“It serves several purposes,” he said at last, avoiding her searching gaze. “Of course, most importantly, it provides additional protection for Emily. If, as her cousin, you remain by her side, it would be easier for you to be able to keep a closer eye on her. Especially seeing as I will have to navigate some… social obligations.”
He hesitated, and his gaze dropped briefly to Catherine’s lips before he caught himself. “Secondly, it provides me with… an excuse.”
“An excuse?” Catherine echoed, her brow furrowed in confusion. Edward nodded and a wry smile twisted his lips.
“You will understand that I am not… eager… to socialize overmuch with a community that I cannot trust. If I am occupied with ensuring the comfort of my… cousin… I will have a ready-made reason to avoid prolonged interactions with them.”
He could see the understanding dawning in Catherine’s eyes, followed, to his regret, by a flash of sympathy that made his chest tighten uncomfortably. He did not want pity. Not from her or anyone else.
“My Lord,” she said softly, her eyes flitting up to meet his, and she reached out, her hand briefly brushing his arm. The gentle contact sent a sudden jolt through him, and he had to resist the immediate urge to pull her closer. “I understand your caution, but surely isolating yourself will not do any good. Perhaps if you allowed…”
“No.” Edward cut her off, his tone far sharper than he had intended. Still, he could not bring himself to pull away from her touch. If anything, he found himself leaning into it—craving the brush of her skin against his through the material that separated them. “I cannot risk it,” he spoke through tight lips. “Not until I know the truth.”
Catherine’s gaze was an open book; one filled with conflict between her desire to help and hesitance at the impropriety of his plan. “This is madness, My Lord,” she whispered. “I cannot do it. I cannot agree to such deception. It… it goes against all that I believe in.”
Edward felt a flash of frustration course through him. Could she not see that it was necessary? That he… no, Emily. That Emily needed her? He swallowed hard at the first thoughtthat had trifled through his mind and shook his head, deciding, instead, to assert his authority.
“You seem to be under the mistaken impression that you have a choice in the matter, Miss Winslow,” he said coldly. He pushed himself away from the desk, placing his palms on either side of her chair, effectively trapping her with his body, as he had done in her bedchamber nights ago.
Catherine’s breath visibly hitched in her throat, but she lifted her chin defiantly. “I… I am not a slave, My Lord. I am a governess,” she let out, her voice hesitant. “Surely I do have a choice.”
The defiance, he had to admit, stirred something strange within him, though he was not quite certain whether it was desire or admiration.
“Do you?” he murmured, leaning even closer to her, his lips almost brushing her ear. “Need I remind you of our agreement? Of you… promising to follow my rules and keep my secrets? This is merely an extension thereof. Would you not agree?”
He felt her shiver, saw the way her hands came up to brush against the lapels of his coat. Whether she wanted to push him away or pull him closer was not quite certain, but he could not deny that the uncertainty thrilled him quite a bit.
“It… is not the same,” Catherine protested weakly. “This is asking me to actively deceive everyone, to make Emily part of it… I cannot…”
Before he could think better of it, Edward raised his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. The softness of her skin, the slight parting of her lips under his touch, the way her eyes widened… it sent a surge of desire through him that he struggled to force down.
“You can,” he said, managing to force some steel into his voice, “and you will. Because deep down, Miss Winslow, you want to protect Emily… and you will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. As will I. And because…”
Once again, his gaze dropped to her parted lips, and he resisted the urge to press his own lips against her. “Because a part of you is curious,” he continued. “You want to see what it would be like, do you not? To step into a world so different from your own… if only for one night.”
He could see the truth in her eyes, and he fought the victorious grin that threatened to appear on his face.
“I…” Catherine began, her voice hoarse. “My Lord, I…”
“You will do what I ask,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over her lips. “Thank you, miss Winslow. For your… sacrifice.”
It took all he had to not grab her into his arms and let out the passion that threatened to overtake him. Instead, he managed to move to the other side of the desk in an effort to put some distance between them.
The distance seemed to clear his head and when he looked at her once again, his face was as stoic as he could arrange it.
“I will see to it that you have a dress,” he said simply. “And you can cancel your lesson with Emily for tomorrow. I shall take the time to… teach you.”
He dismissed her with a mere nod, returning his attention to his work. Though it would be a grievous lie to deny that he was fully aware of the second her presence disappeared from the study.
Chapter 12
Of course, Edward spent the evening quite excited about the prospect of changing roles and teaching the all-knowing governess a thing or two. He found her in the schoolroom early the next morning—anxiety radiating from her.
“Well, My Lord,” she spoke as he entered, her lips trembling and her eyes wide. “I… I suppose I am ready.”
“Good,” Edward smiled, though it bothered him quite a bit that she seemed so nervous. “Though I suggest we move—and take this lesson to the library. You do enjoy it there, after all, do you not?”
He did not miss the quick flush of her cheeks, but he ignored it, instead, leading her to the library, where he paced in front of her as she sat perched on the chaise, her hands neatly folded on her lap.
