Free The Christmas Knot by Barbara Monajem Page A

face. “I thought you would feel the same way.”
    She shrugged.
    “We enjoyed ourselves, and luckily there was no harm done.” Except to my heart.
    “None at all,” she replied a little too fiercely. “You went your way and I went mine.”
    “And now fate has brought us together again,” he said softly. “Everything has changed, but can’t we enjoy a waltz?”
    ~ * ~
    Oh, God, yes—but she mustn’t let him know how much she wanted to do just as she’d done before. She wanted the music to inflame her passions. She wanted to follow his lead, to twirl and fly with the music, to go anywhere he took her, to succumb to him behind a bush, against a wall, in a bed…
    There were plenty of beds nearby. How dare he say she needn’t worry? Again, a ghastly thought stirred her—had he paid her in advance not for educating his children, but for gracing his bed?
    Very well, she would ask him. “Is that why you gave me fifty pounds? So I would feel obliged to—to give in to your advances?”
    His face darkened, and his hand tightened on hers. “You deserve to be slapped, Edwina. Fortunately for you, I never use violence against a woman.”
    “I shall take that as a no ,” she said, refusing to quail under that scowl. “You’re hurting my hand.”
    Immediately, he loosened his grasp. “I beg your pardon. As for your question, a decent employer does not tup the governess. Now that we have settled that small matter, may we please enjoy this dance?” He paused. “For Lizzie’s sake?”
    His expression was suddenly so rueful that she gave in, whether for Lizzie’s sake, for his or for her own, she didn’t know. She let herself go, let herself feel the delightful rhythm of the waltz, which Lizzie played with great gusto.
    “That’s better,” he said.
    Yes, but it allowed the rhythm of the dance to thrum in her blood, which coursed through her veins and set every limb on fire with pleasure and desire. It’s not only better, it’s dangerous. She kept her gaze firmly on his waistcoat, for her eyes would all too clearly reveal the arousal that beat within her, just as it had back then. She dare not smile, she dare not enjoy herself too much, and yet her lips curled of their own accord, and her body’s demands refused to abate.
    He was smiling slightly too, his lips parted, and longing and desire roared through her again at the memory of his kisses. She stifled a groan as they whirled up the room toward the pianoforte. She got hold of herself and sent a smile at Lizzie, who grinned back. Then they whirled away again for more pleasurable torment.
    At last the waltz came to an end. Richard let her go and bowed. “Thank you for the delightful dance, Mrs. White.”
    She curtsied, but no words came to her lips that wouldn’t reveal how shaken she was. She nodded and smiled again at Lizzie. “You play the waltz very well.”
    “I adore waltzes,” she said. “Will you please play so Papa can dance with me?”
    It was long before Edwina slept that night. How could she stay at the Grange, when her attraction to Richard had surfaced in such a powerful way? He’d said he wouldn’t tup the governess—such a rude way to put it, although she’d probably deserved it. She wanted to believe him, to trust him, but he had lied to her before.
    More to the point, why had the desire resurfaced so strongly?
    She thought she knew the answer—sheer loneliness. If she weren’t so bereft of loved ones, she would have more control over her emotions. But she didn’t have any loved ones and probably never would, so she would just have to control herself without them.
    Doubtless the approach of Christmas, her favorite season, played a part in her lack of self-control…
    Mortification washed over her. What was wrong with her, maundering on about her own troubles while poor John feared imminent death? Her loneliness was nothing compared to John’s predicament.
    Heaven help them all, it was only two weeks to Christmas. Two weeks to find