Friday, September 30, 2011 -- The Governess -- A Twice Weekly Blog

Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 17 continued:

Henry nervously shrugged his shoulders saying, “He disappeared a while ago when he saw…” Suddenly hesitating, Henry’s neck turned mottled, splotchy-red colors. 

            “When he saw what?”  Creighton was concerned at the young groomsman’s tentativeness. 

            “He saw one of the chambermaids beating rugs, my lord,” was all he could offer. 

            Understanding dawned upon Creighton.  He was aware that Henry watched his color rise in anger.  Nodding in appreciation of his obedience, Creighton said, “You are wise to be truthful with me always, Henry.  Thank you.” 

            “My lord,” nodding his head, Henry took a deep breath.  He began chewing a piece of grass again, probably too vigorously. 

            Turning to the cottage once more, Creighton was suddenly assaulted by old memories.  This place had a history that…well…he was getting furious just thinking about it. 

            He physically calmed himself before stepping forward, knocking upon the door.  Instantly, it got quiet inside before Lady Blakemore softly answered, “Come in.” 

            Lord Huntington stepped inside the cottage, and all three sets of eyes went wide, ready for the reprimand.  But all he could do was chuckle when he saw the sight before him.  Both Jonathon and Elspeth had a feather tucked into their hair holding an especially beautiful prisoner hostage.  Lady Blakemore sat tied to her chair.  Laughing quietly, he said, “Please, do not let me stop you.  Continue, by all means.” 

            Sitting down in a chair opposite of where they were playing in front of the fireplace, his stature filling the space, they only stared at him.  They could not seem to play anymore. 

He insisted, “Well—I interrupted you.  How is this going to end?  I wish to see.”  Jonathon and Elspeth looked at each other as if they did not know this man who was asking them to perform for him, but timidly they turned around to Miss Blakemore for guidance. 

Embarrassed herself, she was determined to conquer these feelings and make this an opportunity for father and children to spend time together.  Forcing her own nervousness back, she smiled encouragingly at both of them, and began wailing, “Please…no!  What will my poor children do if you take me prisoner?  Oh, help me, someone!  Please help me!” 

            Quickly catching up in the excitement, Elspeth exclaimed, “You must come quietly or we bonk your head with hatchet…” she looked over at her father with a coy smile.  Smiling back, he nodded his approval. 

            Carly said, “Yes, yes.  I will be silent.” 

            Carly and Elspeth looked expectantly at Jonathon as if it was his turn.  But Jonathon said quietly, “I…I do not wish to play anymore.”  Turning around, he went outside, shoulders sagging.  Elspeth followed him outdoors and sat down next to him on a fallen trunk, rubbing his back, taking the quills from both their hair. 

Lady Blakemore looked dreadfully apologetic towards Lord Huntington, “I am sorry my lord.  I think he was only being shy.” 

Nodding his head, he asked, “Would you like some help?  You look a little tied up at the moment.” 

Smiling in trepidation at his joke, she nodded in agreement.  “Thank you.” 

As he untied her, she said, “I hope you do not mind us coming here.  We were merely outdoors having our botany lessons when we came upon this darling cottage.  The children wanted to play house, and we lost track of time, we were having so much fun.” 

The anger that stirred quickly in his gut at this sensitive topic was too quick for him to smother, knowing even as he spoke that he did not mean to be so harsh, for how could she possibly know his reasons for feeling this way.  “I do mind, Lady Blakemore, very much!”  Now standing directly in front of her, he continued, “This cottage is off limits!” 

Off-limit cottages, rug-beating chambermaids...what does this have to do with making Lord Huntington angry?

Read with me on Monday!
Ellise

Friday, September 9, 2011 -- The Governess -- A Twice Weekly Blog

Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 14 continued:

Sitting together at their evening meal, Carly was intensely quiet after having seen her master’s state of undress earlier this morning.  Finding herself unable to speak, she ate in silence. 

            Creighton sensed Lady Blakemore’s distress and figured it was because of what she saw of him this morning.  But he only found it amusing. 

