Forever Yours (The Forever Series #1) Read online

  “Again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this to be a daily occurrence? For if that’s your plan, we have to change it.”

  “I didn’t think it would be daily, but my position here is so difficult.”

  “What happened? Has someone upset you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who? Tell me his name, and I will beat him bloody.”

  “It’s you, you ridiculous creature. You have upset me.”

  “Me! What did I do?”

  “You visited me last night.”

  “I’ll probably visit you again too.”

  She leaned in and whispered, “You kissed me.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sorry.”

  “I couldn’t sleep what with ruminating about it. Why would you proceed? What possessed you?”

  “You drive me wild, and I couldn’t resist.”

  She studied him as if he was the crudest oaf ever, and she shook her head. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I do. You fascinate me.”

  “But…but…you barely know me.”

  “True, but I know a lot about women. I know a lot about desire, and when I’m with you sparks ignite. It’s incredibly unusual, and it indicates we share a potent attraction. I’m eager to act on it.”

  “That’s the worst response you could have given me,” she said. “I’d like to stay and tend the twins for you, but you’re making it so hard.”

  “Of course you’re staying. It’s not negotiable.”

  He needed something from her. He wasn’t clear on what it was, but he wouldn’t leave her alone until he had some idea. With how the air sizzled when she was near, it seemed that Fate was throwing her at him. If that were the case, he’d be perfectly happy to catch her.

  Why shouldn’t they enjoy a flirtation? For goodness sake, she was a governess. By the very nature of the term, the females who chose the profession led tedious lives. They never married. They were never able to put aside any money for the future.

  When she was so beautiful, and she had so few options, a fling was precisely the cure she required.

  “You look so sad,” he said. “Don’t be.”

  “I’m not sad. I’m worried.”

  “About me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it you’re afraid I might do?”

  “I can’t begin to guess. I have no background that would provide me with any clues as to how a libertine such as yourself might corrupt me.”

  “Ha! You’ve just admitted you’re corruptible.”

  “I’m not,” she insisted, but her pretty blue eyes were anxious and troubled.

  “It will be all right, Abigail. Don’t fret so much.”

  “See? That’s exactly what I mean. You call me Abigail as if it should be allowed between us. You take liberties with me—even though you’re aware I don’t like it. I’m too weak-willed to fend you off, and I’m certain you’ll toy with me until you grow weary and fire me.”

  “I won’t ever fire you. There’s no transgression you could commit that would make me.”

  “I disagree. You’re exceptionally vain. It would be easy to dent your ego, and you’d demand my departure.”

  “You don’t have a very high opinion of me.”

  “You don’t deserve one.”

  “True, but in my own defense, I’ve rehabilitated myself quite a bit. If you’d known me years ago when my predicament started, you’d realize the differences are stark as night and day. Compared to how I carried on in the past, I’m actually steady and dull.”

  “You live openly with your mistress!” She threw up her hands in disgust. “You constantly host decadent parties where libertines bring their paramours rather than their wives. I don’t view that as steady or dull. You’re a scandalous man with a squandered reputation, and I don’t believe you can ever be fully redeemed.”

  “You shouldn’t let it matter. All of it transpired so long ago that it feels as if it happened to some other hapless fellow.”

  She glanced away again, appearing embarrassed. “I’ve written to Mrs. Ford to ask her advice as to how I should proceed.”

  “If she tells you to leave, will you?”

  “I’d have to. When she sent me, she must not have grasped the problems I’d be facing, and I can’t imagine she’ll permit me to remain.”

  A muscle ticked in his cheek. If she’d written to Mrs. Ford, he’d merely have to write too and post a faster letter so his arrived first. He’d assure Mrs. Ford he was delighted with Miss Barrington, and he’d double Ford’s fee. It would quash any impulse to yank Miss Barrington out of his clutches.

  “You’d quit on me?” he sputtered, feigning offense. “You’d quit now—when I need you the most? What a low blow.”

  “Oh, you don’t understand anything!” she protested. “Talking to you is like talking to a log.”

  “Yes, I’ve always been told that it is.”

  “Maybe you’re simply deaf.”

  “I’m not deaf. I’ve heard every word you said, and I don’t care to heed you. Not when you’re being so absurd.”

  She spun away to stare out again, and he stepped in and snuggled himself to her backside. He rested his chin on her shoulder and gazed across the grounds, and he took it as a marvelous sign that she didn’t push him away.

  “You’re so lucky,” she murmured. “You own all of this, and it’s so remarkable. Do you realize how fortunate you are?”

  “I do.”

  “Through all your difficulties, you managed to hold onto all of it.”

  “Not all of it. I lost my career in the army. That was painful, and I haven’t really gotten over it.”

  “But you kept this property. Were you ever afraid it would be forfeit?”

  “My lawyers convinced the authorities to levy a huge fine instead. The payments beggared me for awhile, but I’ve mostly recovered financially.”

  “Lucky again,” she mumbled.

