Sleep was impossible. First there had been bags to pack and then there were arrangements to be made for Grandpapa. To Anna’s surprise, he took the news of her new position at Greyley House without comment. He even allowed her to dash off a missive to their cousin, Lady Dandry, asking if she could come for a visit while Anna was gone. Grandpapa usually complained loudly about having to spend time with cousin Elmira, but this time he merely shrugged.

It was late when Anna finally went to bed. But not to rest. The quiet worked against her, and the memory of Greyley’s kiss again intruded on her thoughts. Once there, her mind stopped and lingered, dwelling on the moment in far more detail than necessary.

She was certain the kiss had been exceptional. Warm and firm, with a hint of determined command, the embrace had left her breathless. Breathless and wanting more.

Not that she would pursue such a silly desire. She had merely been intrigued. Yes, intrigued and…and infuriated. That’s what had caused her to feel slightly dizzy, all flushed and uncomfortable, as if a slow fever were consuming her. She kicked off her blankets at the remembrance and wished it was light enough to rise. Inactivity was conducive to restless thoughts. She’d have been much happier if she’d been up doing something. Anything other than thinking of the feel of Greyley’s mouth on hers.

The bounder had proven his rakehell tendencies by that damnable kiss. He was a man used to getting his own way, a man who had dallied far too long in the immoral arts. Certainly it had been far too well-practiced, far too…too…She sighed. The kiss had been all together too enjoyable and she knew it.

Fortunately she wasn’t a slave to her physical impulses like some people she could name. No, she was in control of herself and her surroundings at all time. Besides, there had always been a heated tension between them. It soothed her vanity to know that it wasn’t onesided.

Still, she would have to take care that it never happened again; Greyley was a dangerously attractive man. And the entire episode confirmed that he was also desperately in need of some guidance. For that reason alone, Anna was willing to overcome her natural hesitancy in accepting this position. She owed her friend Sara that much, if not more. Anna would set the nursery to rights, and in the process, she’d also do what she could to straighten out Sara’s misguided brother.

Of course, the proposition was not without risk. Greyley was arrogant and self-serving, and like other men of his set, he had to have other unattractive qualities. Perhaps he was addicted to drink and gaming; his kiss had proven that he was a practiced rakehell bent on seducing whoever was available. To a man with such a lack of moral rectitude, an impoverished governess would be fair game.

The thought made Anna tingle all over. Excitement at the challenge of proving him wrong, no doubt. How she relished the thought. She would avoid his attempts at seduction, focus her attentions on the children, and win the day.

Best yet, when she left, she’d demand a letter of recommendation written in his own hand, which she would frame and hang over the fireplace in her new abode, a reminder of what could be accomplished if one only persevered. All she had to do was keep her objectives firmly in sight and maintain a safe distance from Greyley.

She sighed in the darkness and rolled onto her side, curling around an extra pillow. In her first position as governess, she had worked for the Harbuckles, a pleasant enough family on the fringe of society. Well-moneyed due to Lord Harbuckle’s involvement in the textile industry, and vaguely connected to the Duke of York through a distant cousin by marriage, Lady Harbuckle had seen Anna as a way to further her own social standing. After all, the Thraxtons were related to almost everyone, from the prince on down and Anna had freely mingled with the best of society until only recently.

Thus Lady Harbuckle had treated Anna as a guest, insisting that she eat dinner with the family several times during the week, asking her opinion on fashion, driving with her in the park. At first Anna had been thankful, for she hadn’t relished her loss of standing, and Lady Harbuckle had made it plain that she considered Anna something more than a servant. Naively, Anna had welcomed Lady Harbuckle’s overtures of friendship.

All had gone well until Lady Harbuckle’s younger brother, a glib wastrel by the name of Lord Talbert, arrived for a visit. Handsome in a blurry, undefined sort of way, he had immediately attached himself to Anna’s side, despite her determined efforts to keep him at bay. Lady Harbuckle seemed to be amused at her brother’s florid compliments and she would not hear Anna’s attempts to hint that she was being made uncomfortable.