He enjoyed working the land, just as his fathers before him, alongside his tenants.  This teamwork had always engendered a trust that seemed to only strengthen relationships through each generation.  Some of the neighboring peerage, especially Lord Pembrooke, were outspoken over such vulgarity, annoyed with his arrogance of lowering oneself to such levels, but Creighton had always done what he pleased regardless of anyone’s opinion. 

            Finally, he said, “Did you enjoy your ride this morning, my lady?”  Smiling at her immediate discomfort, he fought back his feelings of guilt for making her so shy. 

            Shades of crimson crept up her throat while she stammered, “I…I did, my lord.”  However, she would not make eye contact with him.  No.  For she knew as soon as she did, all she would again see in her mind’s eye was his nakedness.  Oh dear, there it was!  Insistent in its presence, precisely what she was fighting to sponge from her mind, Lord Huntington invaded in all his glory.  Nearly choking on her meal, Carly tried, in vain, to stop her rogue thoughts.  Certainly her mother would scold her if only she knew.  

            “You have enjoyed the surrounding countryside, have you not?” 

            Carly coughed, choking yet again upon hearing his deep voice, insisting upon conversation with her.  Would he not shut up?  Taking a sip of water and clearing her throat, she calmly answered, “Yes, my lord.”  Still avoiding eye contact, she concentrated upon her meal as best she could.  “Mrs. Cooper has made a delicious meatloaf tonight,” she added, expertly guiding the topic away from dangerous ground. 

            But Creighton would not take her bait.  He had other things to discuss.  “Where was your escort, may I ask?” 

            All nakedness forgotten, Carly’s eyes grew wide as she realized her blunder.  “Oh dear.  I did forget again, didn’t I?” 

            “Yes,” he frowned.  “Please do not forget again.” 

            “Yes, of course, my lord.”  Her eyes went back to her meal. 

            He could have such fun with her.  He knew of her discomfort.  No.  He would not let this pass.  Too enjoyable to watch her squirm.  He was a rake.  After tearing a large chunk from the freshly baked bread and enjoying it for a moment, he said, “I believe you caught me off my guard today.”  His pleasure was instantaneous, for she was blushing while trying to calm her falling utensils.  If he were to share the laughter that was bubbling up inside, the entire room would be booming with noise.  But he would not.  The quiet worked much better upon her nerves.  He nearly smiled. 

After gaining control of her fork, Carly could only stare at her master, her face flushing brilliantly.  She felt like a fool.  Could she not control herself? 

Bewitched, he continued his play with her, “I am often found in such a state, for I fear I have no manners, something my mother has given up on long ago.” 

Was he smirking? 

She was sure of it. 

“I have shocked you, I see.  Unfortunately for you, I am sure it will not be the last time I am found in such a state.  You must allow me to apologize in advance for my ungentlemanly ways.” 

            His roguish smile annoyed Carly, brought to her some anger for which she could grasp hold of her misguided thoughts.  She quickly recovered by saying, “My lord, you revel in my discomfort, I believe.  I would ask that you at least try to remember that I am present.” 

            Mischievously grinning at her still, he said, “Oh…I am well aware of your presence, my lady.  I promise you that.” 

            As her face grew warm again, so did her irritation.  “Please, sir!  Do not tease!” 

            “Who says I am teasing?” 

That lopsided grin of his was distracting…

She was mortified that he rattled her so easily.  “I am not as naïve as you think me.” 

            Squinting his eyes in thought, he said, “That is debatable.”  He smiled his devilish grin, adding, “But I must say I do enjoy it.”  Taking another bite of his meal, he relished in the conversation, in her discomfort, in the debate.  It had been some time…  

“I also enjoy crossing words with you.  You have quite a temper.”   

            “You purposely mean to aggravate me, my lord,” she fumed. 

            “It can be quite entertaining,” he chuckled, taking a long drink from his wine glass, intent upon watching her fidget. 

            “You are insufferable!”  Carly threw her napkin upon the table, frustration apparent. 

            “Many would agree,” he simply stated. 

She must endeavor to control her temper better, she thought.  “This cannot be who you really are?” 

“Really.  And why not, pray tell?” 

Compelled to speak honestly, she said, “I have seen more from you, my lord.”  She had seen kindness and caring, gentleness and sensitivity. 

Suddenly uncomfortable with where she was going with their conversation, he harshly said, “And you think I care?” 

