Page 9 of The Earl’s Forbidden Governess (Scandalous Regency Affairs)

Chapter 9

Though he had wished her a peaceful sleep, Edward himself could not find rest at all. Rather than his bedchamber, he walked directly to his study, a dark frown between his brows.

His body felt as though it was on fire—alight with feelings and desires he believed he’d given up on ages ago. The hardness pulsating between his thighs, however, was a stark reminder that he had not, as he’d thought, truly forgotten what it meant to be human. To be a warm-blooded man.

With a grimace, he moved to sit behind his desk, his heart racing. She’d been so vulnerable beneath his touch, and she was so eager to respond to his kiss. His body heated up when he remembered the way she’d clung to him, the dampness he’d felt even through the material of her nightgown.

Without a sliver of doubt he knew. He knew that if he chose to return to her bedchamber, she’d be receptive and ready for him. The realization coursed through him, and he leaned forward slightly, his breath racing. How he longed to see and touch those curves without barriers between them, how he longed to press himself into her and feel her welcoming warmth as she’d wrap herself around him…

The thoughts plagued him until the first light of dawn penetrated the heavy curtains and Edward looked at it, almost surprised. He had not slept at all, he realized. The memory of Catherine Winslow, defiant and wide-eyed in her nightgown had kept him up, and was still sending an unwelcome surge of heat through his body.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. This woman was a threat, he reminded himself. She had invaded his privacy, stumbled upon secrets that could destroy everything he had worked to protect. And yet...

The knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. “Enter,” he called, his voice rougher than he intended.

Mr. Harper appeared, his expression as impassive as ever. “Miss Winslow wishes to see you at your earliest convenience, My Lord.”

Edward nodded curtly. “Send her in.”

As Catherine entered, Edward forced his face into a mask of cool indifference. But he couldn't help noticing the way the morning light caught her hair, the determined set of her jaw.

"Miss Winslow," he said, his tone carefully controlled. “I trust you slept well?”

He saw the flash of defiance in her eyes at his sarcastic tone, and something in him thrilled at it. This woman was not easily cowed. Her face, however, flushed for just a second and his heart raced. Had the same desire he felt kept her up too?

“As well as could be expected, My Lord,” she replied, her voice steady.

Edward moved to his desk, using it as a barrier between them. He needed distance if he was to maintain his composure. “I am glad you are here,” he said, watching her reaction closely. “I believe we need to establish some rules.”

Catherine's eyebrow lifted slightly, but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

“First,” Edward began, “you will have full use of the library and the house. I see no reason to restrict your movements, given that you've already taken liberties with my private possessions.”

He saw her flinch at the barb, but she held his gaze steadily.

“Second, you will not speak to Emily about what you have learned. Her innocence in this matter is to be preserved at all costs. Do you understand?”

Catherine nodded. “Of course, My Lord. I would never do anything to upset Emily.”

“Good,” Edward continued, his eyes narrowing. “Third, you will not engage in gossip with any townspeople. The affairs of Wessex Manor are not to be discussed outside these walls.”

“I assure you, I have no interest in gossip, My Lord,” Catherine replied, a hint of indignation in her voice.

Edward raised an eyebrow. “No? Your curiosity seemed quite... insatiable last night.”

A flush crept up Catherine's neck, but she held her ground. “That was different,” she said firmly. “I was seeking understanding, not fodder for idle chatter.”

“Regardless,” Edward said dismissively, “you will remain loyal to me and to this household. Any breach of these rules will result in your immediate dismissal. Is that clear?”

Catherine took a deep breath before responding. “My Lord, I hope you know that I would never do anything to hurt Emily, or to betray you, or to jeopardize my position here. I rely fully on you and your good opinion of me in order to survive.”

Edward frowned. “Explain.”

“I have no formal education,” Catherine said softly. “I am unwed and have no family. This position... it's all I have. I am at your mercy.”

For a moment, Edward was silent, studying her. “And yet,” he said, his voice terse, “you risked it by reading my journal.”

Catherine's gaze dropped to the floor. “A mistake I deeply regret, and one I will not repeat. But…” She looked up, meeting his eyes. “In order to truly serve you and Emily, in order to be the governess you need, I need to know what happened.”

Edward's jaw clenched. “You presume too much, Miss Winslow.”

“Perhaps,” Catherine said, taking a step forward. “But I care about Emily, about this household. How can I help protect what matters to you if I don't know anything about it?”

Edward stared at her, conflicting emotions warring within him. Part of him wanted to throw her out, to protect his secrets at all costs. But another part, a part he thought long dead, was impressed by her courage, her determination.

