he gave her his most wicked grin. “Stop avoiding me.”
Her features registered surprise. Alex was tempted to kiss away the expression, but settled instead for a light brush of his fingers against her cheek before he strode back to the house. He’d learned what he needed to know—there was no point in scaring her off.
His sojourn in the country had suddenly become far more entertaining. If Elizabeth had the guts to keep that promise.
The Viscountess Grumsby didn’t know it, but she was torturing Elizabeth. The small house party was supposed to last a week. It was the morning of day three, and Elizabeth felt trapped.
She’d been on edge ever since Alex Bainbridge had galloped, literally, back into her life. Blast her awful red hair. But for it, he might not have recognized her so quickly. The moment she’d looked up into those mocking dark eyes, she’d been struck by both embarrassment and longing. This was the man privy to, and in some way responsible for, the most excruciatingly humiliating moment of her life.
And yet one look into that sinfully handsome face, one moment spent observing his obvious caring for his niece and nephew, and Elizabeth was once more lost. Only this time she couldn’t afford to humiliate herself. Her position depended on model behavior.
Decorum. Responsibility and decorum. She’d breached them once in her proposal to Alex, and once more in leaving home. A third indiscretion would surely mean her destruction.
And after their conversation in the garden last night, Elizabeth worried that indiscretion was exactly what the duke had in mind. If only the idea wasn’t so tempting.
If Viscountess Grumsby had any notion of the thoughts Elizabeth harbored toward her brother, she’d be cast out without reference. And while being a governess was not a life of luxury, Elizabeth was content, at least for now. The Grumsby children were sweet-natured and eager to learn and explore. The lord and lady of the house treated her kindly. Her own family had, thus far, left her alone. Eventually, Elizabeth figured, she would come up with a more permanent solution for her future. In the meantime, her governess’s work provided just the haven she needed.
Elizabeth sighed and closed the door to the nursery. She’d just turned the children over to their nurse for a midday meal and rest. The Grumsbys’ guests were gone on an afternoon outing. She could relax.
“I thought I’d never find you alone.”
Elizabeth gasped and turned. Her heart gave a little thud. There, on the stair landing, stood the man she’d just been trying to forget.
“Your Grace.”
“You can be quite evasive, Miss Medford.”
He sounded amused.
Elizabeth kept her gaze about six inches below his chin, unwilling to see the mocking expression she knew he wore. “I don’t know what you mean, Your Grace. My position here keeps me quite busy.”
“You haven’t been avoiding me?”
To answer she’d have to lie or reveal too much, so Elizabeth kept silent. She dared a quick glance upward. The look in his eyes told her he knew.
“Whatever happened to your promise?”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t believe I actually made that promise.”
“You disappoint me, Elizabeth.”
She disappointed herself as well, for the secret joy she took in his presence. Decorum, she thought once more, but the mental reminder was drowned out by the pounding of her heart, which had doubled in pace when he stepped near.
“Well,” he said with a slow smile, “it appears you have a temporary reprieve from your many duties. Perhaps you will humor me with a stroll in the garden?”
“I’ve just recently come in from the garden,” she replied, trying to keep from sounding peevish.
“I see. Well, perhaps you’d allow me to show you the library?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked instead.
“I might ask the same of you.”
The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “You haven’t—” She swallowed and tried again. “You haven’t told anyone what I did?”
“No. Though I do believe I am owed some answers. I am—how shall I say?—concerned, with what I learned last night. To the library, then?”
She was caught. After all, she’d promised, sort of, not to avoid him. He knew her secrets. She needed to keep his good favor. In all the years she’d hoped Alex Bainbridge would seek her out, she’d never imagined it quite this way. The bright side, she told herself, was that she had been meaning to look at the library.
“I would be most pleased,” she acquiesced, trying not to think about what exact answers the lofty duke thought himself entitled to.
He gave her a satisfied grin and offered his arm, as though she were still Miss Medford, the baron’s daughter, and not Miss Medford, governess to the nobility.
Feeling it would be churlish not to accept the gesture, Elizabeth placed her hand in the crook of his arm and allowed him to escort her downstairs and to the library. She already knew its location, of course, and was quite capable of conveying herself there, but for just a moment she chose to forget the past several months, to forget the vaguely threatening note in the duke’s voice or the fact that he’d once rejected her utterly, and allow this fantasy to play itself out.
It was the middle of the day and there were servants about. Surely no harm could come of this.
“Ah, here we are,” Alex said as he led her into a large, well-appointed library. Bookshelves, each filled to capacity, lined three walls. On the fourth, large mullioned windows overlooked the lawns of the estate. The chairs and chaises scattered about the room were designed for comfort. It was the perfect place to lose oneself in a book, or even just in thought.
“’Tis a lovely room, Your Grace,” Elizabeth said. “Thank you for showing it to me.”
He shot her a knowing look. “You wouldn’t be anxious to be rid of me, would you, Miss Medford?”
“Of course not.” It was a lie, and he knew it as well as she. She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. “You said you wanted answers. Well, here is your answer, Your Grace. That moment in the park was folly. A rash and unwise move on my part. I have never done anything else like it, nor do I intend to.
“As for the man who fancies himself my fiancé, I have never agreed to marry him—or anyone else, for that matter. I need this position, and I will work hard to keep it. Again, I thank you for showing me the library.”
He threw her a grin and swept a gallant arm toward the many shelves. “You’re welcome. But I’ve hardly begun. Here, now, what shall we examine first?”
She sighed. There would be no getting rid of him. Worse, there was a wicked part of her soul that rejoiced with each moment he stayed.
He bypassed a wall full of scientific texts, then stopped suddenly before a shelf of Byron. “Ah! I know.
