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CHAPTER FIVE


“Er, thanks.” Giselle offered a weak smile and sidled around him with the remaining books clutched almost prudishly to her chest. He’d been far too close to her, she felt, making her way to the nearest table and scooting behind it to drop her burden.

He put the other two volumes on the table, standing opposite her. “May I ask why such a beautiful young lady is sequestering herself in a musty old library on a glorious Saturday afternoon?”

Nothing he’d said had been offensive or even suggestive – none of his words, at any rate. But for all her innocence, Giselle was no fool and hadn’t missed the very suggestive nuances in his tone of voice. “As it happens,” she replied, her own tone prim, “it’s almost evening, and I’m here to study. I take my job here very seriously, you know.”

“Have you any idea how much I’d like to take you in my arms and kiss you until you faint?” His eyes were what could only be described as “smoldering” as he said this.

“Mr. Lanford! How dare you!”

“Oh, come, now, Miss Moreaux. You’ve known all along that I’m attracted to you – who wouldn’t be? But unlike your overheated charges who have a very typical, schoolboy crush, I base my feelings as much upon who you are as on how you look, perhaps more so.”

Liar, she thought. “And who, exactly, do you believe I am?”

He sighed and crossed his arms. “Ah, lovely lady…you are a sweet-natured, intelligent, generous, selfless human being with the face of a young goddess, hair like angel-silk, eyes that took their beauty from the sea itself…you miss very little, yet know so little about life. You’re innocent yet wise, a caring, loving person who will one day make some extremely fortunate man happy beyond his wildest dreams.” He raised an eyebrow, his smile welcoming now, all mischief gone.

Giselle swallowed, finding it suddenly difficult to breathe. No man had ever spoken to her thus, nor had she ever expected Julian to sound so honestly sincere about his feelings. She blushed and looked down, not sure what to make of all this. “Well, thank you. That – that was very kind of you to say…”

Whether or not he would have taken her momentary hesitation and vulnerability as an opportunity to try and kiss her would never be known, for at that moment, the library door opened and three exhuberant boys whooshed in, smelling of fresh air and horse.

Giselle refrained from looking too relieved at the interruption as she greeted the boys cheerfully.

“Miss Moreaux!” exclaimed Alaric before his brothers could answer her. “We were wondering if you would care to join us tomorrow morning for our Sunday ride! Have you ever been on a horse?”

“I have, indeed. But are you certain? You normally spend that time with your father and uncle, and I would hardly wish to intrude on – ”

“Actually, it was father’s idea, and we all agreed it would be grand to have you along!” This from Granville before his brother could usurp the governess’ attention once more.

“Yes, Miss Moreaux, do join us,” said Julian with a glimmer in his eyes only she understood.

“Oh. My goodness. Well, why not?”

A small chorus of cheers followed her acquiescence, and they headed out of the room, calling to their uncle to join them for a game of cards before the evening meal.

“Of course,” he agreed, but looked rueful as he cast a parting glance at Giselle.

When the door closed and she was alone once more, she sat limply in the nearest chair behind the table. She felt she’d just been spared an impossible ordeal, yet had to admit to a certain curiosity. What would it have been like to be kissed by someone like Julian Lanford? She’d been politely kissed by other, temporary suitors, but never experienced the kind of passion she could see burning in Julian’s eyes. She shivered, not unpleasantly, but then decided to put aside all such thoughts and concentrate on her reason for being in the library in the first place. He certainly had a way with words, though…

She took a deep breath, gave herself a determined mental shake, and opened the top book. As thrilling as Julian’s attentions had been – albeit in a forbidden sort of way – they would have to be abandoned. For now, anyway.

~*~*~*~



Every Sunday morning ride thereafter included Giselle, who loved riding and was thrilled that she could enjoy the fresh air, sun, and exhiliaration of speeding along the wooded pathways atop the beautiful dapple grey mare they’d loaned her. At first, the younger Lanfords had vied for the position on either side of her. To her credit, she never scorned their attention, nor let herself laugh at these antics. But then first Julian and eventually Giles had commandeered those positions, and by the middle of the summer, they were actively competing for her attention as they rode, the younger boys following sullen-faced, their jealousy ill-disguised. Sometimes, to assuage their wounded young sensibilities, she would purposely fall back in order to find herself once again surrounded by her adoring students. The men seemed to understand this and didn’t insist on her catching back up with them.