He moved to the window, staring out at the grounds of Wessex Manor. The morning mist still clung to the grass, shrouding the garden in an ethereal haze. Perhaps, he admitted to himself reluctantly, it would not be the worst thing in the world to share his burden with someone. For so long, he had carried it alone.

“Very well, Miss Winslow,” he said at last, his voice low and strained. “You wish to know what happened? I'll tell you.”

He turned back to face her, noting the mix of anticipation and apprehension in her eyes. “Five years ago, I returned home from London to find my parents murdered in my father's study.”

Catherine's eyes widened, but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

Edward's fists clenched at his sides as he recalled that horrific night. “The room was in disarray—papers scattered, furniture overturned. And there, on the floor…” He paused, taking a shuddering breath. “Their bodies. Broken and bloodied.”

He saw Catherine's hand move, as if to reach out to him, but she caught herself, clasping her hands tightly in front of her instead.

“My father's eyes were open, staring sightlessly at the ceiling,” Edward continued, his voice hollow. “My mother's hand was stretched out toward him, even in death. I... I tried. I tried to save them, to help them, but of course it was too late. They were gone.”

Catherine's face had paled, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh, My Lord,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry.”

Edward's expression hardened. “I don't want your pity, Miss Winslow. I want your discretion and your loyalty.”

He moved back to his desk, pulling out the leather-bound journal that had started this whole mess. “The killer was never caught. The constable claimed it was a robbery gone wrong, but I never believed that. There was more to it, I was certain.”

He flipped through the pages, filled with his desperate scrawl. “Ever since that night, I've been consumed with trying to solve their murder. I've filled journals like this with every detail I can remember, every lead I've pursued. But the truth still eludes me.”

Catherine took a hesitant step forward. “And that's why you live as you do? Isolated and guarded?”

Edward nodded grimly. “Until I solve this murder, I fear for my life and for Emily's. The killer is still out there, Miss Winslow. He could be anyone—a neighbor, a friend, even a servant. I cannot let anyone gain access to us.”

He looked up and understanding dawned in Catherine’s eyes, her lips falling slightly open. “That's why you reacted so strongly to me reading your journal,” she said softly. “You thought I might be…”

“A threat,” Edward finished for her. “Yes. I couldn't be sure. I still can't be entirely sure.”

Catherine straightened her spine, meeting his gaze squarely. “I understand your caution, My Lord. But I assure you, I am not your enemy. I want to help, if you'll let me.”

Edward studied her for a long moment, his gaze intense. “And how do you propose to do that, Miss Winslow?”

“I don't know yet,” Catherine admitted. “But I'm observant, I'm discreet, and I care deeply for Emily and for... for this household. Perhaps a fresh perspective might see something you've overlooked?”

Edward's lips twitched in what might have been a smile, had it not been tinged with bitterness. “You are either very brave or very foolish, Miss Winslow.”

“Perhaps a bit of both,” Catherine replied, offering a small smile of her own.

Edward's expression sobered. “You must understand, if you involve yourself in this, you could be putting yourself in danger. The killer, if he knew someone was investigating…”

“I understand the risks,” Catherine said firmly. “But I cannot in good conscience stand by and do nothing, not now that I know the truth.”

Edward moved closer to her, his eyes searching hers. “Why?” he asked softly. “Why would you risk your safety for us?”

Catherine's heart raced at his proximity. “Because it's the right thing to do,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because Lady Emily deserves to live without fear. And because you deserve justice and peace, My Lord.”

There was something in her eyes that sent a strange flash of warmth through his heart, but then he shook his head firmly.

“Your offer is... appreciated, Miss Winslow,” he said, stepping back. “But this is my burden to bear. I won't risk your safety or Emily's by involving you further.”

Catherine opened her mouth to protest, but Edward held up a hand to silence her. “This is not open for discussion. You know the truth now, and you will keep it to yourself. That is all I require of you.”

He moved back to his desk, his posture making it clear that the conversation was over. “You're dismissed, Miss Winslow. Remember the rules we've discussed.”

Catherine hesitated for a moment, clearly wanting to say more. But finally, she nodded. “As you wish, My Lord. Thank you for trusting me with the truth.”

“Miss Winslow,” Edward called out as she turned to leave and she paused at the door, looking back at him.

“Remember,” he said softly, dangerously. “I am watching you. Always.”

Catherine nodded once more before slipping out of the study, and closing the door behind her.

Edward sank into his chair, suddenly exhausted. He hadn't intended to reveal so much, but something about Catherine Winslow had compelled him to speak. She intrigued him—and unnerved him. And he was not quite sure that he liked it one bit.