Page 15 of The Earl’s Forbidden Governess (Scandalous Regency Affairs)

Chapter 15

Edward paced the length of his study, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The blasted ball—and that kiss— had stirred up feelings he'd long thought buried, and at the center of this maelstrom was Catherine Winslow.

He paused at his desk, his gaze falling on the leather-bound journal he hadn't touched in years. With a trembling hand, he reached for it, running his fingers over the worn cover. How long had it been since he'd last put pen to paper, pouring out his thoughts and fears?

As he opened the journal, a memory flashed unbidden in his mind—Catherine, her eyes wide with shock and guilt as he caught her reading these very pages. Catherine, dressed in her nightdress, weak in his arms as he kissed her.

Edward closed his eyes, remembering the softness of her lips, the small gasp of surprise she'd made. It had been a moment of madness, born of anger and frustration, but it had awakened something in him he thought long dead.

And now, after tonight...

His mind drifted to their encounter by the fountain, the way Catherine had melted into his arms, returning his kiss with a passion that matched his own. He could still feel the curve of her waist under his hands, still taste the sweetness of her mouth.

A groan escaped him, and he slammed the journal shut. What was he doing? He was the Earl of Wessex, for God's sake. He had responsibilities, duties. He couldn't afford to be distracted by a pair of green eyes and a quick wit.

And yet...

Edward threw the journal across the room in a sudden fit of anger. It hit the wall with a dull thud and fell to the floor, pages splayed open like broken wings.

He sank into his chair, burying his face in his hands. How had he allowed this to happen? How had this slip of a girl managed to breach the walls he had so carefully constructed around his heart?

For years, he had lived in a state of suspended animation, going through the motions of life without truly living. And now, Catherine Winslow had awakened him, bringing color and warmth back into his world.

He was not quite sure how he was meant to feel about it.

Before he could stop himself, Edward found himself on his feet, moving toward the door. He knew where his feet were taking him, knew he should turn back, but he couldn't seem to stop.

He paused outside Catherine's door, his hand hovering over the knob. This was madness. He should return to his room, forget this foolishness. But instead, he found himself turning the handle, easing the door open as quietly as possible.

The room was bathed in soft moonlight, casting a silvery glow over Catherine's sleeping form. Edward's breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her.

She lay on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, dark hair spilling across the pillow. Her face, usually so animated in conversation, was peaceful in repose. Long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted.

Edward moved closer, drawn by an irresistible force. She truly was beautiful, he realized. Not in the conventional, society-approved way of someone like the fair ladies of the ton, but in a way that was different. Special.

What would it be like, he wondered, to truly be with her? To allow himself to desire her without holding back, to love her openly and without fear? To wake up each morning to those green eyes and that quick smile?

The thought both thrilled and terrified him. Love had brought him nothing but pain in the past. His parents' love for each other, cut short so brutally. His own budding feelings for Isabella, shattered by tragedy and suspicion.

Could he really open himself up to that kind of vulnerability again?

As if sensing his presence, Catherine stirred in her sleep, murmuring something unintelligible. Edward froze, suddenly aware of how inappropriate his presence in her room was.

What was he doing? This was madness, pure and simple.

He backed away, his heart pounding. He had to leave, now, before he did something truly foolish.

Edward slipped out of the room, closing the door as quietly as he'd opened it. He leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

This couldn't continue. He had to put a stop to those feelings before they spiraled out of control. For Catherine's sake as much as his own.

Lost in his thoughts, Edward made his way downstairs. He needed air. He needed to clear his head.

As he passed the drawing room, a movement caught his eye. He paused, peering into the dimly lit room.

Emily sat on the window sill, her knees drawn up to her chest, gazing out at the star-filled sky. She looked so young and vulnerable that Edward felt a pang in his heart.

“Emily?” he said softly, not wanting to startle her. “What are you doing up so late?”

She turned, a small smile lighting up her face. “Edward! I could not sleep. I keep thinking about the ball.”

Edward moved into the room, settling himself on the window seat beside her. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Emily nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes! It was wonderful. The music, the dancing… oh, everything. I have never experienced anything like it.”

Edward felt a twinge of guilt rush through him. He had kept Emily so isolated, so sheltered. Perhaps he had been wrong to do so.

“I am glad,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You deserved a night of happiness.”

Emily’s smile faded slightly. “Edward,” she said hesitantly, her eyes wide. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

She bit her lip, seeming to gather her courage. “Why... why have we never done anything like that before? Why do we always stay here, alone?”

Edward sighed. How could he explain the fear that had driven him for so long? The paranoia that had kept them isolated and alone?

“It is complicated, Emily,” he said finally. “After... after what happened to Mother and Father, I thought it was safer this way.”

Emily nodded slowly. “I suppose I understand that. But... it doesn't have to be that way anymore, does it? We can go out sometimes, can't we? Like normal people?”

Edward felt his heart constrict at the hope in her voice. “We shall see,” he said, not wanting to make promises he was not sure he could keep. “But tell me, what else did you enjoy about the evening?”

Emily’s face lit up again. “Oh, everything! But you know what I loved most? Watching Miss Winslow. She looked so beautiful in Mother’s gown, didn’t she? And the way she danced... she moved like she was born to it.”

Edward felt his cheeks warm at the mention of Catherine. “Yes,” he said, striving to keep his voice neutral. “Miss Winslow acquitted herself admirably.”

“She is wonderful, isn’t she?” Emily continued, oblivious to her brother's discomfort. “I am so grateful that you gave in and found me a governess. And that it was her. Thank you, Edward.”

“I am glad you are happy with her,” Edward said softly.

Emily turned to him, her eyes serious. “I am. More than that, I... I feel like she understands me. Like I can talk to her about anything.”

Edward felt a lump form in his throat. How long had it been since he had really talked with Emily? Since he had taken the time to understand the young woman she was becoming?

“You have grown up so much,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Sometimes I forget you are not the little girl who used to beg me for piggyback rides.”

Emily laughed, the sound bright in the quiet room. “I am not sure you could give me a piggyback ride anymore. I would probably break your back, old man.”

Edward gasped in mock outrage. “Old man? I will have you know I am in the prime of my life, young lady.”

They both dissolved into laughter, and for a moment, Edward felt lighter than he had in years. This was how it should be, he thought. Laughter and light, not darkness and fear.

As their mirth subsided, Emily leaned her head against his shoulder. “I love you, Edward,” she said softly. “I know things have not been easy, but... I am glad I have you.”

Edward wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “I love you too, little one,” he murmured. “More than you could ever know.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the stars. Edward found his thoughts drifting back to Catherine, to the way she had brought light back into their lives.

Perhaps, he thought, it was time to stop living in fear. Time to embrace the possibility of happiness, no matter how frightening it might be.

“Come on,” he said, gently rousing Emily from where she had begun to doze against his shoulder. “Let us get you to bed. Tomorrow is a new day.”

As he bid Emily goodnight, Edward felt a sense of peace settle over him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together—he, Emily, and perhaps, if he was very lucky, Catherine.

With a lighter heart, Edward made his way back to his own room. As he passed Catherine's door, he paused, resting his hand against the wood for a moment.

“Thank you,” he whispered, too softly for anyone but himself to hear. Then he continued on, still not quite ready to give way to sleep.