Gift-Wrapped Governess Read Online Free PDF Page B

holly tomorrow, pine boughs and mistletoe to decorate the castle’s hearth for Christmas. His sons had looked at him, expecting a refusal, but the bright anticipation in his new governess’s face was hard to deny.
    The quiet sound of music came from beneath him, the servants in the kitchens, he supposed, singing of Christmas hope and glory, the stars above and the Stanford property spreading out below as far as the eye could see.
    Star of wonder, star of night,
    Star with royal beauty bright
    Westward leading still proceeding
    Guide us to thy Perfect Light.
    Exactly here!
    What did Lady Seraphina sleep in? he wondered, for the bag she carried when she arrived had been small. Did she take her slumber in nothing at all?
    God, the woman was making him into a man he did not recognise. She had come as his governess, a position she had gone to great lengths to reassure him she wanted, and as the lord of the house he had a duty to allow her safety at Blackhaven.
    He was a gentleman who understood the responsibility of honour and power. She was here for the while it might take to send her onwards and he only wished that the swelling region around his groin might recognise the fact.

Chapter Four
    21 December
    S eraphina opened her bag and brought out the only other dress she owned. The white gown was beyond repair and she doubted that even Mrs Thomas with her varied skills could rectify it.
    Her sister-in-law, Joan, had given it to her as she had explained the difficulty in housing even one more family member. Seth Moreton’s gambling had taken a toll on everyone, she had lectured, when she had extracted the yellowing garment from the back of her wardrobe and handed it to Seraphina—a replacement for the one Bonnington had ruined.
    â€˜The man should be shot, of course. He should be hanged, drawn and quartered for his ill use of you, but who are we now to demand it? It is finished, Seraphina. Your brother is washing his hands of everything that was his birthright and you would be more than wise to do the same.’
    Bernard had not appeared, but Seraphina had seen her eldest brother’s shadow beneath the door in the hallway outside and she had known that he was hiding. Confrontationdisturbed him, but the thought of a penniless dependent probably worried him more.
    The Moretons had neither money nor land left and a city that prided itself in both would not receive them well. Joan had even refused the use of a carriage to take her back into London, reasoning that every pound was to now be counted if they were to survive the penury that would surely follow. Seraphina had left the house and walked the mile into town, her hat pulled full down across her face so as to avoid any notice.
    There had been marriage proposals, of course. Her first Season had been awash with offers, but her father had demanded she wait for the one that could not be refused and when his own foolishness had tarnished their name, all promises had been quickly withdrawn.
    Even before Bonnington she had been an outcast, she realised, the few dresses that her father had allowed her to procure constantly changed by her own hand to make them appear different.
    The dark-blue gown she took out now was one of those dresses, three years old but well cut and made of worsted velvet, which she had to admit was in places thinning badly. The cook had smuggled it out with Melusine when she had chanced one final call at the Moreton town house before leaving London.
    At least she would not trip over the hem, she thought, combing her hair and winding it into a long plait tied with a bright red ribbon. But she must be very careful with the condition of the dress; after this, there was nothing else left.
    The duke was waiting downstairs, but this morning he looked ill at ease, a man caught by company he did not desire. When she smiled at him his frown deepened.
    â€˜Good morning, my lord.’
    â€˜Miss Moorland.’
    As he remained silent she filled in the