Page 25 of The Governess and the Rogue (Somerset Stories #6)

After his interview with James last night, Jack had lain awake in his room for hours, thinking about her.

He’d imagined her at his side during the hectic week to come, meeting his family, and accompanying him to the ball.

He was used to having her with him, as his ally and friend.

She made him feel strong. Capable. As though he had something worthwhile to stand for. To fight for.

But she hadn’t agreed to any of this.

The swell of her full skirts was brushing up against his leg. He took a fold of the worn gray wool between his fingers. It wasn’t the same as taking her hand. Certainly not the same as kissing her. But it was better than nothing.

“Forgive my complaining,” he said. “I rarely get maudlin.”

“Not at all,” Bea said. “You’ve certainly heard me complaining about my situation enough.”

“Mine isn’t nearly so dire—except to my pride.”

“Yes, well… families can be difficult,” she said. “Or so I’ve observed during my years as a governess. I expect it’s different if the family is your own.”

Jack frowned. He didn’t like to think of her being an outsider. Always on the periphery. Never included. Never secure. “You have no memories of life with your own family?”

“Only happy ones,” Bea said. “Although, I confess, they are a little faded now.”

“My family is a happy one, too. Just complicated.” He gave her skirts a tug. “Not to worry. It’s nothing I can’t manage.”

The color in Bea’s cheeks turned a shade darker. She pulled her skirts from his grasp. “Must you disarrange my person in such a cavalier manner?”

Jack smiled at the tartness in her words. If not for her blushes, he’d think she was irritated with him. “I enjoy disarranging your person.”

“Really, Jack. How are we to converse if you?—”

“Yes, yes. Point taken. You were saying?”

“ You were saying.” She straightened her skirts. “I believe you were about to tell me what it is that we’re going to do about this mess.”

Jack’s mood sobered. “ We’re not going to do anything,” he said. “This is my problem, not yours.”

Her gaze jolted to his. “But I thought?—”

“You’re right,” he said. “It’s best that you slip away this morning. I’ll take you to a hotel in Maidenbridge myself. It won’t be as far removed from Beasley as if you’d stayed in Southampton, but in many ways it’s better.”

Bea shook her head. “Jack?—”

“You’ll be safer nearby, for one. And for another, I can more easily reach you with your reference and the direction of your new employer. I’ll speak with Hannah today.”

Her eyes narrowed. “After you’ve told her that I’ve surreptitiously abandoned you?”

“No one in my family will blame you for that,” he said. “They’ll think you an uncommonly sensible female. As for the rest of it… They can cancel the ball. Send word to the villagers that we’ve broken up. It will be a nine days’ scandal, but I’ve endured worse, and you’ll be well out of it.”

Bea didn’t appear at all mollified by this fact. Quite the reverse.

She stood abruptly. “And this is what you’d have me do? Slink away with my tail between my legs, leaving you to face the whole of your family on your own?”

Jack’s brows notched in a defensive scowl. “It was you who suggested it.”

She folded her arms across her midsection, pacing the muddy bank in front of him. “Yes, a very practical plan,” she muttered. “As well as being faithless, cowardly, and?—”

“You’re talking nonsense,” he said. “We both know that the wisest course?—”

She came to a sudden halt. “What if I didn’t go?”

Jack’s breath stopped in his chest. “What?”

“What if I stayed until after the ball?” she asked.

He regarded her warily, even as his pulse quickened. “Why on earth would you?”

“To help you,” she said.

“Yes, but why subject yourself?—”

“To help you,” she said again. “You helped me on the Pera.”

“We helped each other.”

“So you say. But I’ve never thought our positions equal. The service you did me has always been far greater than the one I did for you.”

“No, it hasn’t,” Jack said. “Not in terms of?—”

“In terms of money. You paid for my passage and my stateroom. Not to mention my rail fare in a first-class compartment, and all my meals?—”

“Bea, will you stop talking rot?”

“It isn’t rot.” She stood over him, the shawl he’d given her drooping from her shoulders. A stray lock of hair curled around her cheek. “It’s a debt. And one I mean to repay.”

Jack stared at her. “Good God. You’re serious.”

“I like it no better than you,” she said. “I obviously don’t fit here, and I?—”

“If I say you fit, you fit,” Jack interrupted with sudden fierceness. “And who the devil would know better than I?”

“Your oldest brother,” she replied promptly. “Your parents. The rest of your siblings.”

Jack gripped his cane, using it to get to his feet. His knee twinged sharply, sending a spike of pain up his leg. He gritted his teeth against it. “Don’t judge them by St. Clare’s ridiculous standards. Wait until you meet Ivo and Kate. You’ll see that I’m speaking the truth.”

Bea took a step back as he came to stand in front of her. Her blush returned, but she didn’t shy away from his gaze. She met his eyes boldly. “It little matters to our plan. Our fake engagement will only continue for a few days longer.”

Jack marked the subtle alteration in her color and the slight unevenness in her breath. His body responded to every change, his blood warming and his heart losing its rhythm.

“And you’re not to think any of this is an effort to trap you,” Bea added. “No matter what foolish thought I may have given voice to on the docks.”

“What foolish thought?” he asked her.

“The one I mentioned in the moments just before you caught sight of your brother,” she said. “But perhaps you didn’t hear me? You were that alarmed once you saw him.”

Jack smiled slowly. He had been alarmed to see James. But he hadn’t lost all his faculties. “I heard you.”

Her cheeks blazed. “Did you?”

“I did,” he said. “And I didn’t think it foolish.”

She briefly dropped her gaze, flustered. “It was a hypothetical, merely. Governesses pose them all the time when making arguments. I didn’t mean?—”

“Bea—”

“I was simply making a point,” she said. “I shouldn’t like it to cause any misapprehensions about our agreement.”

Jack felt a disconcerting rush of tenderness for her. “I have no misapprehensions about you. On that you may rest assured.”

“Good.” Her eyes tentatively lifted back to his. “Not that it would matter one jot, when the end result will be the same.”

“An amicable breakup?”

“Exactly,” she said.

Jack reached to adjust her shawl, pulling the drooping cashmere back over her shoulder. He was no longer sure about end results. About her, or about himself. All he knew was that, whatever this was, he wanted it to last a while longer.

“If you’re certain that’s what you desire,” he said.

Bea’s throat bobbed on a delicate swallow. She managed a small nod. “It is.”