Page 54 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
The old coachman twisted his hat in his hands. “It’s Mr. Harper, miss. I... I’ve long had my suspicions about him, but I never had proof. But last night, I… well, I was helping his lordship really—looking for you. I was there, at the manor and I overheard him talking to someone in the stables. A woman, by the sound of it. They were arguing about... about finishing what they started.”
Catherine felt the blood drain from her face. “Did you hear anything else? Any names?”
Mr. Hawkins shook his head. “No, miss. But I did see the woman leave. She was wearing a fine cloak, like a lady’s. And she dropped this.”
He held out a small, ornate locket. Catherine took it with trembling hands, her mind whirling. Could this be the mysterious woman Mr. Simmons had mentioned? The one Mr. Harper had been meeting in secret?
As she turned the locket over in her hands, Catherine felt a sense of both triumph and dread. She was close to the truth, she could feel it. But with each new piece of information, the danger seemed to grow.
“Thank you, Mr. Hawkins,” she said softly. “You’ve been incredibly brave in coming to me with this.”
The old man nodded. “I’ve served the Montagues for many years, miss. I couldn’t stand by and watch harm come to Lord Wessex or Lady Emily. But please, be careful. If Sam Harper suspects anyone knows…”
“I understand,” Catherine assured him. “I’ll be discreet.”
As Mr. Hawkins took his leave, Catherine turned to Charlotte and Sophia, her eyes shining with determination. “We’re close,” she said. “I can feel it. We just need to put all these pieces together.”
The sisters nodded, their faces mirroring Catherine’s resolve. “We’re with you, Miss Winslow,” Charlotte said firmly. “Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.”
As night fell over the Ashdown estate, Catherine sat by the window, the locket clutched in her hand. She thought of Edward; of the pain and worry she must be causing him. But she also thought of the danger he and Emily might still be in, unknowingly living under the same roof as a potential murderer.
“I’m doing this for you, Edward,” she whispered into the darkness. “For you and Emily. I only hope you can forgive me when it’s all over.”
Chapter 23
Edward paced the length of his study, his mind a whirlwind of worry and frustration. It had been days since Catherine’s disappearance, and he was no closer to finding her. Every lead, every possibility had turned up empty.
Where was she? Why had she left after the night they had shared? Surely, she did not believe him when he claimed that he felt nothing for her? Did she regret it? Questions and fear consumed him, and he sighed before running a hand through his already disheveled hair.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his brooding. “Enter,” he called, hoping against hope that it might be news of Catherine.
Instead, Isabella glided into the room, a stack of papers in her arms. “Darling,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. We really must discuss the wedding arrangements.”
Edward suppressed a sigh. “Isabella, now is hardly the time. Catherine is still missing, and I—”
“Edward,” Isabella interrupted, her tone sharpening slightly, “I understand you’re concerned for your employee, but life must go on. We can’t put everything on hold for a governess who chose to run away.”
The words stung. Despite all that he had told her, despite their difference and despite the heartbreaking realization that they could never be together… it hurt to hear Catherine thought of as an employee. “She’s more than just an employee, Isabella,” he said quietly. “She’s... she’s family.”
Isabella’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Family? Edward, darling, you barely know the girl. Now, about the guest list…”
But Edward was no longer listening. His mind had drifted to Catherine—her warm smile, her quick wit, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about books or history. How had she become so integral to his life in such a short time?
“Edward? Are you even listening to me?”
He blinked, focusing on Isabella’s irritated face. “I am sorry, Isabella. I’m afraid I’m not in the right frame of mind for wedding planning at the moment. Perhaps we could discuss this another time?”
Isabella’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded stiffly. “Of course. When you’ve... sorted out this governess situation.” She swept out of the room, leaving behind a faint scent of expensive perfume.
Edward sank into his chair, his head in his hands. How had everything become so complicated? He had thought marrying Isabella was the right thing to do — for his family name, for Emily, for the estate. But now...
A timid knock drew his attention. “Come in,” he called wearily.
Emily peeked around the door, her young face etched with concern. “Edward? Are you alright?”
He managed a weak smile for his sister’s benefit. “I’m fine, Em. Just... worried about Miss Winslow.”
Emily entered the study fully, perching on the edge of a chair. “I miss her too,” she said softly. “It’s not the same without her here.”