Anna decided that perhaps she was overreacting to Lord Talbert’s wholesome compliments. After all, it was obvious that Talbert was a practiced flirt. Unfortunately, he was also a pompous ass who believed his money and purchased title gave him the right to access the beds of every female in the household. Anna’s attempt to ignore the young lord merely urged him to new heights of impropriety.

Things got more and more uncomfortable until one fateful night Talbert, drunk as a fox, forced his way into Anna’s chamber. Had it not been for the nearness of her bedpan, which she used on His Lordship’s rather hard head to dissuade him from his nefarious intentions, Anna was certain she’d have been ravished.

The ruckus caused by Lord Talbert’s cry of pain on being crowned with the bedpan caused the entire household to come running. To Anna’s shock, Lady Harbuckle listened to her explanation in cold, disbelieving silence. As soon as Anna finished speaking, Lady Harbuckle had called Anna a liar and worse, suggesting that the entire incident was Anna’s fault for “tempting the poor boy.”

Anna would listen to no more. She had gathered her things and left. She’d been forced to walk almost seven blocks lugging her overstuffed portmanteau, before she found a hackney to take her the rest of the way.

She arrived home furious and heartbroken, ready to renounce her chosen profession. She’d naively believed that Lady Harbuckle had regarded her as something more than a governess. But now Anna knew the truth—she was a governess and she would never again be friends with a member of her own set. It was a bitter lesson to learn.

A good night’s sleep and a week of calm reflection had made Anna all the more determined to succeed. She was a governess, and by God, she’d be the best one in all of England. Furthermore, she’d be damned if she’d let a slug like Talbert thwart her.

True to form, Lady Harbuckle lost no time in informing the world that her new governess had attempted to lure her brother into sin, claiming that Anna had wished to secure the drunken sot as a husband. Had it not been for the Harbuckles’ limited social standing and Grandpapa’s successful manipulation of his cronies, most of whom were society’s most established gossipmongers, it would have been the end of Anna’s career.

From that day on, she set rigid rules for her own behavior. Rules that protected her from importuning younger brothers and philandering male cousins who came to visit when their pockets were to let. Never again would she allow protestations of friendship to draw her above stairs. Anna had been successful until Lucinda Dandridge had convinced her to attend her soirée. Anna sighed heavily. Even that small foray into the ton had been an error.

Now, apparently not content to err only once, she’d compounded her error by kissing her future employer. There was no excuse for it. And it would not happen again. Anna sat up and tossed the sheets aside. The first pale glow of dawn approached, breaking through the cracks in the curtains and casting long fingers of pale light across the rug.

That was all Anna needed. She hurriedly rose and pulled on a gown. The rest of the morning was taken up in a flurry of preparations that did not leave time for useless wonderings about Greyley’s kiss or her own heated reaction.

At exactly ten, Anna sat in a stiff-backed chair by the fireplace in the front room, waiting. The carriage arrived only a few moments later, just as Anthony promised. Anna held her breath as the door creaked open, and Hawkes beamed as he announced the earl. Taking a deep calming breath, Anna stood and faced the earl.

Dressed for riding in buff breeches, black boots, a blue coat stretched across his broad shoulders, he looked devastatingly handsome. He came to an abrupt halt on seeing her. “Good God, what are you wearing?”

Anna’s hands went to the stiff skirts. It was an old gown, one she’d consigned to the attic long ago, brought out only for the annual spring cleaning she insisted occur each and every year, much to Mrs. Duckrow’s chagrin. Anna suspected the dress, made of stiff gray bombazine, had once been a mourning gown, for it relentlessly covered her from neck to foot. But it was plain and functional, and would serve to remind both her and Greyley of her position in his household.

He lifted his eyeglass from where it hung from his waistcoat and regarded her from head to foot. “Did you make it yourself?”

