Virtue of a Governess - By Anne Brear Page 0,33

offered up their scents from behind wooden fences, when she paused in front of one large two-story brick house set back from the road and with extensive lawns. On the gate a sign read “For Sale”.

“For sale,” she whispered, her mind whirling with ideas. The house was well positioned on the high side of the road and the top floor would likely have a view of the harbour. Edging the lawns were tall palms, banana trees and immature Norfolk Pines, and all gave the garden a touch of some tropical paradise.

“Miss Douglas?”

Nicola whirled around to the slowing carriage. She hadn’t heard it approach. Mr West poked his head out of the door. She sucked in a deep breath at the sight of him. How much easier her life would be without the bothersome reactions she had to this man. “Good day, Mr West.”

He climbed down from the carriage and bowed over her hand. “I didn’t believe my eyes when I saw you there. You are the last person I expected to be here.” He looked up at the house. “Do I have a contender for this house?”

She blinked in surprise. “You are looking to buy this property?”

“Yes, I am. At least I’m thinking about it.” He grinned, tilting his head to study her. “Does Mr Belfroy pay you so well that you can afford such a house?”

“You are making fun of me, sir.”

“Indeed, I am.” He glanced down at the ground and then back to her face. For once, sincerity clouded his eyes. “I am ill-mannered, forgive me.”

“I am not so unbending as to not take a joke, Mr West.” She managed a small smile, not knowing why she wanted to make him feel better. Blushing, she turned back to view the house. “If I was fortunate enough to be able to purchase this house, I’d turn it into a home for governesses and middle class ladies in need.”

“Really?” His bland expression gave no hint of his thoughts. “Would you care to see inside? I have the keys.”

She stepped away, shaking her head. “Thank you, but no. It is futile to torment one’s self for things they can never have.”

His soft smile transformed his handsome face into something so wondrous, of such startling male beauty, Nicola felt robbed of all thought. He held out his hand. “Indulge me, please.”

Mindless, she allowed him to guide her through the gate, up the path and onto the wide verandah. She stood still as he unlocked the door and then he ushered her inside the square entrance hall.

Rooms led off the hall left and right, but the main feature, a magnificent central staircase dominated it. Nicola ran her hands over the polished timber banister and gazed upwards at the large landing at the top.

She glided from room to room, the drawing room, front parlour, the library and dining room. In some rooms, the cornices were moulded in designs of cherubs and flowers, others had mock silk Chinese wallpaper covering the top half of the walls, differing in colour in each room, while the bottom half was timber panelled. Large windows let in plenty of light. She finished her tour in a study decorated in dark red.

“It is a worthy house, yes?”

She turned to him and nodded, unable to speak. The house was the exact kind she would want to live in.

“I will buy it,” he whispered, “I’ll buy it for you.”

Nicola stared at him as though he’d spoken a foreign language. His words floated around in her mind, but made no sense.

“Nicola,” he took her hand, ‘may I call you Nicola? It’s such a beautiful name and suits a magnificent woman such as you.” He stepped closer, his eyes darkening as though burning with some inner fire. “Nicola, marry me, please.”

“Mr-marry? You?” She couldn’t breathe.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Is that so awful?”

“But you do not know me, or I you.”

“Then we must rectify that.” He brought her hand up and gently placed his lips to it and the strength went from her legs.

“I cannot marry.”

“Why ever not?” He laughed lightly, though she found nothing funny about it.

“Because…because I am a governess…”

“And there is a law against governesses marrying?”

“No, but…” Her mouth went dry as he lowered his head, stopping inches from her face.

“Nicola, marry me. I’ll make you happy. I promise.”

As if pulled by an invisible string she swayed forward, their lips touching, but the physical contact sprang her drugged mind awake and she jerked back, shocked at her behaviour. “I must

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