“Good morning, Miss Winslow,” she chirped, her sunny disposition a far cry from Catherine’s own demeanor.
“Good morning, My Lady,” she said softly. “I hope you are ready for today’s lesson.”
Emily grinned brightly. “I certainly am. These lessons are the highlight of my every day,” she said with a laugh before settling into her seat. Without wanting to, Catherine’s gaze drifted toward the window nervously. In truth, she half-expected to see Edward storming across the grounds; coming to dismiss her on the spot. To her relief, the gardens remained empty, and she shook her head, trying to return her attention to Emily once more.
“Miss Winslow?” Emily’s voice broke through her reverie. “I am sorry, but… are you alright? You seem… distracted.”
Catherine’s face flushed and she nodded slowly. “I am fine, Lady Emily,” she said softly. “I just… I suppose I am just tired. Now… shall we begin with your French translation?”
“Oui,” Emily announced cheekily, and Catherine laughed softly. Despite her laughter, however, her mind wandered when Emily bent over her work once more.
What had she been thinking, reading that journal? The secrets it contained, the pain Edward must have endured… She bit her lips, fighting back tears of regret. She liked her new position, and she had risked it all for no more than morbid curiosity.
“Miss Winslow?” Emily’s voice startled her, and she jumped. “I’ve finished the translation.”
Catherine blinked in surprise. How long had she been staring blankly at the wall?
“Oh, yes,” she muttered, forcing herself to smile. “Yes, of course. Let’s take a look, shall we?”
She moved toward the girl quickly, leaning over the work. To her surprise, the French words swam before her eyes incomprehensibly and a thin frown appeared between her brows. A floorboard creaked and her shoulders tense as she turned her gaze to the door.
Was Edward going to burst through it and chase her away?
When the door remained closed, she returned her attention to Emily. “It looks… good, Emily,” she muttered, though she was not quite certain what it was she had read. “Why don’t we move on to history?”
At Emily’s nod, she turned to the small stack of books she kept in the schoolroom. She lifted the book on top. Shakespeare’s sonnets. Her heart twinged when she looked at the cursive writing on the front page and she sighed deeply when she remembered her and Edward’s conversation about Shakespeare, and literature. Had she ruined it all?
“Miss Winslow,” Emily said again, her voice soft. “Are you sure you are alright? You look quite pale.”
Catherine put the sonnets back and picked the history book up, forcing herself to smile as she looked at Emily.
“I am quite alright,” she said, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself. “I was just… thinking about the lesson. Now… shall we discuss the Tudor dynasty?”
To her relief, Emily nodded, allowing her to launch into a lecture about Henry VIII and his many wives. Soon, Catherine found herself relaxing a little. This, at least, was familiar territory. She could lose herself in the facts and figures of history, pushing aside all emotions for a moment. Especially her guilt, and anxiety.
Still, despite the interesting lesson and Emily’s interested questions, Catherine once again found her mind drifting. What had happened to Emily and Edward’s parents?
She shook her head again, banishing the thoughts. It was none of her business, she reminded herself firmly. Her job was to teach Emily… nothing more.
Only when she noticed Emily stifling a yawn, did she realize that the lesson had gone on far too long. Catherine felt her cheeks flush and she shook her head. “I am sorry, Lady Emily,” she said softly. “It seems that I launched into such a long tirade that I forgot you were due a break minutes ago.”
Emily smiled. “I can go on,” she offered, and Catherine shook her head gently. “No,” she explained, her voice soft. “I too need a bit of a break, if that is alright?”
Emily nodded quickly. “I could play some piano?”
Catherine managed a true smile at this, and she nodded. “That sounds lovely,” she agreed, and Emily gracefully moved to the piano. As the first notes of a Chopin nocturne filled the air, Catherine moved to the window and pressed her forehead against the cool glass.
What was wrong with her?
Never before had she been so unfocused during a lesson. Then again, never before had she invaded her employer’s privacy so egregiously. The guilt was eating her alive, gnawing at her.
As the sweet notes of the piano washed over her, Catherine found her thoughts drifting to Edward once again. This time, she did not think about the fury in his eyes, instead, she thought about the vulnerability she’d seen before that.
She closed her eyes as a flash of desire coursed through her. Oh, how she longed to kiss away the deep frown lines between his brows and… Catherine pressed a shocked hand to her mouth.
Where did that thought come from?
The final notes of the nocturne faded away and Catherine turned back to her pupil. The young girl looked at her expectantly and she smiled. “That was lovely, Lady Emily,” she said softly. “Now… are you ready for more history?”
