The Vicar's Frozen Heart by Karyn Gerrard Page B

steady.
    He muttered under his breath and turned away, facing the window again.
    “And do not tell me it was merely to feel alive in the face of death, though I understand the reason. There is more. Tell me.” She stepped toward him, laying her hand gently on the sleeve of his wool coat. The muscles tightened under her touch.
    “I suppose....” he replied in a gruff voice, “it’s the usual rationale when a man kisses a woman. I desire you.”
    Eliza closed her eyes . Yes. The truth at last. “Regardless of my confession to you, I’m not a woman of loose morals. I made a mistake, a rather grave one that cost me my position. Believe me, I was under no illusions that the young earl’s son cared for me, nor do I harbor deep feelings for him. I wanted, like you did, to feel. Something. Anything. Warmth. Affection. I was lonely. Perhaps I still am.” She clutched his arm a little tighter. “If you desire me, why are you so...unapproachable? So cold and remote? Are you like this with everyone or just me?”
    “You are not making this easy, are you, Miss Winston?”
    “When we are alone, call me Eliza. You did before. And no, Tremain, I’m well aware I am not making this easy. If I possessed a lick of common sense, I would ignore what passed between us and leave this village at the earliest convenience. I certainly wouldn’t bring it up in conversation. But apparently I seem to be deficient in any sort of sense at all, especially where you are concerned. Answer me, please. Why are you so cold?”
    He turned to face her. For once the icy mask was not in place. Rather he showed confusion and vulnerability. “Perhaps you should leave. You disturb me, Eliza. You are shaking the very walls I placed around my heart. Cold? Remote? I suppose I am and have been since....”
    “Since when?”
    He shook his head in dismissal. “It is of no matter.”
    “You’ve told me this much,” she said softly. “Tell me what you were going to say.”
    He hesitated. “The war.”
    “What war? In Egypt?”
    “No. The Anglo-Zulu War. Forget I mentioned it. I am not here to discuss me. I desire you, but I will not act upon it. Rest assured.”
    She let her hand drop. It seemed the matter was closed. The war explained the injury to his leg and no doubt his disposition. She read of the returning soldiers’ plights in the newspapers. Many had a difficult time adjusting to life. Was Tremain one of them? Zulus? Wasn’t there a horrible slaughter of British soldiers three years ago? Now wasn’t the time to inquire about his war experiences.
    Tempting as it was to express her dubious disdain at his statement that he would not act upon his attraction toward her, she never made any declaration stating she would not pursue what existed between them. Yes, she apparently possessed no sense at all. Though if she did explore what lay between them, she would have to be cautious. That is, if she were even staying in the area.
    “I apologize for being less than polite to you. I shall endeavor to act more of a gentleman in the future.” The mask slipped back into place. Fine, she would let it go--for now.
    “Thank you. I accept your apology. Now, why are you here, if I may ask?”
    Tremain cleared his throat. “I’m here on behalf of Viscount Hawkestone. He instructed me to offer you a position as governess.”
    Eliza blinked rapidly in disbelief. Surely she heard incorrectly. Her legs turned to jelly as she struggled to stay upright. “A...a governess? Where?” she whispered.
    “To the young lad, Drew Payne. He is now in residence at Hawkestone Estate. If you accept the situation, you will be living there as well.”
    What to say? The answer to her, not prayers exactly, but her most fervent wishes and hopes. Honestly, she felt like crying, throwing herself at Tremain in relief. “I...I...” A lone tear trickled down her face. She tried to turn away but Tremain halted her, turning her to face him. They stood close enough that his alluring,