“Do you not, sir?” 

Sighing heavily in exasperation, his fun come to an abrupt end, Creighton said, “Lady Blakemore, you must know that I do, of course.  Let us be friends, shall we not?” 

Hesitating briefly, Carly said, “Well…  Yes.  We must…for the children’s sake, at least.” 

“And what of ours?” 

“What?  Well, yes, of course, I suppose.  Oh!  I don’t know!  You always seem to vex me.  It is most infuriating.” 

“At least you are a very honest person, I must say.” 

“I have no reason not to be.  Would you prefer lies?” 

Thinking back on a marriage full of lies and treacheries, he grumbled, “I have had my fill of lies to last a lifetime.  No.  I find your honesty…refreshing…stimulating.” 

Again, Carly began to squirm from his penetrating gaze.  Focusing her attention upon her meal, she tried to think of something to say in response, but she could not. 

“You find intimate conversation disturbing, Lady Blakemore?”  

“With you, of course.” 

“You have been in social settings, I gather, Lady Blakemore.  Yet you seem…unprepared to discuss life with the opposite sex.  Why is that?” 

“Simple, my lord.  No one has ever spoken to me as familiarly as you have.”  She was growing more upset by the minute.  “Furthermore, I have never seen any other gentleman half-naked…” abruptly cutting off, she gasped, blushing freely, feeling angrier at having blurted out such delicate subject matter.  “Oh, bother!”  Indignantly, Carly folded her arms angrily across her chest.  Pouting, she quickly hiccupped.  She rolled her eyes in complete and utter annoyance, disgusted with herself. 

Unexpectedly, Creighton chuckled at her embarrassment.  He said, “Come, come, my lady, do you not know how to tease but a little?  Surely, you must realize that I goad you?  You are much too easily upset by my taunting words.” 

Quietly standing, Creighton leaned over the table in order to speak closely to her.  Carly sat back in her chair, upset by his nearness.  Whispering his carefully chosen words, he breathed, “You are rather enchanting, my dear.” 

Standing uprightly again, he pulled his jacket firmly, smiling beguilingly down upon her. 

He left her alone to contemplate his stirring words as he exited the dining room, apparently finished with his meal. 

This makes me laugh!  ;)  I love Carly's nervousness, and yet, I can completely relate.  And Creighton is a complete rake!  Tell me what you think?

Thanks for reading with me today.  Join me on Monday for more.
Ellise

Monday, August 8, 2011 -- Twice Weekly Blog -- The Governess

Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 12:

The chapel was Home.  Carly enjoyed the intricate bible stories displayed in reds, yellows, greens and blues of the stained glass windows.  The dark pews showed signs of age as did the structure itself.  This chapel, she could tell, had been built by the Normans, probably the 11^th century, because of the style of architecture.  Doorways, windows and the hall itself displayed the ever-present archway.  Most Norman structures that she had seen or heard of were much larger, but this would be a favorite, especially because of the smaller scale. 

The quaint country chapel made Carly think of her father, as did the Sabbath day.  Even more so, the words of wisdom she drew from the counsel given gave her courage to face her week.  The vicar spoke of how trials could strengthen or weaken us.  It ultimately is our choice which course was chosen.  Carly thought of all that had happened in the past year and a half and determined, once again, to be strong.  Even her short time at Huntington Manor had been a stretch for her.  Surely her mother and father would wish for her to be a strength and help to this world, even in her small corner of it.  She must be this person they would wish of her to be. 

Carly felt many eyes upon her as she sang along to the hymns.  These were simple folk who lived and raised families in Dunford village and surrounding countryside.  Their curiosity was disconcerting, but nevertheless, expected.  She, herself, was a bit curious towards them.  Many smiled at her, and she smiled back at them.  She hoped she would make many friends here.  Her bench was filled with servants from the manor house, but no master.  She wondered if he ever attended, but doubted it.  If he did not come next week, she would ask him if at least his children could attend.  Hoping that he would allow them to, she also hoped he would not make them sit on the family pew.  It was hard enough to be stared at from here.  But maybe she would not be invited to sit upon that bench with the family? 

