Page 16 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
She jumped when a thunderous knock echoed through the library, causing Edward to fade away. The knocking continued and with a jolt she sat up in bed, her blankets clutched to her chest. She shifted uncomfortably, her face flushing as she remembered the dream, but the repeated sound of the knocking allowed it to dissipate.
Someone was at her door.
“Who… who is there?” she called out, her voice trembling. There was no response, only the sound of a key turning in the lock. Catherine's blood ran cold. She leapt from the bed, her nightgown swirling around her ankles as she backed away from the door.
The heavy oak door swung open with a creak, revealing Edward's tall figure silhouetted in the doorway. His face was shrouded in shadow, but Catherine could feel the intensity of his gaze upon her. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with an ominous click.
At once, the intimate dream returned, and her face flushed. “My Lord,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “What on earth are you…”
“Quiet,” he barked before striding toward her. His eyes flickered dangerously in the dim candlelight. “I need to know, Miss Winslow. You need to tell me. How much did you read? What do you know?”
Catherine retreated hastily until she found her back hitting the wall and she pressed herself against it, her heart thundering in her chest. Edward loomed over her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. His scent—pine and something distinctly masculine—enveloped her, making her head spin.
“I…” she began, licking her suddenly dry lips. Edward’s gaze dropped to her mouth and his eyes darkened slightly. “I read about… there were just notes,” she whispered. “Notes about official things and then a day that seemed… something seemed to happen…”
She broke off, her gaze suddenly fixed on his lips too. A muscle ticked in Edward's jaw. “What?” he pressed, his voice low and dangerous.
Catherine took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze steadily. “I know nothing more, My Lord. What I read... it was none of my business. I should never have opened that journal, and I deeply regret my actions.”
Edward's eyes narrowed, searching her face for any sign of deception. “You expect me to believe that? That you have the journal of my youth before you and you were satisfied with the mundane?”
“It's the truth, My Lord,” Catherine insisted, her chin lifting slightly in defiance. “I have no right to pry into your personal affairs, regardless of my... curiosity. And I am sorry…”
Edward slammed his palm against the wall beside her head, making her flinch. “Curiosity?” he snarled. “Is that what you call it? Invading my privacy, violating my trust?”
Catherine's heart raced. He had stepped even closer to her, and she could feel her body reacting to his proximity. "I made a mistake, Lord Wessex. One I deeply regret. But I assure you, I read nothing beyond what I've told you.”
“And why should I believe you?” Edward demanded, leaning in closer. His breath ghosted over her cheek, sending shivers down her spine and she felt a warmth forming in the apex of her thighs, her womanhood throbbing with sudden, forbidden desire. His voice was gruff, low. “How do I know you're not lying to me right now?”
“Because I have no reason to lie,” Catherine retorted, her own anger flaring. Anger, she told herself silently, was far safer than whatever other confusing feelings he elicited in her. “What good would it do me? I've already admitted to my transgression. If I had read more, why wouldn't I simply tell you?”
Edward's eyes flashed. “Perhaps you're hoping to use the information against me. To blackmail me, or to sell my secrets to the highest bidder.”
Catherine gasped, indignation burning in her chest. “My Lord, no! I would never…”
“Wouldn't you?” Edward interrupted, his voice cold. “Everyone has a price, Miss Winslow. What's yours?”
"Not everyone is as cynical as you, My Lord," Catherine shot back, impulsively pressing her hands against his chest. His heart was racing, and his skin was warm beneath her hands, and she felt her knees weaken. “I believe in honor, My Lord… and integrity,” she promised weakly, but abitter laugh escaped Edward's lips.
“Honor? Integrity? Rich words from a woman who reads private journals.”
Catherine flinched as though he'd struck her. “That was a mistake,” she said, her voice low. “One I will regret for the rest of my life. But it doesn't define who I am.”
“Doesn't it?” Edward challenged. He placed his other hand on the wall, effectively caging her in. “Tell me, Miss Winslow, who are you really? Because if we are truthful, I’d have to admit that I don't know you at all.”
Catherine's breath caught in her throat. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, feel the ghost of his breath on her own lips and his heart racing beneath her palms. She let out a soft gasp when she felt the same hardness she’d felt earlier in the library press against her thigh and a blush rose to her cheeks.
Could it be that he was not unaffected by her either?
“I am exactly who I have always been,” she muttered, attempting to force her voice to remain steady. “A governess… who cares deeply for her charge and wishes to do her job well.”
Edward’s eyes searched hers, his gaze intense. “And is that all you wish to be? Just… a governess?”
His hands moved slightly, brushing against her shoulders and she dropped her hands to her sides, pressing hard against the wall in an attempt to keep her knees from buckling. Catherineswallowed hard, fighting against losing herself in his eyes. “What else could I be, My Lord?”
For a moment, something flashed in Edward's eyes—a hunger that made Catherine's breath hitch. But then it was gone, replaced by cold fury once more.
“Nothing,” he said, his voice harsh. “You could be nothing more. You're right about that, at least.”