  She was very distressed, and he wondered if she peered out at his park and it reminded her of the home she’d had in the past. Despite what she claimed, he was certain she’d once had a very prosperous, elevated existence. She was too extraordinary to have come from humble beginnings.

  “You look sad again,” he said. “How can I make you smile?”

  “I doubt you can. I’ve been adrift for many years, and I’d like to settle somewhere, to feel like I’m necessary, like I belong.”

  “Let it be with me. It can be. What is your other choice? Will you run to Mrs. Ford and have her send you to yet another family? No one she could find would ever need you as much as I do.”

  “I couldn’t abandon the twins where they’d be alone again with just you in charge of their welfare.”

  “I’m worthless. I admit it.”

  “They deserve better from you.”

  “You’re correct.”

  “It’s the only reason I’m still here this morning. If I left, what would become of them?”

  If the twins could provide the lock that would keep her in place, he was happy to use them. “I agree. What would become of them?”

  “I think I hate you,” she said.

  “Hate me?” He scoffed at the very idea. “You don’t hate me. You’re crazy about me. I overwhelm you which means you’re terrified by how you act when you’re with me. It’s what’s vexing you. You’re afraid of what will happen if you stay.”

  “Yes, I’m absolutely terrified.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and turned her so she was facing him and he could kiss her as he’d been dying to do since he walked into the room. She groaned with what might have been despair, and he couldn’t stand that he made her so miserable.

  She should be delighted by his interest! She should be celebrating!

  Perhaps she was too worn down from worrying about him to engage in another battle. Perhaps she’d recognized she couldn’t win against h
im. Or perhaps—just perhaps—she liked him very much and was starting to accept that it was all right to be besotted.

  In the entire history of kisses, it wasn’t much to brag about. He didn’t stroke his hands over her person, didn’t caress any of her private parts. He simply held her close and sampled her lovely, delicious mouth.

  He couldn’t say how long they continued, but it was a sufficient amount of time that he should have grown bored and been eager to pull away. Yet to his great surprise, the more he kissed her the more desperate he was to persist. He’d like to have kissed her all evening and far into the night. He’d like to never stop.

  Ultimately, she was the one who drew away, and her expression was even more distressed than it had been earlier.

  “We shouldn’t have done this,” she said.

  “Probably not, but I don’t regret it.”

  She snorted. “You never regret anything.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Well, I regret it, and I shouldn’t have participated.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It was extremely pleasant.”

  “But I wanted it to be horrid!” She was practically wailing.

  “Horrid?” He chuckled. “What is wrong with you?”

  “I thought if I kissed you again, it might answer a question for me.”

  “What question was that?”

  “I was so shocked when you visited me last night, and I’ve struggled to figure out your motive. I decided to try it again to discover if…ah…” She broke off, her cheeks flushing a bright shade of scarlet.

  “To discover if you liked it?”

  “Yes,” she glumly confessed.

  “And you really liked it.”

  “Yes, so where does that leave me?”

  She was so wretched, and he was a tad flustered himself.

  He had a house full of guests and a long-time mistress who was jealous and possessive and who—that very moment—was likely searching for him and wondering where he was.

  Why was he lurking in his library and dallying with his governess?

  His behavior was confusing, but it had been sweet and amazing, and he would do it again as soon as he could sneak away. Damn the consequences.

  “I’d better go,” she said, and she eased out of his arms. “I have to get back to the cottage. The girls are expecting me, and we’re having a picnic down at the beach.”

  “That sounds fun.”

  “I couldn’t bear to disappoint them.”

  He nodded and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Abigail. You’ll be good for all of us.”

  “I’ll see you…tomorrow, I guess.”

  She looked completely disordered, as if her knees might give out. He wouldn’t have judged her to be a trembling ninny, and while he’d trifled with many women he knew his kisses weren’t that overwhelming. What had agitated her so completely?

  He hoped it was his magnificent, splendid self, but doubted it was.

  “You’re in a definite state, Abigail.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Would you like me to drive you in the carriage?”

  “No, no, I’m fine. I’ll walk.”

  “You’re not in any condition to walk.”

  “I am. I just need to…reflect.”

  “Reflect on what? Don’t even think about telling me again that you have to resign. We’re not having that discussion on a daily basis. Remember? I won’t listen.”

  “No, I won’t resign, but I have to consider what I’m doing and what I want.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you so much? If so, I can supply the answer: You need me in your life. We’ll engage in a perfectly private, very satisfying flirtation, and it will make you very, very happy.”

  “If that’s true, why have I never been more miserable?”

  She ran from the room. He nearly chased after her, but it dawned on him that he shouldn’t race through the house like a madman. He calmed his breathing, then turned to stare out at the park.

  Once she grabbed her bonnet at the front door, she’d pass by on her way to the woods. He’d be able to watch her without her suspecting he was.

  In fact, he thought he might follow her in a bit. She and the twins were having a picnic. Why couldn’t he happen by? It was his beach. He could certainly stroll past and they’d have to invite him to join them.

