”
Miss Holme inhaled sharply, and her eyes went wide in surprise. “I’d no idea.”
“She and I conversed yesterday evening. I came up to the schoolroom today to tell you. And to apologize.”
He steadied himself. “I didn’t want you to think that your employment was at risk because of yesterday. You’re safe. You will always be safe here.” The farthing seemed to burn in his pocket as he spoke.
“Governesses surely lead precarious lives,” he continued lowly, “as women who earn their livelihoods far from home, vulnerable to employers and…” He swallowed. “Predatory men. But I will not be one of those men.”
He held his breath as she regarded him. She was in so many ways an enigma—one that continued to fascinate him, but he would hold true to his resolve not to hurt her.
Her chest rose and fell, and she seemed to wrestle with something. Finally, when he was on the verge of bolting, she asked, “Do you realize what you’ve done by taking me out of your employ?”
“Protected you,” he answered. “That was my intention. Was that not the result?”
“The result,” she said, taking a step toward him, “is that you’ve opened the door for more.”
Hope surged like a high tide. “More. Between us.”
She inclined her head, regal.
But he needed to hear the words. “Is that what you desire?”
“Desire is a wayward thing. It never obeys, the obstinate creature, and no matter how I command it, desire has a strong will of its own.” A corner of her mouth lifted. “For so many reasons, I shouldn’t want you. Yet I do, God help me. The idea of giving you an education in pleasure is…exquisite.” Her words were breathless, her cheeks were flushed.
“An education…” He flexed his hands. “Then I will be your student.” Just as he’d been yesterday in the woods. This time there would be no interruptions, no distractions. No imbalance. Only her, instructing him and giving knowledge.
She walked to the entrance to the schoolroom, shut the door, and turned the key in the lock.
The sound shot straight to his cock.
Her finger trembling, she pointed to one of the student desks. “Sit there for your first lesson.”
He rushed to sit quickly. It was a relief to take a seat because he was certain either his legs would give out or they’d turn into Roman candles and shoot him into the air.
“Do I take notes?” he asked. Excitement throbbed as loud as his heartbeat in his ears. He had not believed he could ever touch her again. Yet he would, and at her urging—freed from the constraints of should and should not.