Page 19 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
He saw the flash of defiance in her eyes at his sarcastic tone, and something in him thrilled at it. This woman was not easily cowed. Her face, however, flushed for just a second and his heart raced. Had the same desire he felt kept her up too?
“As well as could be expected, My Lord,” she replied, her voice steady.
Edward moved to his desk, using it as a barrier between them. He needed distance if he was to maintain his composure. “I am glad you are here,” he said, watching her reaction closely. “I believe we need to establish some rules.”
Catherine's eyebrow lifted slightly, but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
“First,” Edward began, “you will have full use of the library and the house. I see no reason to restrict your movements, given that you've already taken liberties with my private possessions.”
He saw her flinch at the barb, but she held his gaze steadily.
“Second, you will not speak to Emily about what you have learned. Her innocence in this matter is to be preserved at all costs. Do you understand?”
Catherine nodded. “Of course, My Lord. I would never do anything to upset Emily.”
“Good,” Edward continued, his eyes narrowing. “Third, you will not engage in gossip with any townspeople. The affairs of Wessex Manor are not to be discussed outside these walls.”
“I assure you, I have no interest in gossip, My Lord,” Catherine replied, a hint of indignation in her voice.
Edward raised an eyebrow. “No? Your curiosity seemed quite... insatiable last night.”
A flush crept up Catherine's neck, but she held her ground. “That was different,” she said firmly. “I was seeking understanding, not fodder for idle chatter.”
“Regardless,” Edward said dismissively, “you will remain loyal to me and to this household. Any breach of these rules will result in your immediate dismissal. Is that clear?”
Catherine took a deep breath before responding. “My Lord, I hope you know that I would never do anything to hurt Emily, or to betray you, or to jeopardize my position here. I rely fully on you and your good opinion of me in order to survive.”
Edward frowned. “Explain.”
“I have no formal education,” Catherine said softly. “I am unwed and have no family. This position... it's all I have. I am at your mercy.”
For a moment, Edward was silent, studying her. “And yet,” he said, his voice terse, “you risked it by reading my journal.”
Catherine's gaze dropped to the floor. “A mistake I deeply regret, and one I will not repeat. But…” She looked up, meeting his eyes. “In order to truly serve you and Emily, in order to be the governess you need, I need to know what happened.”
Edward's jaw clenched. “You presume too much, Miss Winslow.”
“Perhaps,” Catherine said, taking a step forward. “But I care about Emily, about this household. How can I help protect what matters to you if I don't know anything about it?”
Edward stared at her, conflicting emotions warring within him. Part of him wanted to throw her out, to protect his secrets at all costs. But another part, a part he thought long dead, was impressed by her courage, her determination.
He moved to the window, staring out at the grounds of Wessex Manor. The morning mist still clung to the grass, shrouding the garden in an ethereal haze. Perhaps, he admittedto himself reluctantly, it would not be the worst thing in the world to share his burden with someone. For so long, he had carried it alone.
“Very well, Miss Winslow,” he said at last, his voice low and strained. “You wish to know what happened? I'll tell you.”
He turned back to face her, noting the mix of anticipation and apprehension in her eyes. “Five years ago, I returned home from London to find my parents murdered in my father's study.”
Catherine's eyes widened, but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
Edward's fists clenched at his sides as he recalled that horrific night. “The room was in disarray—papers scattered, furniture overturned. And there, on the floor…” He paused, taking a shuddering breath. “Their bodies. Broken and bloodied.”
He saw Catherine's hand move, as if to reach out to him, but she caught herself, clasping her hands tightly in front of her instead.
“My father's eyes were open, staring sightlessly at the ceiling,” Edward continued, his voice hollow. “My mother's hand was stretched out toward him, even in death. I... I tried. I tried to save them, to help them, but of course it was too late. They were gone.”
Catherine's face had paled, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh, My Lord,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry.”
Edward's expression hardened. “I don't want your pity, Miss Winslow. I want your discretion and your loyalty.”
