Page 47 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
The first notes filled the air, and Edward felt his heart swell with pride. Catherine’s fingers danced over the keys, coaxing out a melody so beautiful and haunting that the entire room fell silent. As he watched her play, lost in the music, Edward felt something shift inside him. How deftly those fingers traveled across the notes, how he desired those hands to touch his skin just once more.
When the last note faded away, there was a moment of stunned silence before the room erupted in applause. Catherine rose, her cheeks flushed with exertion and embarrassment, and curtsied deeply.
Edward wanted nothing more than to go to her, to tell her how magnificent she had been, even in front of the crowd. It was only Isabella’s hand on his arm that prevented him from doing this.
“Well,” Isabella said, her voice syrupy sweet, “that was... quaint. How clever of you, Edward, to have your staff entertain us. It is so... economical.”
Edward felt a surge of anger at Isabella’s words. His eyes blazed and he turned to Isabella with a dark frown. Before he could speak, however, Catherine’s voice rang out clearly.
“Thank you for your kind words, Lady Isabella,” she said, her voice steady. “Music has always been a passion of mine. I am grateful for the opportunity to share it—and if it is economical for his lordship, I am glad. Please… do excuse me.”
With a single glance in his direction, Catherine slipped from the room before Edward could move a muscle to stop her.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Edward found himself going through the motions, making small talk andplaying the gracious host, but his mind was elsewhere. He could not shake the image of Catherine at the piano, her face transfigured by the music she created.
The thought of her followed him until the last guest departed, haunting him even as he walked Isabella to her own carriage. Once there, she turned to him—her eyes earnest.
“Edward,” Isabella sighed, and she lay a palm against his cheek. “I… I was hoping that we could continue our relationship in the manner your mother and father had wanted, that we could…”
She blinked a few times and tears sprang into her eyes.
“I fear that you are no longer interested in me… that you have forgotten me—and their wishes for us.”
“No,” Edward said almost automatically, his heart twinging with hurt as he tried to suppress the memory of Catherine.
“You are right, Isabella. We ought to continue where we left off, I suppose. So… will you marry me?”
Though the words left his lips, Edward’s heart screamed desperately at him to reconsider. He allowed his eyes to shut for a mere two seconds, granting himself a momentary reprieve of his reality.
‘Duty before all,’ his father had instilled in him ages ago. ‘The eyes of the ton are on us.’
It would have been easy—or at the very least possible—he supposed, to screamto hell with the ton, as his heart begged him to do. Had it only been himself to consider.
Emily’s innocent eyes and the corpses of his parents tortured him, however.
Family and duty first.
That was all he knew, all he was: all his life, he’d lived according to that code. Do the right thing, make your family proud, do your duty.
How he wished that even one day could be different—that he could choose what he longed for over what he had to do.
Isabella seemed unaware of his turmoil.
“Oh, Edward!” Despite her elation, he managed to subtly dodge her kiss—though he allowed her to wrap her arms around his neck. “Yes, a thousand times yes!”
“Right.” Isabella’s eyes sparkled with joy as she climbed into her carriage and waved at him. Edward sighed as he madehis way to the library listlessly, his heart skipping a beat when he saw that Catherine too had sought sanctuary in the very same place. He watched quietly as she replaced a book on one of the higher shelves. The stretch of her arm caused her dress to pull tight across her back, emphasizing the graceful curve of her spine.
Edward cleared his throat, causing Catherine to start. She turned, her eyes wide. “My Lord,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I did not hear you come in.”
“Catherine,” Edward began, then paused, unsure how to continue. The weight of all he wanted to say pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe.
“Yes?” Catherine prompted, a hint of hope in her voice that made Edward’s heart ache.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself. Finally, he sat down—his mind drifting back to the choice he had made as the party had come to an end. “I must tell you that… I... I have asked Lady Isabella to marry me. She has accepted.”
The color drained from Catherine’s face. For a moment, she swayed on her feet, and Edward instinctively reached out to steady her. The moment his hand touched her arm, she jerked away as if burned.
“I see,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “Congratulations, My Lord. If you will excuse me…”
