The Governess Club: Louisa by Ellie Macdonald Page A

sleep would not come. She had prepared for bed several hours before, intending to rise early to help Maisie begin the day in the kitchen, but sleep still eluded her. And the wine was not relaxing her as she had hoped and she did not like the reason why. She glared at his bedroom window at the bottom corner of the inn, annoyed that he clearly had no issues with his sleep.
    Three days had passed since she had allowed Giant Johnny to tup her in the cask room. The memory had her squirming slightly in her chair, her nerves aching for his attention again. They had not spoken of it or of much at all, and that was how she preferred it.
    He was so different than her footmen. Those two she had chosen after careful deliberation, a planned pursuit—even though they thought they had been the pursuers—and detailed expectations. She did not regret her selections or the loss of her virtue; since leaving her family home, she had not felt so bound by society’s strictures as she used to. It was her choice who she gave her body to, her choice alone, and she would not be made ashamed of it.
    Yet she was not foolish about it either. Posing as a widow had been a conscious decision, as had her footmen selections. Both had been slender, capable and discreet, neither having expectations beyond their brief liaisons; she would not be caught in the same situation Claire had been. She had even approached a midwife for information on preventing conception and obtained several sheaths, insisting on their use. Both footmen had easily acquiesced to her requirements.
    But Giant Johnny was so different. Large and brawny, they had had sex in the cask room of all places instead of a quietly planned rendezvous in her room. No sheath had been used, as the whole thing had been entirely unexpected. Unplanned , she rephrased her thought. Her attraction to him was not a surprise, but she had not yet determined her course of action in approaching him about it. She had some doubts whether or not he would agree to her conditions—he was so much more than the footmen had been—but she was confident that in the end he would capitulate. After all, he was a man and she knew without arrogance that she was an attractive woman.
    That was all some men needed. Or desired.
    Any initial hesitations she had had over his size had been banished with the cask room. As a rule, she avoided larger men, but she had to admit that he had never used his size to intimidate or impose upon her. Her skin began to tingle and she closed her eyes, allowing the memory of being completely supported by his strength and the power of his thrusts to wash over her. Tilting her head to the side, she imagined the scrape of his beard as he kissed her neck and the feel of his hand as it cupped her mound. Her breathing grew agitated and she licked her dry lips as arousal began to take over her body.
    Louisa was about to lift the hem of her nightshirt to see to herself when Giant Johnny’s face was replaced by that of Lord Darleigh, his young face twisted with angry lust.
    Her eyes flew open and she gripped the wine glass tightly. It had been so long since he had invaded her mind that this appearance took her by surprise. It was a malicious joke of God that while she had survived, his attack would be revisited upon her time and again in her memory. An acquaintance of her brother’s, he had been so congenial to her on the occasions they had met, and in her innocence, she had not suspected anything sinister behind the glances he would send her. Until she had to defend herself against him and flee the house, leaving him bleeding to death on the library hearth.
    She hadn’t returned or spoken to any of her family or friends since that day six years earlier. She had realized that she needed to take control of her own life and depend on no one.
    It had been a struggle. Changing her name, finding a position in service, earning her own keep, not speaking of her past—everything she did was on her own and for