Free Beauty and the Wolf by Marina Myles

grabbed a pelisse from her wardrobe. As she tugged it on, the image of Phillip pulled at her heartstrings. With china-blue eyes and hair the color of saffron, the eight-year-old boy possessed a temperament as sweet as his angelic appearance. Regardless of her plan to produce a genuine Winthrop heir to secure her position with Draven, her personal ache for a child was beginning to consume her. She had become a governess because she loved children, because taking care of others was in her nature. It was something she’d always done and a secret part of her had been anxious to wed Draven so that they may start a family.
    Isabella maneuvered down the steep flight of stairs at the back of the house. The stairwell was designated for servants but it was the quickest way to the fields.
    Nearing the kitchen, she was enticed by the scent of a soufflé baking in the kitchen’s oven. The smell made her realize she’d eaten very little during breakfast. After her ride with Draven she would ask Mrs. Tidwell, the head cook, for an early nuncheon.
    She took another step toward the kitchen but voices stopped her in her tracks. Isabella peered around the corner and listened.
    “I wonder if her ladyship plans to eat any more meals in her room,” Mrs. Tidwell said sharply. “My food doesn’t taste nearly as good after sittin’ on a tray.”
    “Lord knows,” Gwyneth answered between the clanking of dishes. “But I hardly blame ’er. Her ladyship doesn’t seem very ’appy to be back.”
    “I hope the master doesn’t scare her off again,” the cook said. “She’s a right angel, returnin’ to ’im in the first place.”
    “I ’ope she stays too,” Gwyneth added. “His lordship gave me a lift from kitchen-maid to abigail. If the countess leaves, I’ll be right back where I started.”
    “Right proud of any position, ye should be. My mother, God rest her soul, always told me: be respectful and hold fast to the position ye’re given.”
    Gwyneth dropped her voice to a whisper but Isabella could still hear. “I’m not one to gossip, but I overheard somethin’ shockin’ in the hallway. It was her ladyship accusin’ Master Draven of spyin’ on ’er during ’er bath.”
    Mrs. Tidwell tsked. “They’re a married couple but they don’t act as such. And I’d say his lordship is capable of much worse than spyin’. Did ye know that Master Draven spent three years in an asylum after his father died?”
    Gwyneth sucked in a breath. “My word!”
    “Not that I like ta gossip either,” the cook continued, “but I heard it was somethin’ besides his father’s death that put him there.”
    “Ye don’t say! Well,” Gwyneth stated, “he’s ’andsome enough to make me knees knock but he seems a bit off. I hear ’im wanderin’ the halls at all hours before ’e locks himself in the library. Then there’s ’is doses of lithium. . . .”
    “He’d scare me dead away too!”
    The two women shared a giggle.
    “I just wonder if the missus knows about his lordship’s madness,” Mrs. Tidwell said after their laughter subsided.
    Gwyneth sighed. “She’ll find out soon enough. Well, can’t spend all mornin’ jabberin’ in the kitchen. I’m off to tend to ’er ladyship’s room.”
    My God, Isabella thought. Even the servants suspected Draven of being a lunatic. I’m about to seduce a madman.
    She set herself into motion as Gwyneth passed her on the stairs.
    “M’lady!” The girl went rigid.
    “Gwyneth.” Isabella smiled. “I’m off for a ride.”
    The girl remained silent while her cheeks went pink. “Remember what I said about those horses.”
    “I remember,” she said gently. “Now please tell Mrs. Tidwell I’d like an early meal when I return.”
    “Yes, m’lady.”
    “Thank you, Gwyneth,” she said.
    Isabella continued on until she reached the fields beyond the manor house. They were a mess, just as she had anticipated. To add to her irritation, she discovered a wicked-looking horse standing