Free Shev by Tracey Devlyn Page A

at Anne to see what type of reaction he could elicit.
    As for Anne, she listened, allowing the normality of the evening to wash over her. Partway through the meal, she realized the pleasant sensation she was experiencing was happiness. Unrestricted happiness.
    And in a dangerous moment, she understood what it would feel like to have a family of her own. Something she had never allowed herself to think upon before.
    The realization should have sent her ricocheting back behind the shield of her reserve, but it didn’t. In fact, the knowledge warmed her. Settled her. Branded her.
    One day, she would have a husband, a child—or two, a mother-in-law, a home of her own, and more. She would have a life where she looked forward to every waking hour. Where she would play with her children and lie in her husband’s loving arms, all night, every night.
    An image of her and Lord Shevington tangled in luxurious sheets and straining limbs burned in bright detail in her mind’s eye. She didn’t shy away from the forbidden fantasy. Something within her had shifted today. Something she couldn’t let go.
    Acceptance, she thought. Acceptance of her heart’s desire. “Dear God, I love him,” Anne whispered. She loved Lord Shevington—Marcus. How it had happened in such a short amount of time, she didn’t know. After all, she still did not know him all that well. But the simple act of admitting her feelings aloud lifted the last dregs of uncertainty from her mind.
    However, Anne’s pragmatic side recognized that she wasn’t the first governess to lose her heart to the master of the house, nor would she be the last. She would cherish the time they had together. At the end of her three months, she would search for employment elsewhere and pray for the strength she needed to survive a life without him.
    After retiring for the evening, Anne pulled the pins from her hair and brushed the fine strands with long, even strokes. She loved this time of the night when the household quieted, her thoughts grew sluggish, and her muscles relaxed their brutal hold.
    Lost in the repetitive motion, Anne failed to hear the click of her door opening and the soft tread of footsteps that followed. She didn’t become aware she was no longer alone until she felt a gentle tug on her hair.
    Anne jolted at the contact.
    “Jolis cheveux.”
    She swiveled around to find Jacqueline, standing barefooted in her nightclothes, a look of wonder on her sweet face.
    “Is everything all right?” Anne asked.
    “I could not sleep.”
    “Did you have a bad dream?”
    “Nurse was snoring.” She ran her fingers over Anne’s hair again, as if she’d never seen a woman’s hair loose before.
    Anne toyed with one long strand of Jacqueline’s locks. “Has anyone ever told you that you have very pretty hair?”
    Jacqueline shook her head.
    “May I brush yours?”
    The girl began to nod, then hesitated. “I have knots.”
    “That’s all right. I do too.”
    She looked at Anne’s shiny, smooth hair with skepticism.
    Anne laughed. “Not now, silly goose.”
    Rising, Anne held out her hand. “Come, let’s climb onto the bed. It’ll be more comfortable and I can reach you better.”
    They sat cross-legged, one in front of the other. Anne untied the ribbon holding Jacqueline’s unruly hair in place. After unwinding the thick plaits, she began brushing in long, hypnotic strokes.
    After several minutes of silence, Anne asked, “Do you miss doing this with your mother?”
    “ Maman did not like my knots.”
    Regret stung the backs of Anne’s eyes. Regret that Jacqueline had been denied this simple pleasure. Regret that she herself had lost her mother at an age not much older than Jacqueline.
    When Jacqueline’s head began to droop, Anne set aside the brush and scooped Jacqueline up into her arms. Jacqueline’s eyelids fluttered. “All is well.” Anne kissed her on the forehead. “Go back to sleep.”
    Jacqueline snuggled closer, not a care in the world. It had