The Governess and Mr. Granville. Abby Gaines

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ another woman possibly fill the gap in his children’s lives, if she couldn’t fill the gap in his?

      Serena’s gaze met Dominic’s. “If you’re questioning the wisdom of your plan to marry, believe me, the children will appreciate it.”

      Had she read his mind? Discerned his doubts? “Stepmothers are often vilified in literature,” he said lightly.

      Her lips curved. “Naturally, you should avoid those who plan to feed the children poisoned apples, who possess magic mirrors or who will force the girls to live among the cinders.”

      “Useful advice,” he murmured. “Thank you.”

      He noticed again the graceful length of Serena’s neck—she was so well covered that was all there was to notice. Other than her eyes, the blue of cornflowers. And her lips, rather full and rosy for a governess. From his own childhood, he recalled governesses with pursed lips and tight mouths.

      “It seems strange you’re such a firm proponent of my remarrying,” he said, his eyes still on her lips, “yet you’re in no hurry to enter the matrimonial state yourself.” That’s what she’d said, when he’d accused her of proposing to him. He grimaced at his own conceit, and dragged his gaze back up. “Most women of your age and connections would be eager to launch themselves into London’s marriage mart, rather than rusticate with my children and my sister.”

      Serena shrugged, a delicate lift of her shoulders. “I can’t speak for most women, only for myself. And your situation and mine are not at all alike—I don’t have children who need a father. I shall marry when I find a man who loves me with all his heart.”

      A silence fell, during which they both stared at Louisa, now sleeping, her breathing loud.

      “You don’t have a suitor back home?” he asked.

      She looked away. “No.”

      Another silence.

      “About Mrs. Gordon...” she began.

      “Serena, could you set aside your objections to Mrs. Gordon for now?” he asked. He realized he’d used her Christian name. She blinked, whether at his familiarity or his plea, he wasn’t sure. “After all, we have no reason to believe the lady will have the slightest interest in marrying me.”

      Serena looked him over, so quickly he could have missed it.

      “If you say so,” she said.

      Something hung in the air between them. Something that to Dominic felt like She thinks I’m handsome.

      “I mean, how does one even introduce the thought of marriage?” he asked quickly, distracting her from any possibility of reading his mind, which had taken a turn for the absurd. His conceit was still alive and well, it seemed! “I’ve spent years making it clear to the world that I don’t intend to marry.”

      The first few years after Emily died, women had made their interest plain, some of them while he was still in mourning.

      “There’s a simple way to convey your change of heart to everyone who needs to know,” she said. “Tell your valet your intentions.”

      “Trimble would never—” Dominic broke off, seeing her readiness to disagree. No point encouraging her to argue. Even if those arguments were as exhilarating as they were irritating. “I’m prepared to try your suggestion,” he said generously. “But I have more faith in my valet’s discretion than you do.” In a way, he hoped Trimble would say nothing. Though the world needed to know, Dominic quailed at the thought of reversing the impression of confirmed bachelorhood he’d worked so hard to create.

      Of course, if he wanted a wife of good birth, conveniently located and who liked his children, Miss Somerton herself was eminently qualified.

      “I commend your reluctance to wed,” she said surprisingly. Surprising given that the whole thing had been her idea. “Your loyalty to your late wife is admirable.”

      It struck him that her admiration was a thing some men might covet. Before they realized how argumentative she was. No one would want a wife so provoking.

      “Emily and I loved each other from childhood,” he said. What an odd conversation to be having with a near stranger. Something about the lateness of the hour, the flickering shadow of the candle on the wall, invited confidence. It seemed he wasn’t immune to midnight madness, after all.

      Madness or no, she needed to understand this one thing about him. He fixed his gaze on the wavering shadow. “When I was thirteen, and Emily was twelve, I told her we would marry one day. Neither of us faltered in our determination. We were married a week after she turned eighteen, and the twins were born a year later. We were happy every day we were together.” He ran a hand around the back of his neck, suddenly tired. “I don’t believe a person finds a love like that more than once in their life.”

      “I hope and pray you’re wrong,” Serena said.

      Something in her tone put him on the alert. It sounded personal. As if she, too, had loved and lost. He would have said twenty-one was too young to be seriously brokenhearted, but of course, he and Emily had been married three years by the time Emily was of age. He wondered who Serena...

      He dismissed the thought. Likely she was moved by his own tale, not referring to a doomed romance of her own.

      The silence grew awkward. Serena broke it.

      “How will you determine if Mrs. Gordon is fit to be your children’s stepmother?” she asked.

      “She’s a woman of good sense and few expectations,” he said. “I consider that an excellent start.”

      Those cornflower eyes widened. “Oh, dear, she sounds rather uninspiring.”

      He couldn’t help it; he groaned. “If by uninspiring you mean calm and reasonable...”

      “That must be what I mean,” she said with that now-familiar mischievous twinkle.

      “Her lineage is impeccable,” he said. “If not as elevated as your own.”

      “I can’t help feeling Mrs. Gordon has attained the position of front-runner merely by coming from a good family and living close by,” Serena said. “Is your aim to make the nearest choice or the best choice?”

      He refused to rise to that bait. “Since this will be a marriage of convenience, proximity seems a logical criterion.”

      “What about whether she adores your children?”

      Adores. What a word to use.

      He straightened the storybook sitting on the chest of drawers next to the bed. “She will need to care about the children, of course. And to know how to nurse them and employ a governess and, when they’re older, introduce them to the world. She’s a mother already, so I’m sure she knows these things.”

      “Hmm,” Serena said. It wasn’t a sound that expressed confidence in Dominic’s judgment. “What other qualities should the future Mrs. Granville possess?”

      Like most of her questions, this one fell into the none-of-her-business СКАЧАТЬ