Page 56 of The Earl's Forbidden Governess
The guest rooms were as empty as the rest of the house. No sign of Catherine’s presence, no hint that she had ever been there. Edward felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him as he realized the futility of his search.
“I... I apologize,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I shouldn’t have doubted your word. I just... I had to be sure.”
Charlotte’s expression softened. “We understand, Lord Wessex. You’re worried about her. We all are.”
Sophia stepped forward, her young face earnest. “My Lord,” she said hesitantly, “forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but... you love her, don’t you? Miss Winslow, I mean.”
Edward felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. “I... that’s not... I’m engaged to Lady Isabella,” he stammered.
The sisters exchanged a knowing look. “With all due respect, My Lord,” Charlotte said gently, “that’s not what Sophia asked.”
Edward closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his conflicted emotions pressing down on him. “It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. “Catherine is gone, and I... I have responsibilities. Duties.”
“But what about your heart?” Sophia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Edward had no answer for that. He thanked the Ashdown sisters for their patience and understanding, then made his way back to his waiting carriage. As he settled into the plush seat, he felt more lost than ever.
The ride back to Wessex Manor seemed interminable. Edward’s mind replayed every moment with Catherine—their heated arguments, their shared laughter, the stolen glances and lingering touches. How had he not realized sooner what she meant to him?
As the carriage pulled up to the manor, Edward saw Isabella waiting on the front steps. Her golden hair gleamed in the afternoon sun, her dress a vision of silk and lace. She was everything a nobleman’s wife should be—beautiful, refined, well-connected.
And yet, as Edward looked at her, he felt nothing but a dull ache in his chest.
“Darling,” Isabella called, her voice carrying across the gravel drive. “Where have you been? We have so much to discuss about the wedding.”
Edward climbed out of the carriage slowly, feeling as though he were moving through molasses. “Isabella,” he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. “I... I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well. Perhaps we could postpone our discussion?”
Isabella’s perfect smile faltered slightly. “Of course, darling. Are you alright? Shall I call for the physician?”
Edward shook his head. “No, no. I just need some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
As he made his way to his study, Edward’s mind whirled with conflicting thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to call off the engagement, to go searching for Catherine again. But his mother’s voice echoed in his head, reminding him of duty and responsibility.
“A good match strengthens the family, Edward,” she had always said. “It’s not just about love, but about securing the future of Wessex.”
He sank into his chair, burying his face in his hands. Catherine was gone, possibly never to return. And even ifshe did, could he really throw away everything—his family’s expectations, his duty to the estate—for love?
A soft knock at the door roused him from his thoughts. “Come in,” he called, half-expecting Isabella to have followed him.
Instead, Emily peeked around the door, her young face etched with concern. “Edward? Are you really not feeling well?”
Edward sighed, gesturing for his sister to enter. “I’m fine, Em. Just... tired.”
Emily approached cautiously, studying his face. “You went looking for Miss Winslow again, didn’t you?”
He nodded, unable to hide the truth from his perceptive sister. “I did. But she wasn’t there. I don’t know where else to look.”
Emily’s face fell. “Oh, Edward. I’m so sorry. I miss her too, you know.”
“I know you do, Em.” Edward reached out and squeezed her hand. “But we... we have to move forward. The wedding plans—”
“Do you really want to marry Lady Isabella?” Emily interrupted, her voice small but determined.
Edward was taken aback by the directness of her question. “I... it’s what’s expected, Em. What Mother would have wanted. A good match for the family.”
Emily shook her head. “But is it what you want? Because I don’t think it is. I think you want Miss Winslow.”
“Emily,” Edward said, his voice strained. “It’s not that simple. Catherine is gone, and even if she weren’t... there are expectations, responsibilities.”
