Page 37 of The Hidden Governess

Her head lifted and she looked into his eyes. There was no longer any hint of tears.

“I do not wish to lose my position, Lord Addenbrook.” Her voice was small but soft. “And yet I find that….”

She closed her eyes, and her lips moved but no words came out.

“I understand.”

Patrick was all too aware that whilst he did not wish to compromise nor ruin the lady, the urge to be close to her, to have her in his arms was too strong to be ignored. What he would do next, however, required a good deal more thought.

I could propose.

Patrick waited for the shock to run through him, for ice to cloud his lungs and to push that thought far from him which, in turn, would push Miss Trean away, but it did not come. Instead, a gentle warmth seemed to brush across his cheek and through his hair like a soft summer breeze, swelling his heart gently.

“I should–” Miss Trean stepped back, her hands falling away from his chest. “Forgive me, Lord Addenbrook.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Clearing his throat simply to give himself a little more time to regain his composure, Patrick tried to smile. “It is I who ought to beg for your forgiveness for ever suggesting such a thing as that. Lord Hogarth made some ridiculous assertions, and I ought not to have listened to him.”

Miss Trean gave him a small, slightly wobbly smile.

“It is forgotten. I am grateful for your trust in me. I pray that you will always remember that I have thought only of Henry’s safety through this matter. That my respect for you comes from the fact that I have witnessed your change towards Henry and in seeing your concern and regard for him – and for myself.”

A little confused as to why she was making such a statement, Patrick merely put one hand to his heart and inclined his head gently.

“But of course.”

Pressing her lips tight together, Miss Trean took a quick step towards him and put one hand out towards his chest.

“Lord Addenbrook, there is something that I –”

Just before her fingers grazed his shirt, a tap came at the door and, in an instant, Miss Trean stepped back.

“Come.”

Frustrated, Patrick could not keep the bark from his voice.

“My Lord, there is an urgent matter that requires your attention.” The butler’s voice was a little tight, telling Patrick silently that there was true urgency to this. “It concerns your brother.”

In an instant, all frustration fled.

“I beg your pardon?” He swung towards the butler, who nodded. “Speak! Tell me at once what has happened.”

The butler threw a glance towards Miss Trean but did not hesitate.

“A fellow arrived from the local inn. He has begged to see you, but I did not think it suitable….” Seeing Patrick’s frown, the butler paused and then dove directly into the heart of the matter. “There was a fellow sent from London with a message from your brother’s man of business, my Lord. This man has only recently been discovered, but ten miles from the estate.”

Patrick’s stomach twisted.

“Discovered?”

The butler nodded, twisting his hands together in front of him.

“The man was badly beaten and appeared to be close to death. However, he has spent the last two days recovering at the inn and today was well enough to tell the innkeeper what had taken place.”

Nodding slowly, Patrick began to understand the situation.

“And the message this man was meant to be delivering to me?”

“Quite gone,” the butler replied quickly. “Everything else that this man had – including a bag of coins – was left upon him. But this letter for you was the only thing taken.”

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