So in Love by Karen Ranney Page B

could hate him for his constancy now. Where had he been when she’d needed him?
    The door opened and she turned, thinking that it wasDavis returning from the water closet. Instead, it was Robert Hartley. Not only was he early for their meeting, but she’d not expected him to come to the schoolroom.
    Moving from the window, she began stacking the books and slates she and Davis had used in their lessons.
    “You’re very industrious, Jeanne,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb and watching her. “I pay the maids to clean.”
    “I find that it serves as a good example to be tidy,” she said, wishing that he would go away. Although this encounter was weeks in coming, she dreaded it. “Your son is coming along well in his numbers.”
    He waved a hand in the air as if dismissing her comments about Davis. Jeanne hid her irritation and continued straightening the schoolroom.
    “I hear good things about you from the rest of the staff,” he said.
    She glanced at him and then away, certain that he would add to that remark. But he didn’t, surprising her.
    “That is good to hear, sir.” She busied herself by taking the slate Davis had used and placing it atop the bookcase. Turning her back on Hartley, she prayed that he would simply take her hint and leave.
    Instead, he moved closer to her. “Are you so intent upon pushing me away, Jeanne? You should know that it will not affect me in the slightest.”
    “Then what will?” she asked, turning and facing him.
    He smiled at her, a perfectly charming expression if one didn’t notice the predatory gleam in his eyes.
    She thought that he might back down if she confronted him. Instead, he seemed delighted that the subject had finally been broached.
    “I can suggest a different arrangement than that of governess and employer,” he said. “I can set you up with your own house, with a carriage and a small allowance. Nothinglarge, of course, but enough that you would be happy. All that I ask is that you keep yourself available for me a few nights a week. That arrangement, surely, would not be as onerous as being a governess.”
    “I would like to be able to hold my head up in society,” she said civilly. “The post of mistress, unfortunately, would not allow me to do so.”
    “Does it matter what other people think, Jeanne?” he murmured. “This arrangement would be of benefit to both of us. Is society so very important to you?”
    More than half her life had been spent being groomed for her place as the Comte du Marchand’s daughter. She’d spent the last decade paying the price for forgetting that role. Only one man had the ability to tempt her from it again. But instead of the truth, she lied straight-faced. “Yes,” she said. “The good will of society is very important to me.”
    “Perhaps I could convince you to ignore it.” He took a step closer and she willed herself not to move. “You’ve filled out nicely in the last few months,” he said, his gaze traveling insultingly slowly down her body.
    Reaching out, he cupped her breast, smiling lightly.
    She’d had experience with men like him, men who preyed on others weaker or more vulnerable than they. She held herself stiffly, and didn’t move despite the fact that his thumb flicked back and forth over her nipple. Was he such a fool that he thought a woman was only a collection of parts? Either her heart must be involved or her mind before her body welcomed a man.
    “Davis is of an age to be sent away to school,” he said, finally moving his hand. “If I did that, Jeanne, I wouldn’t require a governess for several more years.”
    “You must do what you think is right, sir,” she said, hating him for threatening her. She had survived France; she would survive anything that happened in the future. Butfear had been a constant enough companion in the last three months that it returned easily, another reason to dislike Hartley intensely.
    Bullies were odious regardless of their nationality.
    “Right