Read Online The Impossible Governess by Margaret Bennett - Free Book Online

told him where she found each.
    “If we were in the country, Georgie says we could find lots more.”
    Raynor glanced over his shoulder to where Georgeanne still sat at the table.  “You’ve done quite well, Miss Forsythe.”
    Georgeanne was surprised and gratified to observe Lord Raynor’s easy manner with Marissa, who was getting along famously with her uncle.  He’d quite lost all of his haughtiness, unbending enough to even soil the knee of his form fitting trousers.  Really, he was so very handsome, she thought taking in the broad of his shoulders, the way his dark hair turned up over the collar of his dark blue jacket.
    Raynor sensed Georgeanne’s unwavering study of him.  He pushed the drawer closed, stood up, and observed a residue of the blush his praise had brought to Georgeanne’s cheeks.  His gaze locked with her emerald green orbs before they strayed to the floor and opened as wide as saucers. 
    Then a mouse scurried out from under the dresser and, like a shot, headed directly toward Georgeanne.  Before his eyes, she transformed from a demure, pretty young woman to a screaming fishwife, hollowing in abject fear.  Leaping out of her seat, she hiked her skirts high and scrambled onto the seat of another chair.  She danced about on tiptoe while watching the rodent race about, searching for cover in the relatively sparsely furnished schoolroom.
    Meanwhile, Marissa added to the confusion, clutching his legs and screaming, “What is it? What is it, Uncle Tony?”
    Spotting Georgeanne’s tiny nemesis, Raynor went into action.  “Stay here, Marissa,” he said, prying her hands loose from his trousers and lifting her up on the table. 
    Pandemonium broke out as the mouse doubled back for the table.  Georgeanne pulled her skirts even higher and joined Marissa on the table top.  Her actions momentarily diverted Raynor.  He paused in his self-appointed task as mouse catcher and ogled the delightful bit of leg his comely governess was displaying.
    Marissa, clinging to Georgeanne, cried out, “What is it, Georgie?”
    “A mouse, ohhhh, a mouse!”
    Totally baffled, his lordship eyed the two hysterical females.  How any sensible person could be frightened by a mere mouse was beyond his understanding.  However, it was obvious something must be done to restore some semblance of order to the schoolroom.  Thus, he tromped after the erratically running rodent, from one end of the room to the next and back again.
    “Come here, you ugly varmint!” he ground out in disgust.  He once more crossed the floor in hurried strides.  He dodged pieces of furniture lying in wait to ambush him and finally cornered the mouse.
    “Got you!” he shouted.  He stomped one gleaming Hessian on the floor.  “Damn you, you maggoty creature!” he bellowed a s the rodent leaped over his other booted foot.
    From thei r vantage point, huddled atop the table, Georgeanne giggled at the spectacle.  The absurdity of the entire situation had managed to penetrate her mind.  Marissa slowly stopped crying long enough to ask what was so funny.
    “Why, your uncle, Marissa,” Georgeanne said between chuckles. 
    Then Marissa regarded her usually dignified, starchy uncle as he knocked over chairs and vaulted tables and stools.  She joined Georgeanne when, unable to skid to a halt, Raynor slammed into a wall.  However, one look at the murderous glaze burning in his eyes convinced Georgeanne that Raynor’s efforts to catch the mouse had turned from chivalry to a blood lust.
    After one particularly bruising encounter with the corner of a table, Raynor stopped to catch his breath and scan the room for the evasive rodent.  Slowly the merry laughter coming from the two on top of the table pierced the red haze in his mind.
    “O—over there,” gasped Georgeanne, pointing one slender digit in front of his face toward a walnut closet against the wall.  Instead of looking in the direction of her index finger, his eyes traced the line