Page 62 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
Samuel stood, head bowed, awaiting his own judgment. “My Lord, I... I’m ready to face the consequences of my actions.”
Edward regarded him for a long moment, his face unreadable. “You let the killers into my home, Samuel. You’ve lied to me for years. By all rights, I should see you hang alongside Isabella.”
Samuel nodded, accepting his fate with quiet resignation.
“But,” Edward continued, his voice softening slightly, “you also helped bring my parents’ killers to justice. You saved Emily’s life. For that... for that, I will not press charges against you.”
Samuel looked up, shock written across his battered face. “My Lord, I... thank you. I don’t deserve your mercy.”
“No, you do not,” Edward agreed, his tone hardening once more. “But I’m giving it to you anyway. You’re dismissed from service, effective immediately. I suggest you leave the country, Mr. Harper. Start a new life, if you can. And pray that our paths never cross again.”
As Mr. Harper left, shoulders slumped, Edward turned to Catherine. She stepped into his embrace, feeling the tension drain from his body. His arms encircled her, holding her close as if she were an anchor in a storm.
“It’s over,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest. “They can rest in peace now. Your parents, I mean.”
Edward’s arms tightened around her, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Thanks to you, dear Catherine. I don’t know what I would have done without you. You’ve brought light back into my life, Catherine. Hope.”
Catherine looked up at him, seeing the love and gratitude shining in his eyes. The pain was still there, the grief, but now there was something else too—a spark of joy, of possibility. “You’ll never have to find out,” she promised, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You… you can be happy now.”
As they stood there, holding each other in the quiet aftermath of justice served, Catherine felt a sense of hope blossoming in her heart. The shadows of the past had been banished, and the future—their future—stretched out before them, bright with promise.
Edward leaned down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I think it is time,” he said slowly, “That Wessex Manor became the place it was meant to be, the place my parents had made it all those years ago,” he announced. “I will no longer hide from society. I am the Earl of Wessex—and it is time I lived up to that.”
He smiled down at Catherine proudly—and if her own smile was not quite as confident as his, he did not notice it. He was far too consumed by the joy bubbling in his chest.
Chapter 26
The weeks following Isabella’s arrest saw Wessex Manor humming with a new energy. Catherine and Edward devoted themselves to the task of rebuilding the household staff, determined to breathe life back into the once-gloomy halls.
“We’ll need to start with the key positions,” Edward mused one morning over breakfast. “Housekeeper, cook, butler... those are essential.”
Catherine nodded, already jotting down notes. “I’ve drafted advertisements for the local paper. Shall I send them out today?”
She did not allow herself to ponder too much about the fact that he had given her the job the lady of the house would normally do. Emily was still too young and there was no other woman in his life—she did not have any illusions about her position, though she was still adamant that she would show him exactly how capable she was. Even if it were only to nurse her wounded pride.
Edward smiled, warmth spreading through his chest at her initiative. “Please do. And perhaps we could reach out tosome of the other estates in the area? They might know of good candidates.”
As responses to their advertisements began to trickle in, Catherine and Edward found themselves spending long hours in his study, poring over applications and references.
“What about this one for the cook position?” Catherine asked, passing a letter across the desk. “Mrs. Beatrice Thorne. She’s worked in several large households and has excellent references.”
Edward scanned the letter, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Impressive experience,” he agreed. “Let’s add her to the list for interviews.”
The interview process itself proved to be both exhausting and enlightening. They set up in the manor’s grand drawing room, a stark reminder of the estate’s former glory and current potential.
Mrs. Thorne arrived promptly at ten o’clock, a stout woman with kind eyes and capable hands. “Good morning, Lord Wessex, Miss Winslow,” she greeted them with a curtsy.
“Mrs. Thorne,” Edward nodded. “Thank you for coming. Could you tell us a bit about your experience?”
As Mrs. Thorne detailed her culinary history, Catherine found herself impressed by the woman’s passion and creativity. “And how would you handle the challenges of restocking a kitchen that’s been... less active in recent years?” she inquired.
Mrs. Thorne’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’d start with a thorough inventory, of course. Then I’d reach out to local suppliers—there’s nothing like fresh, seasonal ingredients. I’d also work closely with the housekeeper to ensure smooth meal planning and service.”
By the end of the interview, both Catherine and Edward were smiling. “Thank you, Mrs. Thorne,” Edward said warmly. “We’ll be in touch soon.”
As the door closed behind her, Catherine turned to Edward. “I liked her,” she said. “She seems warm… and kind. She’d… be a good influence on Emily too.”
She left it at that—deciding not to tell him quite yet that she would not return once the household was filled properly.
