Handfasted (To Love a Governess Novella) (2 page)

“Thank you, Mrs. McGregor,” Strotham acknowledged from behind the paper.

“There is no possible way anyone in Middleton would ever learn. He would leave me in Willanton.
Your
reputation would remain untarnished.”
 
Katrina directed her comment toward the raised newspaper and was rather pleased that she was able to dismiss this issue so easily and quickly.

Strotham lowered the paper. “What of your reputation?”

“I don’t ever plan on living in, or visiting, Middleton, so I don’t see why that is an issue.”

He sighed and folded the paper, setting it aside. “Miss Clark, what would your potential future employer think if you arrived in Willanton, unchaparoned, in the company of a single gentleman?
 
Do you think he would want to hire someone to teach his children who would risk her own reputation in such a way?”

Katrina hadn’t thought about that. All she wanted was a few days alone with Strotham and to interview for a new position when she arrived at her destination.
 
“Maybe he wouldn’t care.” It was a weak argument. “Or, maybe you could drop me earlier and I can take a public coach the rest of the journey. All you would have to do is take me most of the way there.”

“Who is this family who needs a governess?”
 
Mrs. McGregor asked.

“Lord and Lady Fairfield.”

“What happened to his last governess?”
 
Strotham raised an eyebrow with the question.

Katrina shrugged. “Lord Fairfield married her.”

“I am sorry, Miss Clark, I cannot help you.”
 
Strotham unfolded the paper in front of his face and dismissed her once again.
 
Someone needed to tell him how rude his behavior was, even if she had sat at his table, uninvited. The man was the fourth son of a marquess and she assumed he was raised to behave better than this.
  

“There has to be a way,” Mrs. McGregor insisted.
 
“Maybe another family in the area would loan you the use of their carriage or someone else will take you.”

Katrina didn’t want someone else.
 
She wanted it to be Strotham.
 
Ever since he arrived in Blackrig a month ago to review the contents of the store and negotiate a price, she had wanted to get to know him further.
 
Tall, with blond hair and the most beautiful green eyes, which no man should be allowed to possess, was what first attracted her.
 
His broad shoulders, strong hands and long fingers held her interest as had his legs and muscular thighs. She assumed they were muscular, as was his buttocks because she watched him often enough when he walked, stood, bent and sat.
 
He reached forward and picked up the cup, small and delicate in his hand.
 

Her face warmed at the images her mind produced from the books she glanced through. She wanted to experience all of those things before she returned to her profession as a governess and settled into spinsterhood, and she wanted to experience them with Strotham.
 
Oh, why did he have to be so bloody proper?

Of course, he was a scholarly man, not like the rakehells of society, the ones who visited Lord McGowan each summer to hunt. Those gentlemen were full of themselves, confident in their ability to attract any female they wished and seduce if so desired.
 
Strotham was different. He never even once looked at her with the interest those other so called gentleman had when she was a governess in the McGowan household.
 

Perhaps Strotham wasn’t interested in dalliances.
 
Was it possible for a man to not want seduction and prefer books and solitude above intimacy?
 
She hadn’t thought of that possibility.
 
Maybe he wouldn’t even wish to kiss her once alone in a carriage.
 
Then what would she do?
 

Katrina shook the worry from her mind.
 
First, she had to get into that carriage and then she would try to figure out how to seduce him. She was sure there were books among her father’s secret collection that could assist her if he became difficult.

* * *

Though a companion for the three day trip to Middleton would be welcome, Katrina Clark was the last person Timothy wanted to be alone with.
 

He corrected himself.
 
He wanted to be alone with her, very much wanted to be alone with her, but he was not sure he could survive it.
 
Ever since he had looked into her deep brown eyes while inquiring about the shop and its contents, he had wanted her.
 
So many times he had to leave her presence so as not to embarrass himself because of the inevitable growth of his desire.
  
Even now he was thankf for the table which hid his lap from her view.
 
Three days in a carriage would be miserable and likely drive him mad.

She had no idea what she asked or what torture would be inflicted upon him. All she wanted was a ride to Willanton so she could become a governess.
 
That in itself was a waste.
 
With her full breasts and luscious lips, she was made for much more pleasant things, such as seducing. If she wasn’t a lady, he would have offered her the ride in his vehicle, among other things, before she could ask.
 
But, she was an innocent and had no idea what the sway of her hips did to him.

The worst possible place for her would be to be alone with him. He could barely get through an afternoon without wanting to hold and kiss her. Three days in a carriage would likely see her completely and utterly ruined.
 

Besides, Miss Clark viewed him as a business man, the gentleman who took her father’s books, someone she had been forced to deal with. Not a man who lusted after her, if she even knew the meaning of the word lust.
 

Thank goodness Miss Clark didn’t know about the books secreted away behind a false panel in the gentleman’s room of her father’s store or she would be
very
acquainted with lust, desire, copulation, fornication, and a number of other illicit acts. Timothy was fairly certain she had no
idea
 
the
books were even there since they had not been on the inventory she provided when he first arrived. He only came upon them by accident.
 
