Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 01] (13 page)

She handed her reins to a waiting groom and started back to the manor, composing a sharp lecture for Mr. Fielding—wasn't it his job to keep an eye on potential problems? He should have been aware of the danger.

Just as she came to the graveled drive she spotted a group of workmen walking toward the fields. Deciding that it might take her too much time to locate the steward at this hour, Jane took matters into her own hands.

"John," she called to leader of the group. "You and your men must go right away to the mill pond to open the gates."

The man looked momentarily surprised, but then he nodded at her tone of command. "Yes, Miss."

Satisfied, Jane entered the house.

* * *

Saybrook caught a glimpse of the scene from the morning room where he was taking a cup of coffee and reading the paper. With a muffled oath, he slammed down his cup and raced outside. "Where are you men going?" he shouted.

They stopped in their tracks. The foreman turned to face him. "Why, my lord, Miss Langley told us to go open the sluice gates."

"Have you forgotten who gives orders here?" he replied in an icy tone.

The man stared at his boots. "No, my lord. It's just that recently..." He trailed off in confusion.

"Yes, I gather that. But in the future you will act on my word, or that of Mr. Fielding," he said less sharply. His temper was still sorely tried, but he regretted having vented it on those who were not to blame. "I have already taken care of the matter," he added. "You may return to the work you were doing before."

He turned on his heel and reentered the house. Brushing past a startled Glavin he threw open the library door. "Send Miss Langley to me," he roared at the butler. "At once!"

When Jane entered the room, still attired in her damp habit, Saybrook was pacing up and down in front of his desk. "What in God's name did you think you were doing, ordering those men to the river?" he snapped.

"With the storm of the past few days, if they didn't attend to the sluices, one of the fields would be flooded. Your steward should have noticed..."

"If they had opened the gates, more than a field would have been harmed—I ordered some men to strengthen the bridge below the pond first thing this morning, before we were to open the sluices," stormed Saybrook. "If those men had done as you ordered, people would have been killed!"

Jane's mouth flew open. "I didn't know!"

"Forgive me for not informing you, Miss Langley," he replied acidly. "Somehow, I am under the strange delusion that
I
make the decisions at Highwood. Is that clear?"

Jane looked a little guilty, and yet her reply was unapologetic. "In this case, yes."

"Bloody hell," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Do I have your promise not to take estate matters into your own hands from now on?"

The chin stuck out even farther. "Perhaps."

"What! Why you... you impudent..." Saybrook's temper, frayed by the fear for his men's safety, snapped. With lightening quickness he moved to Jane's side and, before she could react, grabbed her about the waist. Kicking a chair around to face him, he sat down and put her over his knee. Once, twice, three times in rapid succession his hand came down on her backside.

"Let me go, you... you beast!"

"If you insist on behaving like a spoiled brat, you shall be treated like one." She was struggling in his grasp and the feel of her soft stomach and thighs felt rather interesting on his legs. Though his temper was gone, he held her tight, ignoring the flailing of her fists. Finally she managed to free herself.

"How
dare
you treat me like that!" she cried as she straightened her dress. "No one has
ever
spanked me before!"

"A grave mistake." He regarded her calmly. "For I'm sure you have richly deserved it on more occasions than this."

"Oooohhh!" She was so angry that words eluded her. In frustration she stamped her foot.

At that, the corners of Saybrook's mouth twitched uncontrollably. In another moment he was laughing aloud.

"Oh, do give off," she snapped. But the absurdity of it all was clear to her as well. In spite of her pique, she found herself joining his laughter.

"I'm afraid that yet again I have behaved very badly, my lord," she said as she regained her composure. "I apologize for my actions and assure you that I shall refrain from giving orders which are rightfully yours to give. Is that satisfactory?"

"Do I hear correctly? Has Miss Langley admitted to error?"

"I should hope that I, too, have the grace to admit when I am wrong. And I would appreciate it if you would inform me of my defects of character in a less demonstrative manner,"

Saybrook had risen from the chair and he inclined a slight bow in her direction. "Agreed." He paused for a bit. "And I would hope that if you feel something is amiss at Highwood you will bring it to my attention."

She looked at him in surprise. "Would you pay it any heed?" she challenged.

"I would be a fool not to. You have good sense and a discerning eye—you were right about the pond."

"But I am merely a woman."

"I fail to see what that has to do with having good sense and a discerning eye. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see how the men are coming."

He strode out of the library, leaving Jane with more than enough food for thought for the day.

Chapter 6

Jane picked up a pile of fragrant pressed linens.

"Are you sure?" asked Mrs. Fairchild. "You certainly aren't expected to do such work."

"I don't mind, truly. Annie will have more than enough to catch up with when she returns." The laundry maid had been given time off to nurse a sick child and the week's wash sat neatly starched and folded, but needed to be put away. Jane had caught Mrs. Fairchild struggling with a mass of sheets and had promptly relieved the older woman of her burden.

"Peter is down at the stables bringing his horse a treat from the kitchen, so I'm quite at leisure," she smiled.

