Page 13 of The Governess’ Unlikely Suitor (The Dashworth Brothers #2)

Her eyes were tight and he wanted to rub the small creases gathering at their corners away with his thumb. ‘I am sure they were charmed, but Emily has only invited pleasant people this evening. Even if you babbled nonsense they are not a couple who would gossip about you.’

He was trying to put her at ease, but she only nodded, smiling brightly but falsely, tension in her shoulders.

‘Do you like soup?’ he asked, immediately wishing he could throw himself out of the window after he’d uttered the foolish words. He’d never spoken such inanity before.

He was rewarded for his lack of wits with the twitch of her lips. ‘I do.’

‘Excellent.’ Dear God. He was dicked in the nob and wool-brained and all the insults he would no doubt think about in the early hours of the morning when he was replaying this scene in his head a thousand times.

‘Do you?’

‘What?’

‘Do you like soup?’

‘Ah, not especially.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘How can you not?’

‘It is very wet.’ He was being even more foolish, but the stiffness in her back was loosening and he would carry on being idiotic if that’s what it took for her to relax.

Biting her lip, seemingly holding in a laugh, she said, ‘While true, surely you are aware of each soup having a different flavour. You cannot dislike all of it. That is like saying you do not like food.’

‘It is not at all like saying that. It is the consistency I do not care for. Especially when bits of vegetable or meat surprise you in the liquid.’ He shuddered, only half of the gesture for her amusement; he truly did dislike discovering lumps in soup.

Her laugh was bright and luminous and made his heart swell with pride because he had caused such a joyous sound.

Her lips parted, about to say something, but Emily announced the start of dinner and whatever it was, was lost. Holding out his arm, he waited for her to place her fingers on his sleeve.

When she did, the touch featherlight, he momentarily lost the ability to function.

Her hand was gloved. He was wearing a shirt and a jacket.

Her touch was barely there, and yet he could feel it throughout his body.

‘Edward,’ she murmured softly.

He jerked. ‘I am sorry; my mind wandered. Shall we?’

Nodding, she allowed him to guide her into the room.

She’d been seated towards the bottom of the table, near Emily, with him to her right and Alexander on her other side.

Edward made the introduction mechanically, drawing on years of experience at Society dinners to carry out the movements and words he’d made thousands of times.

He did not like the gleam that appeared in Alexander’s eyes or the soft smile on Kate’s lips as she responded to whatever the other man had said.

Edward studied the knives and forks laid out in front of him with an intensity the arrangement did not warrant but which kept his focus away from Kate and the way her fingers fluttered against the stem of her wine glass.

The meal started. Kate turned to him because he’d told her that she should speak to the man on her right and she had been listening.

The problem was, he did not appear to have any words.

He’d meant what he’d said to Christopher; he was not going to act on his attraction.

He could not in all good conscience pursue a relationship with a woman who depended on his family for everything.

His decision not to be attracted to their house guest did not seem to have penetrated his brain, however.

The candlelight made the red in her hair shimmer like flickers of a flame; he wanted to reach out, to be burned by the touch of it.

From the dregs of his mind, he summoned up words. ‘The dress Emily found for you is… very fetching.’ Beautiful, mesmerising, delectable were all better adjectives but would reveal too much of his real thoughts.

She glanced down at it and smiled widely.

‘Emily is very talented. This used to be hers, but she was able to adjust it to fit me with such ease. You should have seen how fast her fingers moved; it was mesmerising. She has offered to teach me the way of it, but I fear I am too clumsy.’ She held up her fingers as if to show him.

‘I cannot do it,’ he blurted out, trying to stay on track.

‘Do what?’

‘Sew.’

She took a small sip of her wine. ‘I am surprised to learn you have tried to do so.’

‘You think me incapable?’ It was good she had a low opinion of him because… his mind scrambled for a reason. Ah yes, it was good, because if she tried to seduce him, he would be lost. If she thought him a bumbling fool, then there was less danger of this all going to hell.

‘I think a man brought up in a ducal household would have little recourse for such a skill,’ she replied.

‘My aunt, the woman who raised us, did not treat us like sons of a duke. She was very strict and displeasing her brought terrible consequences down on us. If I tore something, I tried to mend it.’ He smoothed a hand over the tablecloth.

