Society dictates that a governessshould be modest, quiet, and keep to herself.

She should never contradict her employer.

And, above all, she must not attract the attention of any male in the household.

But Michael Severson doesn't see Isabel Halloran as a governess—he sees her as a woman, one whose lush curves cannot be hidden behind a dowdy gown ... and whose efforts at hiding her sparkling intelligence are betrayed by her wit.

Years before, Michael had left Regency England, falsely accused of a crime. Now he is back, dedicated to seeking retribution—but not to taking a bride. But when his scandalous actions compromise Isabel's reputation, he does the unthinkable and offers her his hand—a marriage in name only.

But although his bride's passions are untried, Isabel's sensuality clearly matches his own. And with each day, and night, that passes, Michael becomes determined that every kiss, every caress, will be made with one goal: to seduce his proper wife into tender submission.

Temptation of a Proper Governess

Avon Books

Chapter One

March 1804

Miss Lillian Wardley's bed was empty.Isabel Halloran, her governess, greetedthe sight with a combination of frustration andpanic. Lillian had a reputation for beingpromiscuous. Curbing her wild ways was oneof the duties Isabel had been hired to performthree months earlier.

Isabel did not need a clash of wills with Lilliantonight. She was fighting her own demonsor rather, one demon, Lord Riggs, Richard, aman she once believed she'd loved until he hadattempted to take her by force. He was a guestunder this roof, and she was determined toavoid him. She didn't want him to know she wasthere. The pain of his betrayal was still too fresh. Isabel had no desire to be out wandering thehalls, looking for her errant charge.

She should have known Lillian was up tosomething. The seventeen-year-old had beentoo quiet, too accommodating, and had excusedherself far too early for bed that evening. Herunquestioning obedience was out of characterand had disturbed Isabel enough for her to risefrom her own bed, throw her brown day dressover her nightgown, and check on Lillian.

It was half past midnight ... and she had asinking suspicion where Lillian might be.

Holding a protective hand around the candleflame, Isabel hurried across the hall to knock onNanny's door. It took more than one knock todisturb the older woman's sleep.

The door opened. "Miss Halloran, is theresomething with the children?? Nanny rasped,squinting at the candle flame. She had the careof Mr. Wardley's three younger children by hissecond wife, a very buxom former tavern girlwith ambition to match her husband's.

"Lillian is missing."

"Missing?" Nanny repeated without comprehension.

"She's not in her bed. I need your help findingher."

Nanny came awake. "Oh, dear." She opened the door while she reached for her dressinggown hanging on a nearby nail. "The last timeshe did this we found her with the stable lad.'Twas before your time. I know you've heardabout it."

"I thought I was making progress with her."

"I thought so, too." Nanny slipped her armsinto her gown, leaving her nightcap on herhead. "The Master had the boy transported toAustralia." Isabel had heard this story, butNanny never tired of repeating it. "He beggedfor mercy, he did, but the Master would hearnone of it. Them with the money makes therules. That's what my mother used to say. Let'spray Miss Lillian's not got another young laddiein trouble."

"No, I think she has her sights set higher." Isabelstarted for the stairs at the end of the hall.Her nightly braid had come loose, but shewasn't going to waste time rebraiding it.

Nanny moved with surprising speed andcaught Isabel's arm. "One of the guests? Why,the Master's friends are all rakes andscoundrels, even if they do have titles to theirnames. They'd gobble up a young girl, spit outher bones, and the Master wouldn't be able todo a thing about it."

"I know," Isabel answered. She couldn't an-swer for all of Mr. Wardley's guests, but Richardcertainly fit that description.

"We could lose our positions."

"Yes." Isabel was relieved that Nannygrasped exactly what was at stake.

"We'd best hurry," the older woman said asshe picked up a candle stub from the hall tableand lit it off Isabel's. The two women hurried towardthe stairs. "I wish the Master wouldmarry Miss Lillian off as soon as possible. Yes,she's young, but she is going to come to griefwith her wild ways."

Their master was Mr. Thomas Wardley, amerchant who had made his fortune brokeringwool to the army and fancied his money couldbuy his way into Society. He was fond of expandingon how he was part of the "new socialorder," where a man didn't need a title to be accepted.But the servants knew he desperatelywanted one; they often called him "Sir"Thomas behind his back.

And Isabel knew he was wrong about a newsocial order. The divide between the aristocracyand everyone else was deeper than the ocean.Richard had taught her that, just as he'd taughther that a title didn't make a man a gentleman.The five titled gentlemen visiting this week were supposedly there for hunting -- althoughno one had gone hunting yet. Instead, thedownstairs reeked of port and brandy, andNanny and Isabel had their hands full keepingthe children away from bad influences.

The two women reached the floor where theguest bedrooms were. Candles in wall sconceshad the area ablaze with light. Mr. Wardleymight be stingy with his servants, but no expensewas spared for guests.

Isabel paused. The footman who usually satin a chair at the top of the stairs leading down tothe main floor was missing from his post. Shefelt a cold suspicion.

The quiet of the hall was broken by a burst ofboisterous male laughter drifting up the stairsfrom the dining room where the gentlemenliked to play cards. "They are having a rowdygood time tonight," Nanny muttered.

"I don't know why Mrs. Wardley toleratesit," Isabel said.

"The Mistress is usually down there withthem."

Isabel frowned but feared she'd already saidtoo much. A governess walked a fine line. Shewas a servant and yet had a higher standingthan the others. It didn't help the situation that Isabel was not good at being subservient. Pridewas her besetting sin, and she didn't like itwhenher employers pretended shewas invisible.

"You don't think Miss Lillian is down therewith them?" Nanny wondered in round tones.

"No." Isabel studied the closed doors liningthe hall. "Which room do you believe is Mr.Severson's?"

The mention of the man's name broughtforth a gasp of horror from Nanny ...Continues...

Excerpted from Temptation of a Proper Governessby Maxwell, Cathy Excerpted by permission.
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