Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 19 continued:
(Today's blog is rather long...but I think it worth it. Do you?)
The next day, while the children were having lunch with Nanny, Carly decided to explore the house again. She would love to know more about this magnificent place and the individuals which had occupied it all these centuries. Houses like these were bound to have great stories: lovely romances, insane offspring, or ghastly ghosts. Until Ethel had left, Carly had felt that she had had her own haunting. She shivered with abhorrence.
Carly’s explorations were showing her just what an amazing place Huntington Manor was, as if she hadn’t already come to that conclusion. In the middle of a remote hallway, she came to a halt before two magnificently carved doors. She thought to herself, this must be the ballroom, and said aloud, “I simply have to see.”
Opening one of the huge double doors, it creaked hauntingly as she peeked inside. There was only one set of draperies which had not been completely closed, lucky for her; but it was enough light to show her a very grand room indeed. Quietly tip-toeing over to the sun-lit window, Carly flung the draperies wide. Light flooded the dance floor and dust danced and swirled playfully in the sudden beam of sunshine. Seeing the intricate cut floors extending down the ballroom, she gasped in delight. She regretted doing so, for the dust that was settling upon the magnificent floors was now invading her lungs. She began to cough.
Never before had Carly been in such a large room. Deciding that she liked the color combination of pale yellow walls and deep cranberry draperies, she wound the curtain around her waist, pretending as if she were wearing the most insanely beautiful gown. She imagined the room filled with guests, a ball in full swing. She giggled with luxury. She would explore more.
Carly looked up noticing the enormous chandeliers carefully covered. They reflectively sparkled where exposed to the light. Incredible artwork was displayed upon the ceiling above, showing off the richness of this grand room. Pulling another drapery chord to better see, she glimpsed the furniture that was covered with huge cloths, peeking to see cranberry upholstered furniture as well. Here and there, paneled walls displayed detailed murals from nature. Large encrusted crystal sconces were hung between each of these panels, light dazzling in rainbow hues upon the walls.
Looking behind another drapery, she discovered a fabulous set of French doors. Gazing out through the enormous glass panes, she saw they lead to an exquisitely manicured terrace. In her mind’s eye, she again imagined impeccably dressed guests strolling by, arm in arm, enjoying their evening. Immersed in her daydream, the coolness of the glass upon her hand pulled her back to reality. She sighed, fogging the glass, disappointed her dream had not been real. The sun warmed the glass quickly, melting the fog away. Carly continued her perusal out the window. Her next survey showed the terrace ending with a majestic staircase descending to splendid gardens below. As if this very room wasn’t enough, such grandness, craftsmanship and beauty astonished her completely. Turning around, she rested her back against the glass door, gazing longingly at the ballroom. Blinking dreamily, her thoughts continued; thoughts of a glorious ball
Why should she care about such silly things? Why even dream? Such gloomy thoughts did not become her. Smiling beguilingly, Carly’s mind worked again on happier imaginings. All of a sudden, she glided out onto the ballroom floor as if she were a ballerina. Twirling round and round, waltzing with an imaginary partner, she looked this way and that in a dance, her abundant pale yellow skirts swirling about her tiny figure. Finished, Carly’s skirts billowed out as she sank into a slow, provocative curtsey.
Carly startled when she heard slow, precise clapping and quickly stood with her hand to her breast, horrified. As Lord Huntington made his way to her side, she worried out loud. “I do hope it is all right?” After the incident at the lake, and again at the cottage, Carly was not sure where she could go without his wrath coming down upon her.
But Lord Huntington was different today.
His boldness startled her as he took her tiny waist in one strong arm, making her gasp. He took her hand placing it upon his broad shoulder. Her other hand he took and extended with his own. Looking down into her eyes, he captured her gaze so that she dare not look away. She was afraid, and yet something within her ignited at his warm touch.
In his deep voice, he commanded, “Shall we?”
Without waiting for her response, Lord Huntington maneuvered Carly into a waltz. Around the ballroom they danced to the music of imaginary musicians, but the only thing heard were her skirts swishing and their feet moving, in time together, on the highly polished floor. Powerful arms carried her through the waltz as if she were flying instead of dancing. Lord Huntington was a very fine dancer. It was awkward for Carly to meet his eyes, but again and again their eyes locked. His dark eyes were intoxicating, penetrating. Her heart pounded vigorously, her lungs scarcely took breath. His hand on her back held her close enough to him that she could feel his warmth, capture his musky scent.
Slowing smoothly, gracefully, till they came to a gentle stop, Lord Huntington deliberately bowed in a courtly manner as she, again, sank low into her provocative, precisely-practiced, curtsey. Still holding her hand, he helped her to stand, all the while looking intently into those gentle green gems that were her eyes. Not letting go, he carefully, purposefully bent over her hand, lingering, gently placing a kiss upon her soft ungloved hand. Hearing the intake of her breath, he knew he had surprised her. Slowly, he stood, absorbedly watching her eyes. They were wide open, easy to read; her berry lips barely parted, her breathing coming quickly.
Hiccup.
Creighton noticed that Miss Blakemore did this quite often in his company. Did he truly make her so nervous? Her sweetness moved him. Deeply.
His own eyes sparkled as he spoke in his deep, reverberating voice, saying, “I cannot wait to see you in the ball gown that Miss Thompson is making for you—at my request. I hope you will be pleased.”
Trying to catch her breath, and dare not hiccup again, she faltered, “I…I…thank you for the beautiful new wardrobe and for…for Miss Thompson’s fine talents being shared with me…my lord.” She blinked several times, suddenly feeling faint.
“You have a naturally grateful heart. I know that about you.” Bowing his head graciously, he said, “You are very welcome.”
Nothing could have prepared her for this moment as he gave her the most glorious grin she had ever seen in her life. He was stunning! Perfect white teeth surrounded by pale masculine lips—and a dimple she had never noticed before. Sadly, it was gone before she could get her fill of it.
“Is this lovely gown that you are wearing new?”
Gulping, her throat gone dry, she answered in a cracked voice, “It is, my lord.” She blushed, squelching a hiccup.
“I must say that it is most flattering…upon…you.”
He grinned enticingly again, her desire to touch his dimple overwhelming.
He continued his conversation, aware of his affect upon her. “I think it a fine decision to have new gowns made for you.” His voice crooned over her.
She could not comment, her voice stuck in her throat. Who was this new Lord Huntington? Finally, she was able to nod, only once. This master of hers—he was so devilishly handsome. His finger caressed under her chin sending a ribbon of shivers throughout her body. Her intake of breath frightened her. What was she feeling? It was so foreign. So—so delightful!
And then all at once, Lord Huntington gave her a slight bow and walked across the floor with his brusque stride and was gone.
Standing there astonished, she stared after him as if he were a ghost, not actually having been present. Had she imagined he was here, dancing with her, holding her close, kissing her hand?
Carly thought to herself with a dreamy sigh, if he was a ghost, she would surely desire to be haunted by him.
Sigh... I love this part.
Ellise
