intermingled at their sudden interruption.
'I have to leave you,' he said.
She nodded. She knew he had to go. Knew, too, that it was better he did. Because if he stayed she did not know what might happen.
For a moment he looked as if he might change his mind and stay after all, but then she saw a change in his face and he strode out of the room. Leaving Sarah alone, trying to make sense of what had happened to her.
Had Lord Randall really been about to kiss her? she wondered. No. She must have imagined it. She had no experience of such things after all; she must have made a mistake. Lord Randall would never kiss a governess.
But even so, she had thought he was going to do so, and she would not have wanted to stop him.
She had never had such perplexing feelings before.
To take her mind off the incident she decided to take a turn around the gallery. It was full of landscapes and portraits. Different views of the Grange predominated along the near wall, together with a number of hunting scenes, whilst portraits of the family occupied the far wall. There hung all Lord Randall's ancestors, the Earl and Countess who had founded the dynasty in the seventeenth century together with all their descendants. All people who had once lived and loved at the Grange.
She stopped in front of the most recent portraits, looking at a charming family grouping. It was of Lord and Lady Randall, together with two people Sarah guessed to be Thomas and Caroline, Lord Randall's brother and sister-in-law. In front of them were the three children: William, Peter and Lucy. They had been much younger when the portrait was painted, but they were still easy to recognise.
Her eyes lingered on Lady Randall. Sarah recalled Mrs Smith telling her, in a rare moment of volubility, that Lord Randall had lost his wife to a fever five years before. Lord Randall never spoke of her, and Sarah found herself wondering whether he had been very much in love with his wife.
She was aroused from her reverie by the sound of the clock chiming and she realised it was
growing late. Leaving the gallery behind her, she returned to her own room.
* * * *
It was a long night. Lord Randall spent most of it in the stables with the sick mare, only leaving there towards dawn when the animal was showing signs of recovery. He slept late and afterwards, having seen that the mare was continuing to improve, rode out to the farthest reaches of his estate. Once there, in the peace and solitude of the beautiful landscape, he knew he would not be disturbed.
And he felt in need of peace and solitude, because for the first time in his life he was experiencing feelings he could not understand. And those feelings were centred around Miss Davenport, the children's governess.
His first response to her had been his normal one: he had been proud, arrogant and unconcerned. But even then she had stirred something in him, something he had not acknowledged until later, when he had had to admit to himself that she was a most unusual governess. His next response had been a purely physical one. Even so, if his feelings had ended there he could with difficulty have controlled them: after the look that had been surprised out of him by the lake he had kept a tight rein on himself and, knowing that he was so strongly attracted to her, he had made sure they did not meet too often.
When he had discovered she had had such a difficult life, he had wanted to help her, to make things easier for her, and that was something he had never felt about any woman. As he had never felt admiration or respect for a woman before he had met Sarah.
But their encounter in the picture gallery had taken things to a new level. It had aroused the whole mixture of feelings in him, and they were so strong that he did not know if he could control them.
In the midst of many feelings that were uncertain, one thing was crystal clear. He could not remain in the same house as her without his feelings developing further. And as he was
'I have to leave you,' he said.
She nodded. She knew he had to go. Knew, too, that it was better he did. Because if he stayed she did not know what might happen.
For a moment he looked as if he might change his mind and stay after all, but then she saw a change in his face and he strode out of the room. Leaving Sarah alone, trying to make sense of what had happened to her.
Had Lord Randall really been about to kiss her? she wondered. No. She must have imagined it. She had no experience of such things after all; she must have made a mistake. Lord Randall would never kiss a governess.
But even so, she had thought he was going to do so, and she would not have wanted to stop him.
She had never had such perplexing feelings before.
To take her mind off the incident she decided to take a turn around the gallery. It was full of landscapes and portraits. Different views of the Grange predominated along the near wall, together with a number of hunting scenes, whilst portraits of the family occupied the far wall. There hung all Lord Randall's ancestors, the Earl and Countess who had founded the dynasty in the seventeenth century together with all their descendants. All people who had once lived and loved at the Grange.
She stopped in front of the most recent portraits, looking at a charming family grouping. It was of Lord and Lady Randall, together with two people Sarah guessed to be Thomas and Caroline, Lord Randall's brother and sister-in-law. In front of them were the three children: William, Peter and Lucy. They had been much younger when the portrait was painted, but they were still easy to recognise.
Her eyes lingered on Lady Randall. Sarah recalled Mrs Smith telling her, in a rare moment of volubility, that Lord Randall had lost his wife to a fever five years before. Lord Randall never spoke of her, and Sarah found herself wondering whether he had been very much in love with his wife.
She was aroused from her reverie by the sound of the clock chiming and she realised it was
growing late. Leaving the gallery behind her, she returned to her own room.
* * * *
It was a long night. Lord Randall spent most of it in the stables with the sick mare, only leaving there towards dawn when the animal was showing signs of recovery. He slept late and afterwards, having seen that the mare was continuing to improve, rode out to the farthest reaches of his estate. Once there, in the peace and solitude of the beautiful landscape, he knew he would not be disturbed.
And he felt in need of peace and solitude, because for the first time in his life he was experiencing feelings he could not understand. And those feelings were centred around Miss Davenport, the children's governess.
His first response to her had been his normal one: he had been proud, arrogant and unconcerned. But even then she had stirred something in him, something he had not acknowledged until later, when he had had to admit to himself that she was a most unusual governess. His next response had been a purely physical one. Even so, if his feelings had ended there he could with difficulty have controlled them: after the look that had been surprised out of him by the lake he had kept a tight rein on himself and, knowing that he was so strongly attracted to her, he had made sure they did not meet too often.
When he had discovered she had had such a difficult life, he had wanted to help her, to make things easier for her, and that was something he had never felt about any woman. As he had never felt admiration or respect for a woman before he had met Sarah.
But their encounter in the picture gallery had taken things to a new level. It had aroused the whole mixture of feelings in him, and they were so strong that he did not know if he could control them.
In the midst of many feelings that were uncertain, one thing was crystal clear. He could not remain in the same house as her without his feelings developing further. And as he was
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