Page 40 of His One and Only Lady

He’d completely flummoxed Purity.

She gave a slight shake of her dark head. No impetuous curl sprang free today, more was the pity. She had glorious hair. Thick and luxurious like a mink but teeming with curls a man longed to comb his fingers through.

“Forgive me. Are you suggesting a position that lasts beyond the house party?”

He cursed inwardly at the tiny spark of hope in her gorgeous eyes and the inflection in her voice she couldn’t disguise.

“I am.”

Though the devil on his shoulder screamed he’d come to regret it. “At twice the wages you received from the Ceddes. These next weeks can act as a probationary period. If things go well, then we can discuss a lengthy contract.”

It was done, then.

Theran had become a full-blown, besotted imbecile.

No, not besotted. Merely willing to do whatever was necessary to give his daughter the best upbringing he could provide, and Purity Mayfield was clearly critical to that endeavor.

At least for now.

Then why did he have the overwhelming yearning to take her into his arms and kiss her until they were both breathless? To nuzzle the silken column of her throat and run his tongue over the shell of her ear?

“Even knowing I am a person of faith?” Purity ventured with an air of confidence.

That cooled his arduous musings.

“I don’t perceive your beliefs as an impediment.” She wouldn’t throw herself at him and beg him to take her as Athena had. A virtuous woman helping raise his daughter might be a boon.

Theran shrugged then picked off a bit of hay Bernadine must’ve left on his sleeve when he’d picked her up. “I do ask that you restrain from unduly influencing Bernadine. When she reaches an age of understanding and maturity, she can make those choices for herself.”

Purity remained silent for several seconds. So long, in truth, he believed she’d decline the offer. She suddenly graced him with one of her blinding smiles. Not the practiced, professional upward tilt of her mouth, but the unrestrained expression of happiness.

“I accept.”

“Excellent.” Theran couldn’t decide if the knot in his belly was relief that he’d found a suitable governess or anxiety that he’d made a monumental mistake. “I shall have my man of affairs draft a contract.”

“As you wish, though I am content to wait until the probationary period is over.”

Aunt Melvelia would be beside herself with excitement.

Hiring an attractive governess—one whom Theran had already admitted, if only to himself, that he desired—was not prudent.

Bollocks.

He was more than capable of controlling his baser urges. Besides, midnight swims in freezing ponds awaited if his body refused to adhere to the directives of his mind.

“I’ll see you at the boat races and picnic, I presume,” Purity asked as she turned toward the exit.

“Yes. I’m racing with two chums.”

What time was it anyway?

After he’d stood them up for cricket, Everingham and Hemsworth would be vexed if he was late.

“I shall see you then, Mr. Rutland.” She paused, the bright light from the open door illuminating her silhouette with an ethereal glow. She looked angelic. “Thank you.”

Her gratitude eviscerated him, cleaved his hardened heart in two.

What must it be like to be dependent upon the good graces of others? To monitor every word and censure every action to ensure continued favor and employment? He’d never known poverty or want. As the privileged third son of a lord, his path had been paved with comfort and wealth.