After climbing the stairs, she turned down a hallway into the wing of the house she had never entered before. One, two, three, four—she counted the doors and entered a small room with huge pine linen presses that served the bedrooms of the wing. She added her pile to the others stacked in the nearest one and carefully closed the door to keep the lavender scent of the sachets locked inside.

As she walked back, she took her time, glancing in through the open doors at the carved furniture and rich fabrics of the various rooms. Each had its own color palette and motif yet all reflected a hand of restraint and elegance. Clearly someone with taste had overseen the decorating of Highwood.

Who
, she wondered?

As she passed a closed door, she found herself wondering what Saybrook's rooms looked like. Were they dark and overbearing, or as pleasant as these? Did his bed have a canopy. Was it an heirloom four poster—she caught herself with a start and nearly blushed. How improper to even think about! Besides, she was still out of sorts with him over his high-handed treatment of her.

The nerve of him to actually spank her!
It was probably a good thing that since that scene a few days ago she had barely seen him....

Suddenly, something caught her eye. She stopped abruptly, backed up a few steps and entered a small conservatory whose tall leaded windows reminded her so much of her own home that she felt a catch in her throat. But it was the pianoforte that had caught her eye. It was a grand one, gleaming ebony in the afternoon light, its keys beckoning.

Without thinking, she seated herself and began to play. There was a pile of sheet music on the stand but she began from memory, her fingers alive with the pleasure of playing once again. She hadn't realized how much she had missed it. All sense of time was forgotten as she lost herself in the emotions of her favorite Mozart sonata. Finally, she came to the end and let out a sigh, drained yet happy from the demands of the music.

"That was exquisite."

The voice was hardly more than a whisper. Jane whirled around to see Saybrook leaning in the doorway.

"Oh," she gulped and made to jump up.

"No, please," he said. "Do you know the Sonata in G minor?"

She shook her head. "It is still too difficult for me, especially the middle passage."

He came across the room swiftly and seated himself beside her. "That I cannot believe. It is certainly no more demanding than the piece you just played."

His fingers began to move over the keys, and Jane noticed how long and graceful they were. And as she listened to the notes, she became aware that they were also strong, and capable of great sensitivity. It was her turn to be amazed. She sat mesmerized until he finished.

"My lord, you play beautifully!" she breathed. "I never would have expected that a gentleman...." She faltered.

"That a gentleman would play the piano?" he finished. His lips compressed in an expression of bitterness. "Yes, I know. It is not considered manly, so my father told me—many times."

"But it is wonderful! You have a real gift." Impulsively she covered his left hand, which still rested on the keys, with her own. Somehow, she wanted to brush away the hurt she saw in him. "As if anyone could question your..." She stopped dead. What in heaven's name was she doing? She snatched away her hand and covered her embarrassment with a cough.

"I must be getting back. Mrs. Fairchild must be wondering what's become of me."

Saybrook was staring at her with an unfathomable look on his face. As she tried to rise, his hand grasped her firmly by the elbow.

"I really must go, my lord," she whispered, not daring to meet his eyes.

"Enough of me," he said. "It is you, Miss Langley, I wish to discuss. Such as where you learned to play like that."

"I... I told you. I was educated with a squire's daughter..."

His grip tightened. "Do you take me for a gudgeon? What country squire has a music master such as that? What is his name? Where does he live?"

"It is none of your concern!" she cried.

"Indeed it is! You are employed to look after my ward. I have every right to know your background."

Jane's mind was a blur of panic. All the carefully rehearsed lines were forgotten in the face of his steely gaze. Desperately she sought for something to say. All she could think of was the truth.

"Please sir, I cannot tell you that." To her consternation, she felt tears in her eyes. "I assure you there is nothing in my background that would make me unfit to be Peter's governess. It's just that...." She paused, wondering whether to go on. Saybrook's eyes had never left her and she knew he would demand more. "You see, I've run away from my father. I would prefer it if no one knows where I am from. I feel safer that way."

"Why?"

Jane took a deep breath. "He wished to force me into a marriage I did not want."

Saybrook's hand slipped from her arm. She was surprised to see his brow furrow and a look of pain cross his features. "One should be free to marry whom one chooses," he said slowly.

Though Jane was free from his grasp she made no move to leave. "That is a strange opinion for you to hold, sir. I thought Society expected those of your station to marry for... practical reasons."

He gave a bitter laugh. "You are correct. But that doesn't make it right."

She looked at him with sudden understanding. "You don't like having to do what's expected of you."

This time his laugh was real. "And neither, Miss Langley, do you."

There was a moment of silence.

"Perhaps I could speak to your father for you."

Jane's eyes widened in amazement at the offer. The idea was nothing short of intriguing—it would be an interesting match. However, she merely shook her head. "You do not know my father."

"And you, perhaps, do not realize how persuasive a title can be to a father."

Jane repressed a small smile. "I'm not sure it would matter in this case. But I thank you for your generous offer. It is truly most kind of you."

"You have only to ask if you reconsider."