Since her encounter with Julian in the library, Giselle had been very careful to avoid ever being alone where he might find her. She had, in fact, confided in Mrs. Trellain about the incident and sought the woman’s advice. The older woman was quite clearly touched by the girl’s candor and trust; she therefore gave Giselle the best advice she could, which was to remain polite to Mr. Julian at all times, but never allow him to catch her by herself again. She also advised that nothing be said to the elder Mr. Lanford, unless, of course, his younger brother tried to take things too far in an attempt to win her. She agreed, and in fact became so busy avoiding Julian’s longing gazes, that she missed those of another.

Then something she deemed quite strange occurred one wintery afternoon. The summer had played out pleasantly enough, and autumn had presented many opportunities for Giselle and her charges to explore science in the crisp forest air as she pointed out to them the different kinds of trees, their Latin names, and the difference between edible mushrooms and poisonous toadstools. By the time the first snowflake had introduced itself to the crystalline air of early winter, the children were transformed. Well-behaved now, taking their studies seriously and making wonderful progress in all subjects, their new demeanor encouranged Giselle to feel she may have actually done a good job after all.

Julian had been successfully kept at bay, although it was clear he was unhappy about it, and it looked to the girl as if everything would be well. Until that afternoon, when Giles called her into his study, his expression closed, more serious than she’d ever seen it.

“Have I done something wrong?” she asked after closing the door behind her and facing him. He had said nothing for several long moments, prompting her question.

“No, Miss Moreaux. No, you have not.” He looked away, tapping the fingers of one hand on the surface of the desk behind which he’d taken a seat. He shook his head, his lips a firm line.

She waited patiently – surely he hadn’t called her in here to see how long she could stay on her feet.

At last he stopped tapping and looked up at her. “I have a confession, my dear.”

She raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

“I’m worried about Julian. I see the way he looks at you, and I am certain you are not unaware of his desires.”

Now she stayed quiet because she had no idea what to say to this observation.

“He…he isn’t…stable. That is to say, he’s not completely unbalanced or any such thing, but he does have, er, too much interest in the fairer sex. I do not wish to speak ill of my own brother, but he has managed to…oh, dear.”

Giselle frowned. “Are you worried that I might return his affections?”

“Somewhat, although you strike me as far too sensible to allow his charms to sway you into doing something, er, regrettable.” He sat straighter. “I must ask you this, and beg you not to be offended. Have – have you allowed him to, to – to touch you?”

“Touch me? In what way, Mr. Lanford?”

He waved one hand in a vague sort of gesture. “Oh, inappropriately, I suppose.”

After working out what, exactly, he meant by that, she blushed, deeply embarrassed. “Oh! Well, of course not!”

“I see. Has he ever tried

to, um, do that? Or to kiss you?”

She thought about that afternoon in the library – it had certainly seemed as if that had been Julian’s intention, but she wasn’t sure enough about it to say it was. “N-no. But…”

“Please, Miss Moreaux. I must know the truth.”

She took a deep breath, gave Mrs. Trellain a silent apology, and said, “He did say he…he wanted me. That, er, that he was attracted to me or some such words.”

“I see. Tell me – are you attracted to my brother?”

She narrowed her eyes, thinking. This was a topic she’d avoided giving any consideration since that somewhat distant Saturday, but it occurred to her that this very kind man deserved complete honesty. Was she, in fact, attracted to Julian Lanford? And if so, why? Because of his flowery confession of desire for her? Very flattering, those words had been, but had they been enough to encourage any genuine desire in herself toward him? She surefly felt no affection, which was a very different thing, indeed. What did

she feel toward Julian, then?

“Miss Moreaux?”

“Am I attracted? I am fascinated by his behavior toward me, Mr. Lanford, but he frightens me, too. I rather think such feelings could hardly be described as ‘attracted’. He certainly is handsome and charming, but, no. I have no wish to be with him in any way whatsoever.”

An inexplicable look of joy joined the relief Giles was plainly experien- cing as a result of her words, and he sat back, nodding. “Good. You’ll be safe, then.”

“Safe, sir?”

“We shall speak no more about it, except that I insist you tell me if Julian’s behavior becomes too forward, or if he says or does anything to make you uncomfortable. May I count on you to do this?”

“Of course, sir. I would never lie to you.”

He nodded again, pleased, thanked her for taking the time to speak with him, and dismissed her with a smile.

CHAPTER SIX


Winter passed with no further incident, and the subject of Julian was never again broached by his brother. The boys were getting restless, something Mrs. Trellain explained was normal for them after so much time spent of necessity indoors during the colder weather. She tried to amuse them in a number of ways,

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