Читать книгу The Governess and Mr. Granville - Abby Gaines - Страница 12

Chapter Four

The next morning, Marianne’s complexion was redder than usual—one of those inexplicable days when her face started off the color of the crimson walls in the breakfast room and stayed that way. Small wonder that, having swallowed the last of her baked egg, she took to her room to lie down with damp cloths on her cheeks, with a plan to play some solitary chess later. A devotee of the game, she had a board set up in her private sitting room.

Outside, a spring storm had blown up, lashing the windows and bending trees at dangerous angles.

Serena visited the nursery and found the children fidgety, snapping at each other. Louisa was feeling much better, but her mood was subdued.

“What we need is a nice game,” Serena announced.

“Can we slide down the banister again?” William begged.

“No, dearest.” Even though it was exactly that kind of day, and Serena felt so peculiarly unsettled that she’d have relished the chance to climb onto the banister herself. Not that she ever would, of course. “We’ll play dominoes.”

The children pounced on the suggestion, and the twins soon had the game set up. Luckily, it didn’t require much concentration, because Serena’s mind was busy elsewhere. Wondering at Dominic’s unguarded, late-night declaration of love for his children.

Not that he’d said anything as simple as “I love them.” Instead, he’d said, “I would give my life for any of them.”

She doubted he’d been thinking of the verse from John’s gospel: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” But she had thought of it, and had recognized a declaration of ardent love.

He would probably be horrified by her interpretation. What a pity that he should feel so much for his children, yet not show it in his words or deeds! During her eight months at Woodbridge Hall Serena had observed him as a cool, distant father. A provider and protector, but not a loving papa. When he embraced his children, she saw only duty on both sides.

Until last night, she’d assumed his behavior was a reflection of his thoughts.

She’d been wrong.

Yet she doubted even Dominic knew how much he loved his children. Given his attitude to love in a new marriage, he might not even want to know.

For his own sake, and that of his children, he needed to admit to his deeper feelings. And if this was another example of Serena deciding what was best for others...she didn’t care.

The game of dominoes came to an end, with William the winner.

“What shall we play now?” Charlotte asked, as the older children packed away the dominoes.

“Time for spillikins, I think,” Serena said. “Louisa, perhaps you could ask your father to join us?”

Louisa was hard to resist on any day. Today, when she was still pale from her sleepless night, even the hardest-hearted brute would succumb. Dominic was certainly not that.

“Ask Papa to play a game?” Thomas said, astounded. “In the middle of the day?” It wasn’t clear which idea he found more outrageous: that Dominic might play or that they might see their father outside the prescribed times.

“Why not?” Serena said. “He’s probably as bored as we are.”

Thomas’s expression said she had lost her mind, but of course, he didn’t contradict her. The Granville children were all, with the occasional exception of Charlotte, well-behaved, as they should be.

Serena escorted Louisa downstairs to the library, where Dominic usually spent the morning on his correspondence and accounts. She knocked on the paneled oak door.

“Come in,” said a mildly irritated voice.

He’d been deprived of sleep, Serena reminded herself. She opened the door and gave Louisa a little push.

“Hello there.” Dominic’s voice softened immediately. Serena could hear him smiling. “How are your ears this morning?”

Still holding the door handle, Serena pressed her own ear to the opening in an attempt to hear the conversation—only to stumble a moment later when the door was wrenched open.

She gave a little squawk of dismay, and straightened up.

“Eavesdropping, Miss Somerton?” Dominic asked.

So, in the cold light of day they were back to “Miss Somerton.” If not for the flicker in his hazel eyes of a recognition that went more than skin-deep, she’d have said their midnight conversation had never happened. And perhaps his eyes were just a little too fixed on her own, as if he wouldn’t allow them to stray. Last night, she was almost certain he’d been looking at her mouth.

“I apologize,” she said, slightly breathless. “I wanted to hear how well Louisa framed her request.”

“You could have come in with her.”

“True,” she agreed. “But then I couldn’t have observed you without your knowing.”

He gave a startled laugh. “That honesty of yours.”

“There’s no point pretending otherwise, when you caught me red-handed,” Serena said.

“A fair point,” he conceded. “And at least this time your ruthless honesty isn’t directed at my private life.” He propped one shoulder against the doorjamb. The casual power of the pose suggested he had the world at his feet, his to command or ignore. When he looked like this, the task of reforming a man so distant into a loving, playful father seemed an impossible fantasy. Then he surprised her by saying in a tone that wasn’t distant, “So...spillikins, hmm?”

Serena nodded. She tried not to sound too eager. “Marianne is resting in her room, so I thought I’d spend some time with the children. With such beastly weather outdoors, we’re looking for entertainments.”

“Please play with us, Papa,” Louisa asked, with plaintive sweetness.

Dominic swung her into his arms, a tenderness in his eyes that made Serena’s heart jump. This was more like it.

“If you insist.” His agreement told Serena just how worried he’d been last night. “But I warn you—” he set Louisa back on the floor and ruffled her hair “—I shall win.”

“Not with those big hands you won’t,” Serena said. Gracious! What was she thinking of, commenting on his hands? Besides, strong though they looked, the tapering of his fingers suggested he might not be entirely graceless.

Not at all.

“Miss Somerton, are you too warm?” he quizzed her.

Serena pressed her palms to her cheeks. Heat. Pull yourself together, my girl. “I’m quite comfortable,” she said.

The children were surprised but delighted when their father entered the nursery.