“No, I did not,” Anna replied. “Though you should be glad I didn’t for I could have taken offense at your tone.”

“You have too much sense to be such a ninny.” He dropped the eyeglass and let it swing back and forth on its ribbon. “You look like a nun. What’s that gown made of? Sackcloth?”

“No. It’s very good bombazine.”

“The blue gown you had on yesterday had more…” He gestured vaguely. “…drapery or something. I liked it better.”

“How intriguing,” she replied flatly.

“I daresay you don’t care what I think of your clothing. Still, I demand an explanation. Women never dress without thought.”

“This gown is proper attire for a governess. And that, my lord, is exactly what I am.”

“Ah. I see what this is. It’s about that kiss.”

Conceited ass. “It’s about our relationship. What happened yesterday can never happen again. It was…inexcusable.”

He frowned. “I thought it was pretty damned good, myself.”

A conceited, arrogant ass. Anna smiled through her teeth. “I daresay you did. However, for purposes of our ability to work together in a professional, courteous atmosphere, we must remember our roles. I am the governess, and you, Lord Greyley, are my employer. Kisses are not permitted.”

Anthony had passed the entire carriage ride on the way there practicing a curtly worded, but beautifully adept speech voicing that exact same opinion. So he should have welcomed Anna’s attempt to draw the lines he’d so carelessly crossed. But strangely enough, he didn’t. Instead, her attempts to put him off made him want to get closer, if for no other reason than to prove that he could.

He rubbed a finger along his bottom lip, savoring the memory of that one, brief kiss. “We’re to share no kisses at all?”

“None.”

Some imp of madness urged him on. “Not even at Christmas? Under the mistletoe?”

Her back stiffened with annoyance and she said with great finality, “Not even then. Not that it matters, for I don’t plan on being at Greyley House during Christmas. If all goes well, I will be done by November, at the latest.”

He almost felt sorry for the children, facing such a determined governess as Miss Thraxton. She was an intriguing combination of certainty and challenge. Had he any manners at all, he would have let her be. But there was something about the way she stood, all prim and proper, as if she were a good deal better than he, that irked him to death.

She probably was a good deal better than he, he conceded fairly. He doubted Anna Thraxton had done anything more reprehensible in her short life than utter an occasional curse, and he’d been the cause of most of those. The truth was that the mere thought of that damnable kiss had been irritating him since yesterday.

The entire incident had caught him unawares. But there was no denying his reaction, one so strong that it lingered with him even as he went to bed last night and caused him all sorts of heated, erotic dreams, all of which featured the prim Miss Thraxton doing a number of not-so-prim activities on, and under, his naked person.

Anthony wasn’t a man used to dealing with the impossible. He also wasn’t a man given to impulses. His whole life had been dedicated to dealing with the undisciplined actions of his Elliot relatives, and in return his life and actions were focused on precision and discipline. But somehow Anna Thraxton tantalized him. Just the way she looked at him through her thickly lashed gray eyes made him want to beat her at her own game. And right now that game was seeing if she could keep him at arm’s length.

Still, it wouldn’t do to scare her off. He needed her at Greyley House. “You have my word as a gentleman that I will not attempt to kiss you…unless, of course, you ask me to.”

“That will never happen.”

Wouldn’t it? It would be interesting to see what exactly would happen. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes. My portmanteau is in the hallway, as is a trunk.”

Anthony went to the door and opened it wide. “After you, Miss Thraxton.”

She swept forward, head held at a regal angle, her stiff skirts rustling noisily as she went. Anthony leaned forward as she walked past. She was so tall, the top of her head was at a level with his eyes. It was unusual that he had such access to a woman and he couldn’t help but inhale her scent as it wafted by. She smelled of lemon and rose, a tempting combination that made him want to linger near.

He watched as she pulled on her pelisse and briskly ordered her servant to place her things on the carriage. Then, without so much as glancing behind her to see if Anthony was following, she marched outside. He grinned and took his time meandering after her. Perhaps this was indeed the woman to tame the hellions who had invaded his house.

