teach…and she is a little like me. She is half-French and she tells the history of France in such a way that the girls improve in that subject swiftly. I believe she has heard the lady of the well sing…’
‘Ah, so the lady of the well sings, does she?’ Robert smiled again. ‘And will Jeanne stay at the school to teach if you…if perhaps you could not?’
‘I think she would like to live there and become like me, or that is what she tells me. When she is ready she will be our French mistress – and teach history and music, at which she excels.’ Samantha sighed. ‘However, I rely on my school for my living and it is my life. I could never leave my home. I love it too much.’
‘Then I must think myself fortunate that you are prepared to give us so much of your time, Samantha.’
‘Oh, I shall think of it as a delightful holiday. I often visit friends for a few weeks in-between terms.’
‘We must make certain the trip to Bath is as pleasant as we can make it – for both you and my sister.’ Robert inclined his head. ‘I shall not take up more of your time. I believe you and Eleanor were planning to take a picnic to the lake today. I shall not disturb you, but see you again this evening.’
Samantha inclined his head, too uncertain of her thoughts to reply. He left her standing there and went out. For a moment she stood staring at the bookshelves without seeing them. Then she gave a delightful gurgle of laughter.
She was to have the pleasure of his company that evening and for the next few weeks in Bath. Yet what would happen then? In a month’s time she must return to her home and begin the preparations for the next term. She had always looked forward to each new term, welcoming the returning pupils and greeting the new ones, but suddenly the idea did not hold quite the appeal it once had.
Shaking her head to clear it of foolish notions, she selected a book to read while they lazed by the river. This was just a visit, a holiday. The school was her life and she must not forget it.
Robert frowned as he walked to the stable, where a groom was saddling his horse. His recent absences meant that he had much to do before they left for Bath, though he wished he might spend his day at the lake with Eleanor and Miss…Samantha. How well her name tripped off his tongue. She had such clear eyes and a wonderful smile…a hint of wickedness about her mouth as she laughed, as if she had a secret she would not tell. She had reluctantly told him about the lady of the well, but what else was there to know?
Robert wanted to know everything about her. She fascinated him, filled his thoughts when he ought to be thinking of serious matters to do with the estate. He knew that he had fallen beneath her spell…even if the only magic was the age-old magic of love. Witches did not truly exist except in fairytales, and Samantha was surely not a witch even if they had been anything more than a myth.
He knew that he burned to make love to her, to have her in his arms, his bed, to touch her skin and kiss her until she cried out with passion and begged for more. Did she have feelings for him? Once or twice he had seen a flicker in her eyes, but she was clever at hiding her thoughts from him. She was not obvious, as so many women were when inviting him to enter an illicit relationship. Not that he wanted such a relationship with Samantha…no, he wanted much, much more. If she were once his he would never let her go, never want her to be touched or loved by another man.
Her home meant everything to her. Could he persuade her to leave it for his home? Robert had a large and prosperous estate, on which several hundred men and women relied for their livelihoods. He could not walk away from his duty. Her house was a pretty place and the woods were nice, but his woods were of equal size and alive with the red deer and, other small mammals and birds. His
‘Ah, so the lady of the well sings, does she?’ Robert smiled again. ‘And will Jeanne stay at the school to teach if you…if perhaps you could not?’
‘I think she would like to live there and become like me, or that is what she tells me. When she is ready she will be our French mistress – and teach history and music, at which she excels.’ Samantha sighed. ‘However, I rely on my school for my living and it is my life. I could never leave my home. I love it too much.’
‘Then I must think myself fortunate that you are prepared to give us so much of your time, Samantha.’
‘Oh, I shall think of it as a delightful holiday. I often visit friends for a few weeks in-between terms.’
‘We must make certain the trip to Bath is as pleasant as we can make it – for both you and my sister.’ Robert inclined his head. ‘I shall not take up more of your time. I believe you and Eleanor were planning to take a picnic to the lake today. I shall not disturb you, but see you again this evening.’
Samantha inclined his head, too uncertain of her thoughts to reply. He left her standing there and went out. For a moment she stood staring at the bookshelves without seeing them. Then she gave a delightful gurgle of laughter.
She was to have the pleasure of his company that evening and for the next few weeks in Bath. Yet what would happen then? In a month’s time she must return to her home and begin the preparations for the next term. She had always looked forward to each new term, welcoming the returning pupils and greeting the new ones, but suddenly the idea did not hold quite the appeal it once had.
Shaking her head to clear it of foolish notions, she selected a book to read while they lazed by the river. This was just a visit, a holiday. The school was her life and she must not forget it.
Robert frowned as he walked to the stable, where a groom was saddling his horse. His recent absences meant that he had much to do before they left for Bath, though he wished he might spend his day at the lake with Eleanor and Miss…Samantha. How well her name tripped off his tongue. She had such clear eyes and a wonderful smile…a hint of wickedness about her mouth as she laughed, as if she had a secret she would not tell. She had reluctantly told him about the lady of the well, but what else was there to know?
Robert wanted to know everything about her. She fascinated him, filled his thoughts when he ought to be thinking of serious matters to do with the estate. He knew that he had fallen beneath her spell…even if the only magic was the age-old magic of love. Witches did not truly exist except in fairytales, and Samantha was surely not a witch even if they had been anything more than a myth.
He knew that he burned to make love to her, to have her in his arms, his bed, to touch her skin and kiss her until she cried out with passion and begged for more. Did she have feelings for him? Once or twice he had seen a flicker in her eyes, but she was clever at hiding her thoughts from him. She was not obvious, as so many women were when inviting him to enter an illicit relationship. Not that he wanted such a relationship with Samantha…no, he wanted much, much more. If she were once his he would never let her go, never want her to be touched or loved by another man.
Her home meant everything to her. Could he persuade her to leave it for his home? Robert had a large and prosperous estate, on which several hundred men and women relied for their livelihoods. He could not walk away from his duty. Her house was a pretty place and the woods were nice, but his woods were of equal size and alive with the red deer and, other small mammals and birds. His
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