first Christmas without their father…” The captain’s words echoed her anxious thoughts.
Marian’s lower lip began to tremble. She wanted to beg Captain Radcliffe to reconsider whatever he was about to suggest, but she feared her voice might break or a tear might fall. After seeing how he had reacted to Cissy’s furtive tears, she did not want to make things worse for the girls by blubbering in front of their cousin.
“I can see you are inclined to disapprove, Miss Murray, but pray hear me out. I would like to do something special for the children this year to provide a distraction from any mournful thoughts that might otherwise trouble them.”
What was he saying? Marian wondered if she could trust her ears, or was she only hearing what she so desperately wanted the captain to say?
“I thought perhaps it might amuse them to re-create Christmastime as I remember it at Knightley Park.” He spoke in a rather defensive tone, as if he expected her to interrupt at any moment with a long list of objections. “Feasting, decorating, music and gift giving. But I have never organized any such festivities before. I would not know where to begin.”
Bless his kind heart! Captain Radcliffe was proposing precisely the opposite of what she’d expected. He wanted the same things for Cissy and Dolly as she did.
The curdled brew of sorrow and dread inside Marian suddenly distilled into a bubbly elixir of joyful excitement, which she found even harder to contain than her tears. Those still hovered, making her eyes tingle. Only now they were tears of happiness.
“What I am trying to say, Miss Murray, is that I will need your help if I am to realize these plans. I know it may mean extra work for you and perhaps you do not approve of any activities that might excite the girls or disrupt the orderly running of the nursery. But I would be heartily grateful if you would be so kind as to assist me.”
The captain rushed through this last part as if he feared she would refuse if he stopped for breath—when instead she was fairly bursting with eagerness. By the time he paused to let her answer, her feelings had grown too volatile to contain.
“Of course I will!” Letting the book in her hands drop to the floor, she flew toward him and threw her arms around his neck as she had not done with anyone since her childhood. “I shall be delighted to help you in any way I can. Thank you, Captain! Thank you!”
It felt so natural to embrace him, soaking in his resolute strength, inhaling his brisk, briny scent. Yet Marian realized almost immediately that it was wrong.
Even with a family member or close friend, such anunrestrained gesture would be questionable. But with the master of the house in which she was employed, a man with whom she was barely acquainted, it was an act of the most grievous impropriety.
One that might cost her everything she cared about.
Chapter Seven
W hen Miss Murray threw herself at him with such joyous abandon, Gideon had no idea what to do.
He was not accustomed to physical contact, least of all a hearty embrace from a very attractive woman. Before he could make any conscious decision, his body reacted on instinct. His muscles tensed and he drew back.
The instant he did, part of him wished he hadn’t. The soft warmth of her touch promised to restore something he’d been missing for a very long time. The scent of her hair put him in mind of a freshly washed handkerchief just taken off a clothesline on a summer’s day.
Of course, it would not have been proper to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, as part of him longed to. He respected Miss Murray far too much to do anything that might frighten her or compromise her reputation. But could he not have held still and let her cling to him for as long as she would?
There was no use speculating now for the damage was done. The moment he tensed, Miss Murray jumpedback like a scalded cat, refusing to meet his gaze, stammering apologies.
“Forgive
Marian’s lower lip began to tremble. She wanted to beg Captain Radcliffe to reconsider whatever he was about to suggest, but she feared her voice might break or a tear might fall. After seeing how he had reacted to Cissy’s furtive tears, she did not want to make things worse for the girls by blubbering in front of their cousin.
“I can see you are inclined to disapprove, Miss Murray, but pray hear me out. I would like to do something special for the children this year to provide a distraction from any mournful thoughts that might otherwise trouble them.”
What was he saying? Marian wondered if she could trust her ears, or was she only hearing what she so desperately wanted the captain to say?
“I thought perhaps it might amuse them to re-create Christmastime as I remember it at Knightley Park.” He spoke in a rather defensive tone, as if he expected her to interrupt at any moment with a long list of objections. “Feasting, decorating, music and gift giving. But I have never organized any such festivities before. I would not know where to begin.”
Bless his kind heart! Captain Radcliffe was proposing precisely the opposite of what she’d expected. He wanted the same things for Cissy and Dolly as she did.
The curdled brew of sorrow and dread inside Marian suddenly distilled into a bubbly elixir of joyful excitement, which she found even harder to contain than her tears. Those still hovered, making her eyes tingle. Only now they were tears of happiness.
“What I am trying to say, Miss Murray, is that I will need your help if I am to realize these plans. I know it may mean extra work for you and perhaps you do not approve of any activities that might excite the girls or disrupt the orderly running of the nursery. But I would be heartily grateful if you would be so kind as to assist me.”
The captain rushed through this last part as if he feared she would refuse if he stopped for breath—when instead she was fairly bursting with eagerness. By the time he paused to let her answer, her feelings had grown too volatile to contain.
“Of course I will!” Letting the book in her hands drop to the floor, she flew toward him and threw her arms around his neck as she had not done with anyone since her childhood. “I shall be delighted to help you in any way I can. Thank you, Captain! Thank you!”
It felt so natural to embrace him, soaking in his resolute strength, inhaling his brisk, briny scent. Yet Marian realized almost immediately that it was wrong.
Even with a family member or close friend, such anunrestrained gesture would be questionable. But with the master of the house in which she was employed, a man with whom she was barely acquainted, it was an act of the most grievous impropriety.
One that might cost her everything she cared about.
Chapter Seven
W hen Miss Murray threw herself at him with such joyous abandon, Gideon had no idea what to do.
He was not accustomed to physical contact, least of all a hearty embrace from a very attractive woman. Before he could make any conscious decision, his body reacted on instinct. His muscles tensed and he drew back.
The instant he did, part of him wished he hadn’t. The soft warmth of her touch promised to restore something he’d been missing for a very long time. The scent of her hair put him in mind of a freshly washed handkerchief just taken off a clothesline on a summer’s day.
Of course, it would not have been proper to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, as part of him longed to. He respected Miss Murray far too much to do anything that might frighten her or compromise her reputation. But could he not have held still and let her cling to him for as long as she would?
There was no use speculating now for the damage was done. The moment he tensed, Miss Murray jumpedback like a scalded cat, refusing to meet his gaze, stammering apologies.
“Forgive
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