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An Unlikely Governess Page 30


  And faster than she thought she could be.

  At the base of the mountain, she only had a few moments to spare. She stood in the middle of the road, stretched out her arms, and closed her eyes, wondering if she was destined to die by coach after all.

  The driver shouted, standing and pulling on the reins in an effort to halt the horses. The road was slick beneath the carriage’s oversized wheels, and it began to slide around the last curve.

  In that second Beatrice wondered if all she’d succeeded in doing was sending the coach catapulting off the mountain. Instead, the horses lost their footing, and the carriage slid sideways into a snowdrift like a ship nestling into its berth.

  The driver was still shouting at her in French, the comments not polite in the least. She recognized Gaston finally, but she didn’t move, only lowered her arms.

  The door opened, and Devlen emerged, looking like an emissary of the devil himself. In the faint light of a waning sun, she flinched from the look in his eyes. She tilted back her chin and took a deep breath as he reached her.

  “You stupid fool! You could have been killed!”

  “I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t let you leave without knowing.”

  She was hiccupping softly while she cried, the tears falling freely.

  “Knowing what?”

  “I never thought you were responsible.” Honesty compelled her to add, “Perhaps for a little while. After Edinburgh. But I knew that a man who’d taken a child to safety wouldn’t have then tried to kill him.”

  “How very reasonable of you.”

  “You couldn’t have done it.” Her tears continued. She didn’t know how she would be able to stop them. Right now she felt as if she could cry forever.

  “I knew you would prove to be a problem.”

  “You hate me, don’t you?” She looked up at him, uncaring that tears sheened her face.

  “I don’t hate you, Beatrice.”

  “Then why are you so angry?”

  “Anger is one of those essentially worthless emotions.”

  “One of those? What would be the other ones?”

  His smile grew more genuine.

  “You’re expecting me to say love, aren’t you? Or a host of other gentle feelings. Dear Beatrice, you lay such sweet traps for me.”

  The snow began.

  His look was intent, somber. She was reminded of the first time she’d seen him, on this same road, at almost this same spot. She’d been transfixed by the sight of him as she was now.

  Finally, he spoke again. “It’s better to be angry than afraid. It’s foolish to feel fear when a little knowledge will normally overcome it. Fear is caused by uncertainty, by ignorance.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” Well, perhaps she had been, but only in the first five minutes of their meeting. Fascination had easily taken the place of fear.

  “My dearest Beatrice, I wasn’t referring to you. But of myself. I’ve been afraid ever since I met you.”

  “You have?”

  “All this time, I was afraid you’d leave me.”

  “I never wanted to.”

  “But you would. One day you would.”

  Perhaps he was right.

  “Stay with me.”

  “Are you asking me to be your mistress? I thought Felicia held that post. The beautiful, tiny Felicia.”

  “Thank God I didn’t witness that meeting,” he said, smiling. “As to being my current mistress, I think it would be amusing to have a wife who acted the part.”

  For a moment she couldn’t speak.

  “Where did you think I was going?” he asked.

  “To Edinburgh.”

  He shook his head. “I was in search of a minister, my dearest Miss Sinclair. I have no intention of losing you again. The bonds of matrimony must surely be strong enough to keep you with me.”

  The snow was piling up on his shoulders, and she reached up to brush it away.

  “You love me?”

  He smiled, and the expression was a faint effort at best, not quite reaching the somber expression in his eyes.

  “With all my heart, dear Beatrice. Or do you think I kidnap governesses without a care to their reputation or mine? It’s not my way of doing things.”

  “You love me?” The thought was so alien she found repeating it the only possible solace.

  “Even though you thought I was a murderer. We shall have to work on trust, I think.”

  “I never thought you were a murderer. I thought your father was. I didn’t want to put you in a position where you’d have to choose.”

  “Between you and anyone else? I choose you. Between you and the world, Beatrice? Surely you know that answer.”

  “Your father says you’re ruthless.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I suspect he’s right, Devlen.”

  “You’re correct, Beatrice. In certain matters, I am. With you? Of a certainty. I feel it only fair to warn you I’m about to kidnap you again.”

  “Are you?”

  “And Robert as well. I think the boy would do better in Edinburgh for a while. Although, while we’re on our honeymoon, he should attend school.”

  “You want to marry me, even though I’m a governess?”

  His laughter echoed up the mountain and back. “You’re the most unlikely governess I’ve ever known.”

  She took a deep breath. “You asked me once if life had affected me. Maybe it has, I don’t know. I do know I don’t want to dread every day. I want a roof over my head, and food to eat. I want to be warm and have pretty clothes. I want to be healthy, and I want to be happy. But most of all, I want you. I deserve you.”

  She wiped her tears away with her fingertips, but they kept coming.

  He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her to him. “I think you deserve a great deal more than me, but I’m afraid I won’t let you go. You’ll have to say yes.”

  She looked up at his face, thinking a year ago she wouldn’t have thought there was any reason to feel joy or wonder or such delight it spread through her body like a warm flood.

  “Do you have such great experience with being in love, Devlen?” She’d asked him the question once, and he’d never answered her.

  “None. It feels like an ache, Beatrice, a damnable irritation right here.” He reached for her hand and placed it over his heart. “You’re the only one who can heal me.”

  “It’s a contagious disease, Devlen.”

  “I should hope so.”

  “I do love you.”

  “I know, dearest Beatrice.”

  “You love me, too.”

  “With all my heart and what’s left of my mind.” He smiled and enfolded her in his arms.

  There, in the darkness, just below Castle Crannoch, they kissed. When they broke apart, it was with a smile toward the sky, at the large snowflakes wafting down on them like a celestial blessing.

  “Yes, Beatrice?”

  “Oh yes, Devlen.”

  With a laugh, they turned and walked hand in hand toward the carriage.

  About the Author

  KAREN RANNEY began writing when she was five. Her first published work was The Maple Leaf, read over the school intercom when she was in the first grade. In addition to wanting to be a violinist (her parents had a special violin crafted for her when she was seven), she wanted to be a lawyer, a teacher, and, most of all, a writer. The violin discarded early, she still admits to a fascination with the law, and she volunteers as a teacher whenever needed. Writing, however, has remained an overwhelming love of hers. She loves to hear from her readers—please write to her at karen@karenranney.com or visit her website at www.karenranney.com. Karen Ranney lives in Texas.

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  By Karen Ranney

  AN UNLIKELY GOVERNESS • TILL NEXT WE MEET

  SO IN LOVE • TO LOVE A SCOTTISH LORD

  THE IRRESISTIBLE MACRAE

  WHEN THE LAI
RD RETURNS

  ONE MAN’S LOVE • AFTER THE KISS

  MY TRUE LOVE • MY BELOVED

  UPON A WICKED TIME • MY WICKED FANTASY

  If You’ve Enjoyed This Book,

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  THIS RAKE OF MINE by Elizabeth Boyle

  Coming Soon

  SCANDAL OF THE BLACK ROSE by Debra Mullins

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  AN UNLIKELY GOVERNESS. Copyright © 2006 by Karen Ranney. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  ePub edition October 2007 ISBN 9780061755507

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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