Returning to the sermon, Carly listened to the vicar as he explained passages of scripture.  She was thankful again that there existed men who wished to better know God and His ways, and help those, like herself, who did not always know the interpretation of such things. 

*******

Exasperated with her obstinate master, Carly argued, “I do not see any reason why the children cannot accompany me to church.  Why would you be against such a weekly excursion?” 

            “It is not a weekly excursion which I am against, Lady Blakemore.  I do not owe you any explanation as to why I do what I do.”  Lord Huntington’s jaw was twitching, working against his anger, anger that he struggled to keep in check. 

            “I think you can be quite inflexible, my lord.”  Carly had been shocked that the children had not come to church again today. 

            “You go on thinking that, if you wish, as long as you do as I say.  Good day, my lady.”  Lord Huntington walked out of the Great Hall directly to the stables. 

It's my anniversary today, so I'm late with my blog.  Thank you for reading with me.  Join me Friday for more.

Ellise ;)

Friday, August 5, 2011 -- Twice Weekly Blog -- The Governess

Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 11 finished:

As his own breathing calmed, his chest heaved a heavy, relieved sigh with knowing that his children were safe.  Dabbing at her eyes with his handkerchief, Lord Huntington said gruffly, “I have handled my fears poorly, Lady Blakemore.  I have quite upset you.  Again, I am in need of apologizing to you.”

Shaking her head, she exclaimed, “But no!  It is I who have upset you and am in need of apologizing!  I had no idea of the circumstances of your wife’s…death…”  Shuddering against him, she cried, “I am so, so sorry!” 

He wiped guiltily at her tears again. 

“I truly was watching the children.  I only lay down for a moment, listening to them laugh.  They were enjoying themselves so much.  I was just thinking about bringing a jar for the minnows next time…” 

He smoothed the tears off her cheeks as she struggled for control over her shuddering breaths.  He was aware that his feelings had changed abruptly.  What I would not do to comfort her!  To think that he was the cause of her distress was deeply disappointing.  He reluctantly stepped away from her, dangerously aware of how it felt to hold her in his arms.  

“Please.  I ask this of you.  Ease my troubled heart, and do not bring the children here again.” 

Blinking through her remaining tears, she stepped away, turning her back to him to gather her senses, hair and skirts twirling.  Watching as she momentarily composed herself, he heard her say, “As much as I respect you, my lord…” 

Interrupting, he carefully warned, “Lady Blakemore, please…” 

“…and…and as best as I can understand the circumstances and your fears, still, it is such a beautiful place, a place to be enjoyed, not to be avoided, and,” she became quiet, and whispered, “not to remember only death.”  Swiftly turning to him, she exclaimed, “I am sorry…but it is the truth!”  Wiping at her cheeks fiercely, embarrassed at her persistent emotion, she continued, “Wasn’t this tragedy two years ago?” 

His hands impatiently rested upon his hips, his anger boiling to the surface instantly. 

“They should be allowed to grieve and heal by replacing these sad memories with newer, happier memories of this place.  And you should too.”  Lord Huntington stepped away, turning his back to her.  “My lord, today you have given them another awful memory of this place.  They may not wish to come back.  Ever.” 

Spinning around, he shouted, “You make me crazy, woman!  Can I not give you an order and have it obeyed the first time?”  Grabbing her again, her hair wildly bouncing around her shoulders, he commanded, “You will obey me!” 

            Choking back her tears, refusing to allow them their freedom this time, she fiercely stated, “I must be allowed to tell you what I think is best for the children.”  She yanked her arms free of his hands, but continued.  He steeled himself for more of her explanations.  “If we both look to their best interests, I am sure we can agree on their happiest future by what we decide today.” 

            Groaning from exasperation at this tiny woman before him with her determination and strength of a fortress, he began again, raking his hands through his hair, as he answered, “If you insist upon bringing them to the lake,” he said through clenched teeth, “I wish for there to be…someone else present to help you watch them, at the very least.  You should be taking precautions, simply because…it is wise.  You never know what children might suddenly do.  Or worse, who is wandering about.” 

            Embarrassed that she had forgotten this, she said, “I am sorry that I forgot, my lord.”  Then impatiently, she questioned, “Why could that someone else not be you?”

