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The Nanny's Rules: Forbidden Desires novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: The Boathouse Man

Carys confronts Valen on the dark lawn, and next morning Posy speaks to her for the first time.

The grass was soaked, and the cold went straight through my socks.

The man did not turn around when I reached him.

"You're not supposed to be out here," he said.

His voice was low and rough.

"Neither are you," I said. "I read the contract. It's the only reason I'm still awake."

"The contract doesn't cover me."

"Rule eleven covers the boathouse. You're standing forty yards from it, on the wrong side of the lawn."

He finally looked at me.

He was maybe thirty-three, with dark hair damp from the mist and gray eyes.

His face looked like it had been carved by someone in a bad mood.

There was a dimple in his chin.

I had seen that dimple an hour ago, on a five-year-old.

"You're the nanny," he said.

"Carys Holliday. You're the third brother."

"Middle brother." His mouth did not quite smile. "Valen."

"Why are you standing under a little girl's window at midnight, Valen?"

"I'm not."

"You are. Your boots are sinking into her flower bed."

He looked down.

He took a step back and I swear he almost laughed.

"She sleeps badly," he said finally. "If a light goes on up there, I go in."

"Go in where? You're not allowed in the house."

"I'm not allowed to sleep in it."

"That's not what Conrad's rule says."

"Conrad's rules mean what Conrad needs them to mean."

The wind moved the wet branches over our heads.

I pulled my cardigan tighter and he noticed, and then he took off his coat and held it out without looking at me.

"Take it."

"I'm fine."

"Miss Holliday."

"You can call me Carys. Everyone does after the first fight."

He put the coat over my shoulders himself.

His hands were careful about it.

The coat smelled like cut pine and cold lake water.

I stood there, warm for the first time all day, and I did not move.

"Rule ten," he said quietly. "You read it."

"I did."

"It exists for a reason."

"The reason being?"

"Me."

He said it flatly, like a diagnosis.

I tilted my head.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing yet."

"That's an awful answer."

"It's the true one."

Our faces were closer than I had realised.

I could see the pulse in his throat.

I could see him make himself look at the house instead of me.

"Go to bed, Carys," he said. "Please."

"I haven't broken it yet," I said. "Rule ten."

"Yet."

"You said it first."

His eyes came back to mine, and something in them was so bare that I stopped breathing for a second.

Then he stepped away, and the distance was a door closing.

"Keep the coat," he said. "Return it when you stop wanting to know."

He walked toward the boathouse without looking back.

I stood on the soaked grass in a stranger's coat, with my heart going like I had run a mile.

Up in the nursery window, a small curtain moved.

I did not see the face.

At seven the next morning I was in the kitchen in my socks, looking for a frying pan.

Nobody had told me where anything was, because nobody in that house spoke to the staff, and the cook was apparently a rumour.

I found the flour.

I found eggs, but only six.

I was reading the side of a milk carton when something tugged the hem of my sweater.

Posy stood next to me, in yesterday's pajamas, holding a second crayon in her fist.

She looked at the coat folded over the back of a chair.

She looked at me.

She whispered, so softly I almost missed it.

"Uncle Valen is sad."

I knelt down so fast my knees cracked.

"Is he?"

She nodded once.

"What makes him sad, Posy?"

She opened her mouth to answer.

And from the doorway behind us, in a voice as smooth as ice on a lake, Odette said, "What did you just say to her?"

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