  But when he looked outside, he didn’t see Abigail. Price was there instead, standing in the garden and staring back at him. When Alex had enjoyed his lengthy embrace with Abigail, they’d recklessly positioned themselves right at the window where anyone could observe them.

  From Price’s grim expression, it was clear that anyone had been his best friend. Alex shrugged a sort of apology but, his disgust obvious, Price scowled and stomped off.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Do you think we’re smart, Miss Barrington?”

  “Very smart.”

  Abigail smiled at the twins, being careful not to let them note how sad she deemed the question to be. They were so adorable, and when she compared them to some of the dolts and monsters she’d taught over the years, they were veritable geniuses.

  They’d had such limited attention in their lives that they were extremely insecure and constantly sought to be reassured. Were they smart? Were they pretty? Were they tall? Were they talented? They were so desperate to be liked it nearly broke her heart.

  She always answered yes to every query, and she didn’t really have to lie. Though none of their prior governesses had stayed for long, they’d imparted quite a bit of knowledge. Or perhaps the twins were simply very clever and learned fast.

  Their lessons were finished for the day, and they were on the beach behind the cottage. They’d brought a blanket and a basket of food, and they were loafing on the blanket.

  They’d finished their meal of bread, cheese, and fruit, with the cook including a custard pie he’d claimed was the girls’ favorite, and Abigail had been charmed by the gesture. All the servants were kind to them and seemed to be aware—as the Wallace family members weren’t—of how badly they’d been treated.

  People indulged them in small ways that made her happy.

  “Will you wade with us, Miss Barrington?” Mary asked.

  “Please do,” Millie said.

  “The water is too cold. I’ll sit and watch the two of you though.”

  “Will you take off your shoes at least?”

  “And have my feet bare?” Abigail acted as if she was shocked by the notion.

  “Yes, yes!” they chimed in unison, and they were giggling. “Have your feet bare!”

  “What if Mr. Wallace saw me? How would I explain myself?”

  At her referring to Mr. Wallace, they sobered and Millie said, “He wouldn’t mind. He’s never angry. He wouldn’t shout at you or anything.”

  “That’s good to know. Since there’s no chance of getting myself into trouble, I shall remove my shoes.”

  They popped up on their knees and gaped at her, looking stunned, as if they’d never seen a woman’s feet before. She yanked off one shoe, then the other, then she reached under her skirt and tugged off her stockings.

  “What is your opinion?” she said. “Am I completely brazen?”

  “Yes!” they crowed together, and they were laughing and clapping.

  “You’ve painted your toenails.” Mary was almost in awe.

  “Yes. You won’t tattle to anyone, will you?”

  “No.”

  Millie gawked at the red color. “Would you paint ours someday?”

  “I might,” Abigail replied, “but it would have to be our secret. I doubt Mr. Wallace would like it.”

  “We would never tell him,” Mary solemnly insisted.

  “Then yes, we’ll do it someday. But you’ll have to earn it by studying very hard and passing all your exams.”

  “We will,” they vowed.

  Abigail waved them toward the water, an
d they scampered off. They strolled the tide line, their blond heads pressed close as they picked through seaweed to find shells and rocks that they would beg to drag to the cottage.

  A surge of affection and nostalgia washed over her. Her sisters, Sarah and Catherine, were twins too, and Mille and Mary exactly resembled them when they’d been nine. Whenever she glanced at Mary and Millie, she’d suffer a momentary disorientation as she would wonder if she’d somehow been transported back to that period in her past when they’d all been so merry and content.

  “Hello, Abigail,” a man said from behind her, and she didn’t have to turn to discover who it was. By now, she’d know that voice anywhere.

  She glared over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

  “Walking on the beach.”

  She glowered at him, but it was impossible to shame him.

  “Don’t lie,” she scolded. “It’s so annoying in an adult.”

  “Who says I’m lying?”

  “I do. I’m certain you’ve never taken a walk in your life.”

  “You might be correct so I’ll admit it. I’m following you.”

  “Why?”

  “As usual, I have no idea. When you were over at the manor, you mentioned a picnic and I haven’t been to one in ages.”

  She pointed down the beach. “The twins are with me.”

  “You announce their presence as if they have the plague.”

  “With how little interest you show in them, I can’t imagine why you’d force yourself through our paltry afternoon entertainment.”

  “What makes you assume I’m not interested in them?”

  “I observed their condition when I arrived. Don’t pretend to be a competent parent.”

  “Well, I’m not a parent so don’t admonish me. I’m trying my best with them. I hired you, didn’t I?”

  He sauntered over and plopped down next to her on the blanket. She’d forgotten that her shoes were off, her feet bare, and he avidly stared.

  “My goodness, Miss Barrington, what a scamp you are.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Your toenails are painted bright red.”

  “Ah! You dog! You’re not supposed to look at my feet.”

  She scurried to conceal herself with a corner of the blanket, but he reached down and stopped her.