The Governess Club: Louisa Read Online Free Page B

don’t,” she growled at the pot and tried again. She placed her fingers in the same spot and lifted the pot again. One more half inch and she would have it.
    But the chair had other plans. Too unbalanced, it tipped to the side and Louisa felt herself fall with it. Her hand on the pot flailed, trying to right herself and the chair, but to no avail. The shelf shuddered under the unexpected weight of her panicked grip, the clay pots jostling together, ringing in the quiet of the office. She gasped, “Oh no,” before feeling all the support underneath her give way and she knew she was falling.
    Just as the chair slid that final inch from under her and her fingers lost their grip on the shelf, quick footsteps came up behind her and strong arms circled her waist, lifting her to safety. The chair clattered to the floor and the clay pots settled, the office resuming its previous tranquility.
    “Are you all right? Injured in any way?” Mr. Taylor’s deep voice rumbled in her ear. He held her effortlessly against him, her legs dangling in the air.
    The breath from his voice warmed her ear and neck, causing a flutter to travel down her spine. Louisa blinked as she registered the hard chest against her back and the arms around her waist. They were strong, confident, and she knew that he would not drop her; it was beyond his ability to do so. Her back curved into his body, instinctively adjusting to him, and she had to fight the urge to lean her head back onto his shoulder. Good Lord, but he truly was Giant Johnny, easily surpassing his fellow men in both size and strength. The knowledge trilled through her blood.
    What in the blazes am I thinking? she asked herself, shaking herself out of this surprising reverie. She cleared her throat. “Release me now.” Her voice was clipped and she consciously softened it to add, “Please. I am fine.”
    She felt his hesitation, but he slid her down after a moment, holding on to her waist until her feet were steady on the floor. “You are certain you are uninjured?” he asked.
    Louisa stepped away from him, the distance between their bodies welcome despite her skin itching to return to his embrace. That would not do. “Yes.”
    He was rubbing his head when she turned to look at him. “What were you thinking?” he asked. His tone was irate.
    She lifted her chin. “Mr. Packard sent me to fetch him one of the pots.” She gestured to the dangling instruments, still swaying from the incident.
    “And you thought the best way to fetch one was to stand on a damaged chair?”
    “I could not reach. What would you have me do?”
    “Did it occur to you to find someone who is taller than you?”
    “Why would it? The chair was convenient and was serving quite well. I had no need for anyone’s help.”
    Mr. Taylor’s eyes narrowed and they turned black with anger. “No need? Then what do you call falling off the chair and my keeping you from harm? Was that not needing help?”
    Sniffing, Louisa looked away. “I did not say I needed you to rescue me.”
    “If I hadn’t, you would likely be unconscious on the floor, perhaps even dead.” His voice was laced with displeasure. Tension radiated off him. She would not have been surprised to see him assume a prizefighter’s stance, his muscles were so tight.
    “There is no call for such dramatics,” she huffed.
    “Packard!” Mr. Taylor bellowed, making her jump. He reached up and retrieved the pot she had risked her safety to get. A shot of annoyance ran through her at how easily he accomplished the task. The cook appeared in the doorway and Giant Johnny thrust the pot at him, his eyes not leaving Louisa. “In the future, Mrs. Brock is not to fetch these pots.” He silenced her protest with a slash of his hand. “She is too short and it risks her safety. Either yourself or I will get them, or anyone who is tall enough, for that matter.”
    “Yes, sir.” Mr. Packard gave a sharp nod, no question or hesitation in his voice. He didn’t