An Improper Governess: An Improper Liaisons Novella, Book 2 Read Free

taste, Regina Barsby flapped her pale hands about her throat as she struggled to string a coherent thought together. Until she fixed a decidedly annoyed gaze on the governess. “And what, pray tell, are you doing with Miss Adams? Is she hurt?” she demanded in a tone sharp enough to cut crystal.
    Nicholas swore the young woman’s body bristled with irritation and when he glanced at her, he detected a militant glint in her hazel eyes as she pushed a dripping lock of brown hair away from her face. She clearly took exception to being spoken about rather than addressed directly as she responded to Regina’s question before he did.
    “I got caught in the storm, Lady Barsby,” she explained in a tone that was distinctly firm rather than conciliatory. “Sir Nicholas... Well, he helped me reach the Hall safe and sound.” Turning her direct gaze back to him, she lifted her chin. “Sir, if you would just put me down—”
    “The term ‘sound’ is debatable,” interrupted Nicholas. “You almost fainted not two minutes ago.” Returning his attention to Regina, he said, “Summon Mrs. Graham and instruct her to have the servants draw a bath for Miss Adams.” He caught the governess’s eye again. “Now, which way to your room?”
    “Nicholas, is this really necessary?” argued Regina taking a few steps closer across the Turkish hall runner. “Besides, I really don’t think a bath will fit—”
    “Won’t fit? Good Lord, woman,” Nicholas snapped. “Where are you making Miss Adams sleep? In a bandbox under the servants’ stairs?”
    Miss Adams’s mouth twitched with the ghost of a smile. “My room is upstairs on the fourth floor. In the west wing above the nursery. Are you quite sure you don’t want to put me down now? I must be getting quite heavy.”
    “Are you questioning my virility, Miss Adams?”
    She blushed, but even so, her smile widened a fraction. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”
    “Nicholas. I will not have the other servants lugging a bathtub and umpteen buckets of hot water to the fourth floor, just because Miss Adams got caught in the rain,” fumed Regina. “What sort of message will that send to the staff?”
    Nicholas slightly adjusted the way he held Miss Adams in his arms and began to climb the stairs to the second floor. “I really don’t give a farthing,” he called back over his shoulder. “This Elizabethan monstrosity has more rooms than Carlton House. Tell Mrs. Graham to send the servants up to the Long Gallery. Miss Adams is going to occupy one of the guest rooms. I’m assuming the Amber Room is still habitable?”
    “Yes. But, Nicholas...”
    He ignored her. Perhaps he was acting like a sapskull for no other reason than Miss Adams was uncommonly pretty with the best legs and arse he’d ever seen. But damn it, his sister-in-law really shouldn’t have installed her in one of those cupboard-like rooms just beneath the attics. In fact, he strongly suspected she’d been given the wet nurse’s old quarters. He wouldn’t even keep his dogs there.
    “I didn’t faint you know,” Miss Adams said quietly as he entered the gallery on the second floor. “I was cold, and because I’m not much of a rider, my poor legs—”
    “There’s nothing poor, whatsoever, about your legs, Miss Adams.” He was behaving like a cad, and acting well outside the bounds of propriety, but he realized he enjoyed making the young woman blush. Which she did most deliciously after his flirtatious remark. By God, she had a fine complexion. All peaches and cream. He dropped his gaze to her lips, certain her lovely mouth tasted sweeter than honey...
    Christ, Barsby. Stop your thoughts right there. You’ll get a bloody cockstand if you keep thinking along these lines...
    Halfway along the corridor he paused before a door. “I might need to put you down.”
    “At last,” she muttered and he grinned.
    “What a wicked tongue you have,” he admonished with mock sternness as he gently set her on her feet.