Despite her misgivings about her employer, Anna couldn’t help but appreciate the luxurious coach. Large and well-sprung, it boasted all the comforts available. No creaking, lumbering conveyance for the Earl of Greyley. This handsome vehicle would never rattle through a tollgate or cause the occupants’ legs to lose their feelings from lack of springs. And even more attractive was the lively black gelding that was tied to the back of the carriage.

Anna felt Greyley’s approach and she wondered why she let him infuriate her so. He was being deliberately irksome and she detested the way he lagged behind, watching her with that amused, sleepy glint in his eyes that made her yearn to box his ears. But she was a Thraxton and the Thraxtons had never met an enemy they couldn’t subdue.

“Anna.” Grandpapa’s voice came from directly behind her. “Are we departing already?”

Anna turned. Grandpapa stood at the bottom step, elegantly clad in black traveling breeches and a frock coat of blue superfine, clutching his gold-knobbed cane in one hand. At his feet sat a portmanteau.

Anna looked at the portmanteau. “We?”

“I’m coming with you,” he said, beaming amiably. “After much thought, I’ve decided that a few months in the country would do me a world of good.”

Good God, no! He had to be teasing…but one look at his face made Anna’s heart sink. “You want to come with me? But…you’ve never asked before.”

“It’s too cold in this drafty house.”

“Yes, but…it’s August.”

“The nights still bring a chill.” He smiled brightly. “Perhaps I might be of assistance in the nursery. I’m very good with children, you know.”

“You’d be bored to tears. None of your friends will be able to visit and—”

“Oh, I can correspond with them. I daresay Greyley would even frank my post, wouldn’t you?”

Greyley regarded the older man for a long moment. “Would you refrain from handing out French sheaths to my servants?”

“I’ll try to resist,” Grandpapa returned, his blue eyes twinkling.

There seemed to be an understanding between the two that set Anna’s teeth on edge. “Grandpapa, I’ve already made arrangements—”

“Cancel ’em.” He used his cane to shove his portmanteau at the waiting footman, who obligingly picked it up and went to strap it to the back of the coach. “I’ve no wish to see cousin Elmira. Boring woman who likes nothing better than to talk about all the dead people she knows.” Grandpapa limped to the side of the carriage and the morning sun touched his pale cheeks. His very pale cheeks.

Anna frowned. Now that she looked at him, Grandpapa appeared to be limping worse than usual, as well. Was he taking ill?

The earl’s lazy drawl sounded at her shoulder. “Let him come, Miss Thraxton. Greyley House has more than enough room.”

“But the governess quarters cannot be—”

“You won’t be staying in the governess quarters, but in one of the guest suites.”

She gazed at him with a suspicious stare, but he just shrugged. “The governess quarters suffered a slight accident involving a large amount of very sticky honey and a pillow full of feathers. Therefore, until it is back to normal, you will be in the guest suite. There is an adjoining room that will suit your grandfather well.”

“There,” Sir Phineas said, hobbling toward the open carriage door. “All settled then. Greyley, will you be joining us in the coach?”

“I’ll be riding,” the earl said, glancing at the footman who was even now untying the gelding from the back of the coach.

“If you get cold, feel free to join us,” Sir Phineas said airily, as if he’d just conferred a great honor. “I’ve much to discuss with you regarding the current state of the linen workers in your part of the country. I daresay you hear a great bit about that.”

To give the earl credit, only the faintest hint of surprise showed on his face. “I shall look forward to it.” He bowed, then mounted his horse with an amazing amount of grace for someone so large. His gaze settled on Anna and he touched the brim of his hat. “I will see you at Greyley House.” He turned the horse down the street and urged it on.

Anna watched until he was well out of sight, and then turned to find Grandpapa’s smiling gaze on her. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, his smile widening.

But it was something, she could tell. She always knew when Grandpapa had some devilry in mind. And Anna was bound and determined to discover what it was.