Page 28 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
He turned his head quickly to look out of the carriage. He had no idea where these thoughts suddenly came from, but he knew without doubt that he had to end them at once.
He could not afford to desire any woman—least of all the governess hired to teach his sister.
Luckily for him, Blackwell Manor was not too far from his own estate. He was relieved when they arrived, and quick to disembark the carriage. He held his hand out to help them off—his heart twinging with concern when he took note of the absolute elation on his sister’s face.
Catherine seemed to share his concern, her eyes finding his as she came to a standstill next to him.
“It will be alright,” she whispered—so softly that he was not entirely certain that he had truly heard it at all.
Beside them, Emily practically vibrated with excitement as her gaze darted from one spectacle to another.
“Oh, Edward, is it not wonderful?” she breathed as she squeezed his arm. “I can hardly believe that we are truly here.”
Despite his doubts, Edward managed a tight smile—for his sister’s benefit. “Indeed,” he murmured. Wonderful, however, was far from how he would describe it. As they made their way to the grand mansion doors, he could feel the weight of curious stares and hushed whispers following the trio as they walked.
Edward was all too aware of Catherine’s gloved hand resting lightly in the crook of his elbow and he looked down at her. “Shall we?”
She nodded, her face pale. “Yes, My Lord,” she whispered. “I… I suppose we should.”
Edward flashed her a stiff smile before leading the two women into the ballroom. The buzz of conversation dimmed momentarily as curious heads turned to observe the three newcomers. Edward felt a muscle jump in his jaw at the scrutiny. Still, he managed to force himself to maintain a neutral expression.
His shoulders stiffened when he recognized the couple hurrying toward them and he leaned a bit closer to Catherine.
“Those are our hosts,” he managed to whisper before they stood in front of them.
“Lord Blackwell. Lady Blackwell,” he said, nodding politely. “Please accept my gratitude for the invitation. My sister Emily.” He gestured to Emily, who bowed her head, before he raised his hand in Catherine’s direction. “And may I present my cousin, Lady Catherine Montague? She is visiting from the north.”
He could see Catherine’s hands trembling as she gathered her skirt to curtsy—though she played the part of lady very well.
Edward’s attention drifted toward the crowd, his heart beating heavily in his chest. Was the unseen threat here, in this room with them right now?
He barely registered the conversation taking place next to him, responding only with noncommittal murmurs when his name was mentioned.
Luckily the hosts did not remain with them too long, soon making their way toward some other guests. Edward wasted no time before leading his sister and Catherine to a corner of the ballroom—though of course, another couple stopped them on their way.
“Lord Wessex,” the man spoke, a jovial smile about his lips. “What a surprise! And with such lovely ladies by your side.”
Edward nodded stiffly. “Lord Boldwood,” he said simply, his lips tight. “My sister, Lady Emily and my cousin—Lady Catherine.”
He managed to dodge the man’s small talk too and he led the women to a more secluded part of the ballroom. Throughout, he was painfully aware of Catherine beside him; the way her softskin brushed against him, and the way the blue dress clung to her curves in all the right places.
Emily, for her part, seemed to be in her element. Her eyes darted from one group of people to the next, liveliness radiating from her.
“Excuse me, my lady,” a smooth voice spoke, and Edward narrowed his eyes at the man, whose attention was seemingly captivated by Emily. “But may I have this dance?”
Emily’s gaze fell upon her brother at once, and only when he nodded did she allow the man to lead her onto the dance floor. His heart tightened with concern as he watched his sister gracefully move across the dancefloor.
“She will be alright,” Catherine spoke beside him, her voice low. “Do not look so utterly concerned.”
Edward simply nodded, his hand searching for a glass of wine. He brought it to his lips quickly, his eyes following his sister’s trek across the dancefloor.
It was near the end of the dance when he suddenly realized that Catherine was no longer at his side. Worry flared in his chest as he scanned the room, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he finally spotted her.
She was engaged in an animated conversation with two young women. Without a single thought as to how it may look, Edward bolted forward—a dark frown between his brows. As he drew closer, he could hear the women’s excited voices drift toward them.
“Oh, Miss Winslow, we have missed you so terribly,” one was saying, her eyes shining with delight.
“Hush, Charlotte,” the other one admonished. “You must call her Lady Catherine here, remember?”