Miss Clark probably thought the gentleman’s room was simply where men gathered to read, drink brandy and smoke cheroots.
 
After viewing the volumes, Timothy was fairly certain the gentlemen didn’t visit there just for the company or to read the papers from Edinburgh and London.

Tomorrow he would begin packing the books for shipment and Miss Clark insisted on helping. He would need to make sure she was occupied in the main room when he packed up
that
collection.
 
Those were tomes no proper lady should ever read or look through.
 

“Handfasted.”
Timothy recognized the voice of Mr. Wallace, the local tailor. He had been standing before the glass case displaying the delicacies baked earlier in the day when he entered.

“Oh, that is an excellent idea, Mr. Wallace,” Mrs. McGregor agreed with enthusiasm.
 

Timothy remained hidden behind the paper waiting for Miss Clark to vacate her seat and leave the tea house. But, she was still there because he could smell her scent of lilac.
 
Why didn’t she just give up and go away?

“I didn’t think anyone practiced handfasting any longer,
”
 
Miss
Clark commented.

Handfasting?
No, they couldn’t be thinking . . .
 
Timothy lowered the paper from in front of his face, hopeful they were speaking of some other couple far away from here.

“It is hardly ever necessary any longer, but there are a few who become handfasted, as a trial, of course,” Mrs. McGregor enthusiastically offered.

“A trial marriage,” Miss Clark said the words so slowly he knew she was giving this a great deal of consideration. He would need to stop this line of thought before he found himself in a trial marriage to the one woman he wanted to bed.

“You only have to be married a year and a day.
If you are not together when that time comes around, it is as if the wedding never happened.”

“It is an excellent idea, Mr. Wallace.”
 
Mrs. McGregor clapped her hands and turned to Timothy. “It is perfect. You can travel alone with Miss Clark and nobody will think poorly of either of you because you will be married. Then, you can drop her in Willanton and be on your way. After a year, it will be as if the marriage never happened.”

It sounded far too easy and Timothy knew there was a catch.
 
Nobody got handfasted any longer. Well, at least not in England. But, he was in Scotland, where things could be very different.
 
These people probably thought it perfectly normal to make a union in such antiquated ways.

“Please. I promise not to be any trouble and never to bother you again.”

Miss Clark looked at him expectantly, a hopeful smile and spark of anticipation in her eyes. Mrs. McGregor kept nodding her head as if encouraging him to make the right decision, which required him to be married for a year and a day. Mr. Wallace shrugged and held up his hands. “What do you have to lose? Are you betrothed to someone else?”

“No.”
 
How come it felt like there was a noose tightening around his neck?

“Did you plan on marrying anyone within the next year?”

It was getting difficult to breath. Why didn’t he simply refuse? “No, but that doesn’t mean I won’t meet someone.”

“She will want to plan a fancy wedding, you being the son of a marquess, and that could take a good year. By then you will no longer be married.”

“Please?”
 
Miss Clark bit her bottom lip.
 
Her hopeful anticipation had been replaced with worry.
 

He hated to see her disappointed and if they were married, even for the short time they were together, he could do the things he wanted, if she would allow it, of course.

No, he dismissed the thought. He could not risk leaving her with child while he went on his way to Middleton and left her as a governess.
 
She would hate him, especially since she only saw him as the perfect opportunity to get her from one place to another. He was a convenience, and nothing more.
 

Yet, it would be nice to have her along for the trip. He would just need to remember they were not really married, at least not in his mind, and certainly not by a minister, so he would need to refrain from touching her in any manner, even if it killed him.

“Very well.”
His heart lurched as if he just sealed his own fate, and not necessarily in a pleasant manner.

“Thank you. I promise you will not be sorry.”

There was a sly gleam in Miss Clark’s eye. What was she thinking?
 
At that moment, he suspected he would most certainly be sorry for agreeing to the mad scheme.

“When shall we be handfasted?” She directed the question to Mrs. McGregor.

Timothy chose to answer. “We will finish packing up the shop tomorrow. We will leave the day after and be handfasted right before we begin our trip.” He wanted to put this off as long as possible. As long as he was not joined to her in any manner, he could trust himself not to touch her.

Chapter 2

Timothy shut the door to the Gentleman’s Room for privacy. Miss Clark was busy in the back storage room crating additional books. Until a few moments ago she had worked diligently by his side for three hours. He didn’t think she would ever go to another room so he could retrieve and pack the secret books.
 
Not only did she make it difficult to concentrate, the fragrance of lilacs surrounded her. He would never be able to walk by a bush in bloom again without thinking of her. Her scooped neckline was just as distracting.
 
Even if it was fashionable, that type of gown was meant to be worn while a lady was sitting or standing, not bent over packing books into crates.
 
So many, too many times he looked over and was given full view of her breasts.
 
The creamy globes strained to be released and he would like nothing better than to assist them and discover the dusky color of the nipple beneath, but he controlled himself.
 
Timothy was surprised he did have so much control but was glad for it. It gave him hope that he could make this journey with Miss Clark with her innocence still intact.