            With frustration apparent, he sighed heavily, “You never give up do you?” 

            “Not when I think it worth the effort.  I see now what I failed to see before.” 

            “And what is that?” 

            “You truly do care about your children.  You do…love them.” 

            “Of course I do!  You have doubted that?” he growled, questioning her.   

            “I have,” she spoke softly, embarrassed. 

            “I see.”  Eyes narrowed at her blatant honesty. 

            Almost begging him, she asked, “Please, will you not join us on a picnic next week, say, Tuesday?  They both enjoy the outdoors so very much.” 

            “I have business that day with the Marquis of Southwickshire and a Mr. Stone.”

            “Perhaps another day then…” 

            Resolved to make her understand his arrangement, he said, “Lady Blakemore, I will leave the position of governess to you.  I will see you at our evening meal.”  Bowing, he turned, mounted his horse and was gone. 

*******

So, the little governess was getting herself into trouble.  Good!  Her worries as yet were unfounded.  That was all that mattered.  For Creighton was hers and no one else’s!  She would make sure of that. 

            Progress upon her new wardrobe was nearing completion, the London shops busy with her demands, but she would leave now nonetheless.  Something inside told her she must be on her way. 

            Thinking of her most intimate confidant, she decided to involve them in her little plot.  Yes!  They would be splendid!  They were, after all, just alike.  Always scheming to get their way… The perfect partner in helping her claim her deserved husband. 

            She laughed to herself, pleased with her plans.  She would be home soon…

Why won't Lord Huntington be more involved with his children?  And who is this secret woman plotting to have him?  And what can Carly do about either situation?

Thanks for reading with me today.  Join me on Monday for more.

Ellise ;)

Monday, August 1, 2011 -- Twice Weekly Blog -- The Governess

Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 11 cont'd:

Quickly, they ran back to the picnic blanket, frightened looks upon their young faces.  Carly sat up in time to see him jumping off his horse, quickly running toward them.  Seeing that he was furious, she had difficulty standing hastily in her gown, but soon stood before him. 

Grabbing her by the arms, he yelled, “Do you not know the dangers of children around water?”  Madly gripping her, he again yelled, “I thought I had left my children in safe hands, and now I am disappointed to find that I have not!”  After bellowing at her, leaving her confusion growing by leaps and bounds, he let go of her abruptly and bent down on his knees as he hugged both children to him at once.  They hugged him back, but Elspeth was now in tears.  Carly looked at the shallow waters at the shoreline perplexed by the perceived danger. 

“Jonathon, Elspeth, please…please walk back to the house at once.  I know it is a long walk, but I shall join you shortly.”  Watching them as they started quickly back to the house, they both saw Jonathon take Elspeth’s little hand to bring her comfort.  Lord Huntington stood, waiting until they were out of hearing range. 

He turned on her, fury boiling over. 

Carly’s hand was already at her throat. 

Standing inches from her, he spoke in a harsh voice, saying, “I have trusted the safety of my children to you, Miss Blakemore!”  The fear in his eyes made her step backwards, but he moved forward, capturing her arms not intending for her to escape his wrath.  “How could you be so careless?  I thought you were more vigilant than this,” he said more to himself than to her.  Dropping her arms, his hands raked through his dark hair back and forth with worry written over his face. 

Distraught over his behavior, she tried to be sensitive to his chaotic emotions, but could only reply, “Your children were safe, Lord Huntington.  I…I would never do anything to harm them.”  

“The lake,” he shouted, pointing at the water.  “You brought them to the lake!  You were not watching them just now, for I was watching you.”  Pacing back and forth, he asked with disbelief evident in his voice, “Did you not know that this is where their mother died?  Here, in these very waters?”  Grasping her arms again, he continued frantically, “They could have drowned, and you were not even watching.” 

With great shock, Carly trembled at this new information. 

Looking down upon her, truly seeing the woman standing here for the first time since coming upon their picnic, Lord Huntington saw her emotion growing, saw that she was violently trembling. 

Then, she burst into tears.   

Growling at himself remorsefully, he began to say to her, “For heaven’s sake…” 

Pulling her into his arms, he held her, resting his chin upon her head.  Noticing her hair was loose and hanging around her shoulders, his hands could not resist touching the sunlit tresses, trying to bring comfort to her.  “I have made you cry.” 

