Wild Heart. Lori BrightonЧитать онлайн книгу.
Fran could control. She leaned closer to Lord Roberts, her immense bosom nearly falling from her low neckline. “Impossible to find a decent lady’s maid.”
Ella resisted the urge to respond. She would certainly not miss the woman. Fran wheezed between gulps of air, her face red with barely concealed effort. Ella reached out, taking her hand. How much longer could the girl last, forced to work as hard as she was? Blast Lady Buckley and her uncaring soul!
“And how was your trip?” Lord Roberts asked, obviously trying to change the subject. Thank the Heavens someone had sense.
Lady Buckley sighed. “Quite uneventful. Still, I am rather exhausted. If I may be shown to a room where I may rest?”
“Of course.”
Ella felt a moment of panic and the insane desire to bring up the weather, anything to delay their departure from the room. No, no it couldn’t be over, not already! She tightened her hold on Fran’s thin fingers. “I want you to keep my necklace,” she whispered as Lord Roberts assisted Lady Buckley from her chair.
Fran shook her head, wisps of her red hair swaying around her pale, narrow face. “No, absolutely not. You know ’ow I am. I’d lose it and I know ’ow important that piece is to you.”
Ella pulled the necklace free from underneath her collar. “But Fran—”
Fran sighed and rubbed the silver pendant with the pad of her thumb, tracing the foreign man. “Ella, I won’t take it. Your uncle sent that pendant to you all the way from India.”
Hesitating but a moment, Ella slipped the necklace back under her dress, the heathen piece hidden from Buckley’s beady eyes. “Who will tame my hair in the morning? Who will I talk to about my silly problems? Who will I go to if the servants are cruel?”
Fran smiled, took one of Ella’s golden brown curls and tugged on the strand, letting it bounce back into place. “You’ll do fine on your own.”
“Francine,” Lady Buckley snapped. “Come.”
Ella stood and hugged Fran, forcing herself not to worry over her friend’s frail condition. “I’ll save my money, won’t spend a cent. Someday we’ll open the millinery shop your mum always wanted you to have.”
“I know you will. Friends,” Fran said and moved from Ella’s grasp. Before she could hear Ella’s response, Fran was at Lady Buckley’s side, both disappearing out the door.
“Forever and ever,” Ella whispered.
As if mocking her inner turmoil, a low rumble of thunder shook the building, rattling the window panes. Ella’s fingers curled into her soft muslin skirt as she resisted the urge to run after her friend.
“Miss Finch.” Lord Roberts shuffled toward her, a smile lighting his weathered face. The thump of his cane was the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. Too quiet, too lonely after the loud commotion from upstairs.
She curtsied, refusing to give into the sting of tears. How could Lady Buckley do this to her? She was not a carriage to be borrowed by the neighbors when the need arose. “Lord Roberts.”
“Do you believe in fate, Miss Finch?”
Her lips parted to speak, but confusion held her silent. Of everything she’d expected him to say, this was the last on her list. How, exactly, did the man wish for her to respond?
“You see,” he said, stilling in front of her. “The fact that I needed a governess just as Lady Buckley’s children had grown is all very serendipitous. Do you not agree?”
“Of course,” she murmured, knowing better than to disagree.
“I’ve had a bit of trouble finding a tutor for my grandson. And then I heard from Lady Buckley and I just knew you’d be perfect.”
“My lord, you do understand that I was merely a companion to Lady Buckley’s daughters, not exactly a governess.”
He waved his hand through the air, dismissing her comment. “Of course, but she explained you did quite well with the younger children.”
It was true she’d taught Lady Buckley’s youngest daughters more than any governess would, but still, she had no experience with boys. Dare she tell Lord Roberts, or should she keep her mouth shut?
“Come, I’ll show you to your room.” Lord Roberts took her arm and they started toward the doors. “You will love it here. The countryside is a pure delight. And the ocean…you do like the ocean?”
“Yes, very much,” she replied.
She tried to slow her racing emotions, but the moment they stepped into her foyer, her stomach clenched. She bit her lower lip as if the act could prevent her from getting sick all over his marble floor. Not right. Something was definitely not right. Her footsteps echoed up the stairs, the sound slamming against her head, like a hammer against stone. The feelings were so familiar she’d never mistake them for nerves.
“No, not now,” she whispered.
“Did you say something, my dear?”
She shook her head and focused on the foyer, desperate to think of anything but what was bound to happen. Compared to the Buckley’s golden Georgian home, this castle felt oppressive. The dark stone walls seemed to press down on her, suffocating, watching.
A loud crash sounded from above. A crash similar to the one she’d heard only moments before. Ella gasped, her hand tightening on Lord Roberts’s arms.
“The sea is but a five-minute walk from the house. There’s a trail that leads from the back of the estate to the shore,” he added as if he hadn’t heard the loud sound from above. Dear Lord, was he hard of hearing? Or was she insane?
“The sea? Lovely,” Ella murmured, feeling she ought to say something. She rested her hand on her chest, taking small comfort in the familiar hardness of the pendant underneath her bodice. But the moment her foot hit the first step the vibrations flared, thrumming under the surface of her skin, growing stronger with each step.
“I’ve known Lady Buckley for…”
Blood roared into her ears, drowning out Lord Roberts’s words. She knew what was happening, she knew it was wrong, but God help her, she knew she couldn’t stop the torment. As always, the hum started deep inside her core, a soft vibration that pulsed up her body until it burst into a cry that clenched around her heart. “The gift,” her mother had called her powers. “The curse,” Lady Buckley had condemned.
Lord Roberts continued to ramble, his voice a hollow murmur she couldn’t quite comprehend. He led her down a dark hall, past door, after door, after door. She was barely aware of where they traveled, if her feet touched the ground, if she still stood in her own body.
“Here you are.” His words roared through her ears like crashing waves breaking through the silence. “The room has a view of the back gardens and on a clear day, you can see the ocean. I hope you find the accommodations to your liking.” He smiled and used his cane to nudge open the last door in the hall.
The large room wavered, before finally focusing into a fairy forest of gold and green.
“Your things should be waiting. If you need anything, just ring. I’ll be up in a bit to escort you to my grandson.”
With that said, he bowed and left. Eager to be alone, Ella stumbled into the room, closing the door behind her. Her heart raced in her chest, her mouth dry. Familiar feelings, but completely inappropriate at the moment.
“Why now?” she whispered, looking heavenward.
She took in a deep breath and moved to the narrow windows, pushing them wide. A crisp breeze swept inside, rustling the thick, green curtains and providing relief to her fevered skin. Below, a rich and colorful garden thrived. There wasn’t enough light to see the ocean, but the flowers below would be a merry sight to greet her every morning. She leaned forward and breathed deep. The perfumed scent of