Page 22 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
Edward’s voice stopped her as she reached the door. “Miss Winslow…”
She looked back, her hand trembling on the doorknob. “Yes, My Lord?”
A hint of that earlier softness returned to Edward's expression. “Your dedication to Emily... it is appreciated. More than you know.”
Catherine felt a flush creep up her neck at the unexpected praise. “She deserves nothing less,” she said simply before slipping out of the study.
As she made her way back to her room, Catherine's mind whirled. She hadn't expected Edward to actually listen to her impassioned plea. And that moment between them... she shook her head, trying to dispel the memory of Edward's intense gaze, the heat of his body so close to hers.
It was madness to even consider such things. He was her employer, far above her station. And yet… he had kissed her before, and today he again had that look in his eyes that spoke of the same desire she felt.
She raised her hand to touch her chest where her heart was beating impossibly fast. Her nipples hardened when she remembered his touch upon her breast and her breath quickened. The feelings were foreign to her, and she could not deny that he had awakened something in her that she had not expected in the least.
Catherine sighed, pushing the confusing thoughts aside. She had done what she could for Emily. Now, she could only hope that Edward would see reason. She shook her head asshe made her way to the schoolroom, where Emily was already seated. They had barely started with a lesson when Mr. Harper appeared in the doorway.
“Begging your pardon, Lady Emily, Miss Winslow,” he said, his usual stern expression in place. “His lordship requests your presence in the dining room.”
Emily frowned at this and glanced at Catherine before returning her attention to Mr. Harper. “But why? We just started my lesson!”
Mr. Harper merely shrugged. “His lordship was quite insistent.”
Catherine’s heart raced as she stood, and she glanced at Emily before the pair followed Mr. Harper to the dining room. Edward stood at the head of the table, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in his posture that made Catherine's heart quicken even more.
“Emily, Miss Winslow,” Edward said as they entered. “Please, sit.”
Once they were seated, Edward cleared his throat. “It has been brought to my attention,” he began, his gaze flickering briefly to Catherine, “that perhaps I have been... overly cautious in my governance of this household.”
Emily's eyes widened, and Catherine held her breath, hardly daring to hope.
“After much consideration,” Edward continued, “I have decided that it is time for you to begin participating in society, Emily. To that end, I am granting you permission to attend the Midsummer Ball in a fortnight.”
For a moment, there was complete silence. Then Emily leapt from her chair with a squeal of delight, throwing her arms around her brother's neck.
“Oh, Edward!” she cried. “Do you truly mean it? I can go to the ball?”
Edward’s stern facade cracked, a hesitant smile spreading across his face as he returned his sister’s embrace. “I mean it,” he said almost gently. “You can go to the ball.”
As Emily bounced with excitement, peppering her brother with questions about gowns and dancing and who else might attend, Catherine watched the pair with a warmth blooming in her chest. This was the Edward she had glimpsed beneath the cold exterior. The loving brother who would do anything for his sister's happiness. Her heart skipped a beat when he caught her eye, and a smile flashed across his lips. God, those lips.
When Emily finally paused for breath, Edward turned to Catherine. “Miss Winslow, I trust I can rely on you to ensure Emily is properly prepared for the event?”
Catherine nodded, trying to contain her own smile. “Of course, My Lord. It would be my pleasure.”
Edward's gaze lingered on her for a moment and Catherine’s breath raced. There was something almost intimate in the way he looked at her. Then he cleared his throat and turned to Emily once more. “Now, I believe you and Miss Winslow have some planning to do. Why don't you retire to the parlor? I'm sure you have much to discuss.”
Emily needed no further encouragement. She practically dragged Catherine from the room, chattering excitedly about all the preparations they would need to make.
As Catherine allowed herself to be pulled along, she glanced back over her shoulder. Edward still stood in the dining room doorway, watching them go. When their eyes met, he gave her a small nod—of thanks, perhaps, or acknowledgment. Catherine felt a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with Emily’s enthusiasm.
Chapter 11
As he had somewhat feared, the days leading up to the Midsummer Ball passed in a blur, and as he paced the length of his study, his mind was racing. Though he did not regret his decision to allow Emily this taste of normalcy, the ball and their attendance loomed in front of him dangerously.
He paused by the window and allowed his eyes to travel over the gardens that had become overgrown and almost sloppy. Somewhere, perhaps even in their very county, his parents’ killer walked free. The thought made his jaw clench in unconcealable rage.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his brooding and he turned, frowning. “Enter.”
It was Samuel Harper who stepped into the room, his expression as impassive as always.
