Free The Governess Was Wicked by Julia Kelly Page B

from around her thighs where they’d held her in place and covered her body with his. She stroked a hand down his back. It was slightly slick with a sheen of sweat.
    “Thank you,” she whispered as her breathing slowed.
    He chuckled and raised his head to kiss her. “I should be the one thanking you.”
    “I haven’t done anything,” she said with a frown. “That can hardly be fair.”
    “You’ve given me more than you know.”
    He kissed her again, this one deepening into something longer and more lingering. The way his tongue moved across hers stoked the fire again.
    Finally he broke away. “I don’t think I can be on this bed with you much longer and not take advantage of the situation.”
    “I wish you would,” she said, pushing her hips into the hard, heavy length of his arousal.
    His jaw tightened, but he shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to risk that you might end up with child.”
    Everything he said was practical and logical—she couldn’t fault him for it—yet a darkness spread in her chest. Of course he wouldn’t want to get her with child. He was due to leave in a couple of months. This was a time for tying up loose ends, not creating new ones.
    He must have misread her silence for concern for he said, “Don’t worry about me. I have more than enough memories to satisfy me until I can see you again. I’ve an engagement tomorrow, but perhaps you’ll let me come to you Thursday.”
    She wanted to say no. She’d never been that women before—loose with her morals and even looser with her legs—but she supposed that was exactly who she was now.
    The darkness inside her grew a little blacker.
    “Yes. Come Thursday,” she said. “I will be here just as I always am.”
    He pushed up on his elbows and stared down at her. Concern edged his eyes, and yet after a moment he smiled and kissed her forehead. “I’ll look forward to it all day.”
    He dressed while she sat wrapped in a sheet on the edge of her bed, watching him. He moved with an endearing combination of elegance and frenetic energy. This was a man meant to be doing great things, traveling the world. Remaining a physician in London? That seemed too small a life for him.
    She tried to hide the sadness in her eyes, smiling when he fumbled with the knot of his neckcloth and had to do it all over again. Then he leaned down to kiss her good-bye and slipped out.
    Elizabeth pulled the sheet a little closer around her breasts and moved to her room’s one tiny window that looked out over the London street. A few moments later, he appeared and hailed a hansom cab as it rumbled by. As he climbed in, he glanced up at her window and caught her watching. He grinned at her, happy and unconcerned. Elizabeth forced herself to smile back and then pulled the curtains shut. She would check on the girls and then try to forget that she had so much more to lose than he.

Chapter Five
    It should go without saying that a governess should never find herself alone with a gentleman of any sort. No good can come of it.
    —Miss Carrington’s Guide for Governesses
    Nursing two sick girls who were uncomfortable and in pain was not for the weak willed. From the moment her feet hit the floor of her cold room in the morning, Elizabeth felt as though she was on the run. There were tonics to make up just as Edward had instructed, and cool washcloths to administer to burning foreheads. She supervised the chambermaids as they remade the girls’ beds, getting rid of sweat-sodden sheets for fresh ones. Then, around midday each day, Cassandra would begin to cry for a story. Elizabeth would put aside her modest luncheon of cold meat, cheese, and bread, and settle down in her rocking chair to read to them.
    All the activity meant she had very little time to think about what had transpired between her and Edward. Yet when she finally found a moment of peace, she couldn’t help the flood of memories and hopes that rushed her mind.
    What they’d done was wrong—or at