Instead of receiving comfort, the obviousness of his comment made her cry even harder. 

Stroking her long, beautiful hair, he felt repentant as she sobbed against his chest, her hands covering her face as if in shame.  He tried to give her his handkerchief, but she was too busy sobbing.  He wasn’t sure what to do with himself now. 

His outburst, his disclosure had upset her terribly, not having known previously how his wife had died.  How could I have been so careless, she thought?  Why has anyone not told me?  Will no one tell me the secrets of this house? 

How will this end?  Why such anger from Lord Huntington?  And how is it possible for Carly to stand up to him as she does?

Thanks for reading with me today!  Join me on Friday for more...

Ellise ;)

Monday, June 27, 2011, Bi-Weekly Blog -- The Governess

Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 10 continued:

Carly entered the study at the appointed hour.  With a wink, the butler, Mr. Thompson, closed the double doors quietly behind her. 

Carly felt herself tremble slightly as Lord Huntington stood, the look upon his face not enlightening her as to how he was feeling this early morning.  He held out his hand, inviting her to sit in the chair opposite of his expansive desk.  Carly could hear a clock chiming from somewhere nearby in the house.  She thought to herself, at least I am on time.  Huzzah!

Worriedly, Carly walked to the chair and gracefully sat down, holding her shoulders back and head held high.  Her simple crisp dark navy blue gown edged with miniature delicate white lace looked remarkable on her, at least in Millesant’s opinion.  She had fussed over her because of it.  The soft rustle of her gown’s fabric was heard as she sat down gently.  Looking slowly into Lord Huntington’s eyes, she hesitated only a moment, before being direct in her gaze. 

He was dashing in his charcoal jacket and grey pants.  Surely behind his immense desk, there would be the ever-present, highly polished black boots.  His chiseled, tanned face looked fresh against the crisp whiteness of his shirt and perfectly tied cravat, his presence immensely intimidating.  His dark eyes flashed under the black eyebrows that framed them handsomely.  His straight nose gave him that ever-present air of arrogance and superiority, but she would allow him his pride if he would only allow her hers.  Continuing to hold steady his gaze, she breathed deeply and carefully so that she would not faint. 

This girl unnerved him as no one ever had before, and it frustrated him greatly.  It was more than her beautiful curves and glorious tresses; it was her shy, gentle nature clashing with her determination to do what she felt was most right, which caused his heart to flip flop in his chest.  Noticing purple shadows under her eyes from apparent restless sleep, he felt guiltier. 

Shaking his head, he began by sitting down, “First, Lady Blakemore, please allow me to apologize for last evening.”  He studied his fingers for a moment before holding her gaze again.  “My behavior was quite…inexcusable.”  Barely making out his next mumbled words, he muttered, “Thank goodness mother was not here.” 

Closing his eyes just briefly, he sighed a heavy sigh, explaining, “I am not accustomed to apologizing, but, I wish to say those very words to you this morning.”  With eyes burning into hers, he said, “I am…sorry.” 

Staring at him with astonishment, but with great relief nonetheless, she whispered, “Thank you, my lord.” 

“I am actually surprised that you are still here.  I must say that I am pleased.”  She could see in his countenance, sincerity. 

She could not help but be sincere back, “The thought had crossed my mind.” 

His lips twitched.  Nodding briefly, he said, “I am sure it did.”  Pulling at his earlobe, he continued, “I believe an explanation would help here in this situation.  A little history lesson, if you will.” 

Carly nodded her head again in acknowledgment, still wide eyed.  Suddenly, she hiccupped, her nervous stomach churning.  Oh, please no!  Embarrassed, she covered her lips gently with her handkerchief.  Her attempt to calm her nerves made her a little pale, while the smell of ink made her a bit nauseous. 

Lord Huntington stood.  “Lady Blakemore? Are you alright?” 

Her fingers played with her lace fretfully as she said, “Yes, my lord, quite.”  Do not become annoyed, Carly!  Smoothing her skirt nervously, she stammered, “Please… continue.”  The change in him this morning was beyond belief! 

