Page 20 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
He moved back to his desk, pulling out the leather-bound journal that had started this whole mess. “The killer was never caught. The constable claimed it was a robbery gone wrong, but I never believed that. There was more to it, I was certain.”
He flipped through the pages, filled with his desperate scrawl. “Ever since that night, I've been consumed with trying to solve their murder. I've filled journals like this with every detail I can remember, every lead I've pursued. But the truth still eludes me.”
Catherine took a hesitant step forward. “And that's why you live as you do? Isolated and guarded?”
Edward nodded grimly. “Until I solve this murder, I fear for my life and for Emily's. The killer is still out there, Miss Winslow. He could be anyone—a neighbor, a friend, even a servant. I cannot let anyone gain access to us.”
He looked up and understanding dawned in Catherine’s eyes, her lips falling slightly open. “That's why you reactedso strongly to me reading your journal,” she said softly. “You thought I might be…”
“A threat,” Edward finished for her. “Yes. I couldn't be sure. I still can't be entirely sure.”
Catherine straightened her spine, meeting his gaze squarely. “I understand your caution, My Lord. But I assure you, I am not your enemy. I want to help, if you'll let me.”
Edward studied her for a long moment, his gaze intense. “And how do you propose to do that, Miss Winslow?”
“I don't know yet,” Catherine admitted. “But I'm observant, I'm discreet, and I care deeply for Emily and for... for this household. Perhaps a fresh perspective might see something you've overlooked?”
Edward's lips twitched in what might have been a smile, had it not been tinged with bitterness. “You are either very brave or very foolish, Miss Winslow.”
“Perhaps a bit of both,” Catherine replied, offering a small smile of her own.
Edward's expression sobered. “You must understand, if you involve yourself in this, you could be putting yourself in danger. The killer, if he knew someone was investigating…”
“I understand the risks,” Catherine said firmly. “But I cannot in good conscience stand by and do nothing, not now that I know the truth.”
Edward moved closer to her, his eyes searching hers. “Why?” he asked softly. “Why would you risk your safety for us?”
Catherine's heart raced at his proximity. “Because it's the right thing to do,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because Lady Emily deserves to live without fear. And because you deserve justice and peace, My Lord.”
There was something in her eyes that sent a strange flash of warmth through his heart, but then he shook his head firmly.
“Your offer is... appreciated, Miss Winslow,” he said, stepping back. “But this is my burden to bear. I won't risk your safety or Emily's by involving you further.”
Catherine opened her mouth to protest, but Edward held up a hand to silence her. “This is not open for discussion. You know the truth now, and you will keep it to yourself. That is all I require of you.”
He moved back to his desk, his posture making it clear that the conversation was over. “You're dismissed, Miss Winslow. Remember the rules we've discussed.”
Catherine hesitated for a moment, clearly wanting to say more. But finally, she nodded. “As you wish, My Lord. Thank you for trusting me with the truth.”
“Miss Winslow,” Edward called out as she turned to leave and she paused at the door, looking back at him.
“Remember,” he said softly, dangerously. “I am watching you. Always.”
Catherine nodded once more before slipping out of the study, and closing the door behind her.
Edward sank into his chair, suddenly exhausted. He hadn't intended to reveal so much, but something about Catherine Winslow had compelled him to speak. She intrigued him—and unnerved him. And he was not quite sure that he liked it one bit.
Chapter 10
“A letter for you, Miss Winslow.”
Catherine looked up at Mr. Harper, then forced herself to smile. The last few days had been positively dreary—with Lord Wessex making sure to avoid her, and Mr. Harper seeming rather suspicious of her at every turn.
A letter, whoever it was from, would be a welcome reprieve and she took it, smiling when she recognized Charlotte Ashdown’s handwriting. The Ashdown family felt as though they belonged to another version of her, she realized almost sadly. A version that was not consumed by secrets… and longing.
She sat down at her small writing desk, tearing the letter open. Her former charge's excitement practically leapt off the page as she described the upcoming Midsummer Ball.
“Dearest Miss Winslow,”Charlotte wrote, her usually neat script growing messier with enthusiasm,“I do hope you are enjoying working for the earl and that he is as handsome as everyone says. But I hope you do not love them more than you love us. That would be heartbreaking. Still, I wish you happiness.”