Time with his aunt was not something he liked to talk about and especially not at an event like this.

‘I did not do well.’ The aftermath had been very unpleasant indeed.

She nodded thoughtfully. ‘I cannot say I have mastered the art either. It seems to require a lot of patience and I am afraid I do not have that in abundance.’

‘What do you like to do?’ he asked, grateful to move the topic of conversation away from anything that reminded him of Miss Dunn.

She pushed a few crumbs around. ‘I have never really thought about it before. I like to eat cake.’ Her smile was impish and he felt his answering one in the pit of his stomach. ‘I like to read when I have the time.’

‘Then you must avail yourself of Tobias’ library.’

She tapped the tablecloth. ‘Jane seems to think the place is sacred and lesser mortals are not allowed to enter. I would not want to upset the duke when he has been so kind towards me.’

‘Tobias is very protective of the space, but I am sure he will not mind a member of the household entering. I will check with him if you prefer.’

‘Please do.’ She nodded vigorously. ‘I should hate to trespass on his privacy.’

They both glanced to the head of the table where Tobias was listening to someone speaking, his dark eyes hooded, his lips unsmiling.

Now and then, Edward sensed his older brother was a kinder man than his stern exterior suggested, but it was hard to believe that looking at him now.

‘Very well, I shall do so later and send word to you.’

Silence fell between them. All around, the dinner guests talked and laughed.

Tobias may be quiet and brooding but he always served good food and was liberal with his wine cellar.

Edward pretended to concentrate on his soup but couldn’t stop his eyes returning to Kate’s wrist as she delicately ate her meal in the way he had instructed earlier.

‘I do not think there are any lumps in this,’ she murmured to him after a while.

‘Long may that continue.’

‘It is delicious.’

He made a noise that could not truly be called an agreement.

‘You do not think so?’

‘Like I said earlier, soup is very wet.’

‘And yet you do not seem to have any problem with the wine.’

He took a sip, proving her right. ‘Yes, but it is a drink and therefore meant to be of this consistency. This—’ he tapped his bowl ‘—is food and should not be runny.’

The corner of her eyes crinkled in a small smile. ‘Tell me about fencing. I have never done it and I am interested in what it involves.’

The rest of the meal passed quickly. She kept up a quick litany of questions, not allowing the topic to stray back to her and appearing to be interested in everything he said.

Once or twice he tried to ask her something about her previous employment, but she deftly turned the conversation back to him.

If he hadn’t known otherwise, he would have assumed she was as at home in the dining room as he was, that she had been born to sit amongst the peerage and discuss their interests.

She was going to be just fine slotting herself into Society and that thought should make him happy.

Once she had friends, which she undoubtedly would, she would be out of Glanmore House, calling on acquaintances and going to exhibitions and the like.

Their paths would rarely cross, which was for the best and in no way should cause an ache in his sternum.

When Emily gave the notice for their guests to turn to their companions seated on the other side of them, Kate turned to speak with Alexander Wright, talking to the stranger like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Before long, the two of them were laughing softly and it took every ounce of willpower Edward possessed not to turn around and insert himself in their conversation.

Instead, he tried to focus on the woman sitting on his other side, Emily’s good friend, Eloisa.

Eloisa was witty and engaging, but tonight he struggled to concentrate on anything she said.

When he asked her to repeat herself for the third time, she quite rightly gave up on him and began telling everyone around her an amusing story about her husband and a hat stand.

From the tears of mirth from the other guests, the tale must have been very funny, but he did not hear a word of it.

After an eternity, Emily announced it was time for the ladies to retire.

All the men stood, Alexander Wright looking at Kate like she had hung the sun in the sky.

Damn the man for being pleasant and not some bounder whom Edward could have ejected from the house.

The only solace he could take from the whole evening was when Kate turned to him before she left.

Leaning closer to him so that he could smell the sweet wine on her breath, she whispered, ‘Thank you for your help this afternoon; I could not have managed this evening without it.’

He could only grunt in reply, his whole body desperate to close the small gap between them. Gripping the stem of the wine glass, he held himself still. And then, she was gone, following the other women out of the dining room without a backward glance.