Page 17 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
The words stung, and Catherine felt tears pricking at her eyes. She blinked them back furiously, refusing to show weakness. “Then why are you here, Lord Wessex? If I'm nothing to you, why does it matter what I read or didn't read?”
Edward's jaw clenched. “Because this is my home,” he growled. “My family. My past. And I won't have some... some upstart governess prying into matters that don't concern her.”
“Upstart?” Catherine repeated, incredulous. “Is that truly how you see me?”
“How else should I see you?” Edward countered. “You're an employee, Miss Winslow. One who has grossly overstepped her bounds.”
Catherine's anger flared anew. “And you haven't, My Lord? Bursting into my room in the middle of the night, manhandling me, hurling accusations?”
Edward's eyes flashed dangerously. “I am the master of this house. I can go where I please. And do… what I please.”
“Of course,” Catherine said bitterly. “How foolish of me to forget my place.”
They glared at each other, the air between them crackling with tension. Catherine was acutely aware of Edward's body, so close to hers. Despite her anger, she couldn't help but notice the way his shirt strained across his broad shoulders, the strong line of his jaw, the fullness of his lips...
She shook her head, trying to clear it of such dangerous thoughts. “My Lord,” she said, her voice tight. “Please… if you would leave…”
Edward didn't move. If anything, he seemed to lean in closer. “Not until I'm satisfied that you're telling me the truth.”
“And how do you propose to determine that?” Catherine challenged. “Will you stand here all night, interrogating me?”
A muscle ticked in Edward's jaw. “If that's what it takes.”
Catherine let out a shuddering breath. “My Lord, please…” she begged. “I… I have told you everything, I do not know what it is that you want from me…”
Edward's gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. “I want…” he began, then stopped, shaking his head. “I want to understand why you did it. Why you betrayed my trust.”
The vulnerability in his voice caught Catherine off guard. For a moment, she saw past the anger to the hurt beneath. It made her heart ache.
“I didn't mean to betray you,” she said softly. “I was... curious, yes. But more than that, I wanted to understand.”
Edward's brow furrowed. “Understand what?”
Catherine hesitated, then decided honesty was her best course. “You, My Lord. This house. The sadness that seems topermeate every corner. I thought... I thought if I knew more, I might be able to help somehow.”
Edward stared at her, his expression unreadable. “Help?” he repeated. “You think you can help? You think you can waltz in here and fix everything with your... your kindness and your pretty words?”
Catherine flinched at the bitterness in his tone. “That's not what I meant…”
“No?” Edward interrupted. “Then what did you mean, Miss Winslow? Please, enlighten me.”
Catherine took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. “I meant that I care, My Lord. About Emily. About... about you. Is that so hard to believe?”
For a moment, something softened in Edward's eyes. But then the wall slammed back down, his expression hardening once more. “Care?” he scoffed. “You don't even know me, Miss Winslow.”
“I know enough,” Catherine insisted. “I know you're a good brother, that you care deeply for Emily. I know you're intelligent and well-read. I know you carry a burden that weighs heavily on you. And I know... I know that despite your best efforts to hide it, there's kindness in you.”
Edward's breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly. For a heartbeat, Catherine thought she might have gotten through to him. But then his expression closed off once more.
“You know nothing,” he said coldly. “You see what you want to see, Miss Winslow. Nothing more.”
Catherine's frustration boiled over. “And you?” she challenged. “What do you see when you look at me, My Lord? Just a servant? Just someone to order about and accuse?”
Edward's eyes flashed. “I see a woman who's far too curious for her own good,” he growled. “A woman who doesn't know her place.”
“My place?” Catherine repeated, incredulous. “And where exactly is that, Lord Wessex? Beneath you?”
The moment the words left her mouth, she realized how they could be interpreted. A blush crept up her neck as Edward's eyes darkened, his gaze sweeping over her in a way that made her skin tingle and sent images to her mind, images that sent her heart racing.