Her pallor concerned him.  Slowly, he sat down.  Continuing to watch her attentively, he explained further, “I will admit to you that I have had little involvement with my children in the last several years since…well…since before their mother died.  But I do care for them, very much.  I provide for their needs and wants and have made sure they are healthy and well-cared for.  Their mother was…was…”  

Lord Huntington suddenly seemed troubled, angry. 

His hand raked through his dark hair impatiently as he blurted, “She was unkind to them.”  He cleared his throat saying, “And so I have attempted to shelter them from pain or unkindness from caregivers…”  He randomly reorganized things upon his desk while he thought through his words, “…Shelter them from those that they would grow attached to that are unworthy of their love, you see.” 

His eyes, back upon her, penetrated her focus.  “It was my wish to carefully study you before allowing you to meet them.  They have felt the loss of love and affection acutely.  It was my desire to get a feeling for you myself, before exposing my children to you, and possible greater heartache for them.”  Looking sternly at her, he asked, “Do you understand?” 

Sympathetic perspective dawning a little, she said, “I believe I do, my lord.” 

“I do not expect you to agree with my methods.  However, I stand by them, and require you to as well, regardless of your disagreement.” 

Carly’s hackles were up.  Calm yourself…calm…

 “Now,” the conversation changed, “is there anything that you desire to say before we move forward?” 

Her nerves were shot!  What could she say?  I find you a loathsome pig, despite your incredible shoulders?!  She hiccupped again!  Oh, would her discomfort never end? 

Did she dare tell him of last evening?  The noises she had heard.  Why not wait to see how things go? she thought.  She shook her head, no.   

Creighton felt a weak moment of empathy for this shy, determined creature.  What must it feel like to be in her situation, in a new place with strangers organizing her life for her?  Pressing forward, he said, “I wish to know a few things from you first, before I have my children brought in this morning.” 

Gulping, Carly said, “Certainly.  So…you intend to keep me?” 

“Yes.  Of course.” 

Hope began rising in her heart, that she would, after all, get to be with these darling children.  The mad beating of her heart raced faster. 

Hesitating, he said, “I have sensed from you a strong, yet gentle and…loving nature.”  He cleared his throat.  “Would you be willing to share yourself in this way with my children?” 

So, that is what he thinks of me?  I am shocked!  “Y…yes, my lord, of course.  I will always be myself with your children.”  She could not stop her heart from pounding.  It felt as if it would burst from her chest. 

“Will you punish them?” 

“My lord?”  Incomprehension showed upon her face. 

“Will you withhold from them…love…if they do wrong?”  Intent eyes and something else—pain—focused absorbedly upon her. 

“What?!  Of…of course not, sir!  I would never do that!”  What was he thinking?!  “I do believe in discipline and would do according to my own conscience in that respect, but I do not feel that withholding love has ever helped anyone…be good…sir.” 

A look of relief covered his face, and he said, as he sat back in his chair, “I am awfully glad to hear that, Lady Blakemore.  Thank you.”  Wavering again, he continued, “This is my greatest desire from you that if you must discipline, do so with fairness…and love.” 

His words seemed so contrary to how he acted towards the subject of his own children.  Not being able to help herself, Carly blurted out, “I do agree.  But if you truly believe in fairness and love, how fair is the love you are withholding from them by being absent in their lives…my lord?”  Breathing hard, she knew this would anger him, yet it must be asked. 

Suddenly standing and looking upset at her over the desk, he could see that it had taken all her nerve to ask this honest question of him, for she was pale again, holding her handkerchief against her lips.  Angry, yet respecting her honesty—something different from women of his society—he sat down and rubbed his chin, his teeth gritted together.  Refocused upon her, he said, “You are extraordinarily honest with me.  I would have you be so.  But I must warn you that you wear my patience thin.”  Gulping wide-eyed, the young governess nodded her head.  Stating with no discussion about the subject, he said, “You will cease this line of questioning me.”  Eyes were firm and eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her.  Slowly, she nodded her head in reluctant agreement. 

What do you think about the relationship between Lord Huntington and Miss Blakemore? 

Join me on Friday for more from this scene. 

Thank you, as always, for reading with me today!

Ellise :)