A Governess of Many Languages by Murdoch Emily E K

Author:Murdoch, Emily E K
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2021-09-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

January 31, 1813

Was it possible for a gentleman to yawn elegantly?

If it was, Stuart had not yet mastered it. The best he could manage was to hide his gaping mouth behind his hand and affect a stretch at the same time.

It was not perfect. He was sure d’Allaire knew what he was doing, but the hour was late, the dinner had been sumptuous, and there was a bottle of whisky somewhere that was now empty thanks to his efforts with Bell.

Bell was upstairs like the rest of them. It was only himself and the d’Allaires in the drawing room. If Stuart could have his way, he would be upstairs, too. Upstairs in bed, a warm, comforting, soft place where he could close his eyes and lose himself in sleep.

Despite the flames roaring in the fireplace, the atmosphere was frosty at best.

Mary and d’Allaire seemed to have nothing pleasant to say to each other. Five minutes ago, when Stuart had made a passing remark that it was almost February, the married couple had taken it upon themselves to argue over when spring arrived.

It didn’t matter who was right. What Stuart hated was the coldness between them. As though they didn’t love each other anymore. As if they didn’t even like each other.

Stuart was no stranger to loveless marriages. His parents’ marriage had been polite but staid. An arranged marriage, as so many were back then. As so many were now.

Yet, they had come to respect each other, at least as far as he could tell. They certainly did not behave like Mary and d’Allaire. It was as though some terrible rift had come between them, unspoken yet felt keenly, and neither of them could move past it.

Blast it all. He wanted sleep, craved it, but the thought of leaving the two of them here to bite at each other’s tails….

He should have gone upstairs at the same time as Pomers. It would have been natural, and he would not have been stuck down here with the two unhappiest people in the country.

Stuart blinked away the tiredness and felt another yawn coming. Christ alive, he had to do better than this—but when it arrived, he had no other option but to feign another stretch.

Wiggling his toes near the fireplace, he fought the instinct to allow his eyelids to droop. It had been a long day; Mrs. Sutton had managed to force them all to go on a long country walk, and Stuart had been almost entirely unable to escape her, worst luck.

All he wanted was bed. Well, not quite. All he wanted was to bed Elizabeth.

“Sometimes I want to do things that are frowned upon.”

Stuart straightened in the armchair. He had to stop this. Stop hoping she would be around every corner. Stop wondering why he hadn’t seen her beauty in the first place.

The governess was out of bounds. Any governess would be, but the governess he had acquired for his friends, the governess of his godchildren?

Damnit, man. He needed to get a grip on himself.

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