Page 28 of The Governess’ Unlikely Suitor (The Dashworth Brothers #2)

E dward tapped out a few notes on the piano, his heart not really in creating music this early in the morning, especially when tiredness weighed him down.

He could hear servants in the corridor outside the music room, but they were moving quietly, presumably not to wake the rest of the household who were still abed.

He’d barely slept, had barely eaten or functioned properly since yesterday afternoon.

He’d come close to kissing Kate.

She’d turned her face to his and her mouth had been so close, so unbelievably close, and everything in him had screamed at him to bend his head and press his lips to hers.

He’d forgotten his promises to himself, forgotten she was not for him, forgotten his brother and sister-in-law were in the room with them.

All that had mattered was her. If Emily had not made a sound, he would have kissed her, consequences be damned.

He was not sure if his sister-in-law had done it on purpose or if it had truly been an accident.

Freddie and she had certainly had some sort of silent marital conversation during the rest of the dance lesson, their eyes flashing and hands flicking when they thought he wasn’t watching.

It shocked him how quickly his resolve had crumbled. Everything he had promised himself had gone in an instant and he wasn’t sure whether he regretted his loss of control or the fact he and Kate had not been alone.

The door to the music room clicked open softly and he turned, expecting to see a maid.

‘Oh,’ said Kate, stopping on the threshold. ‘I am sorry. I was not expecting to find you here. I will go.’

She was wearing a pale green dress she had not worn before.

It was cut to follow the generous lines of her curves.

Her hair was loosely up, but he thought she must have done it herself rather than wait for her maid, because strands were already coming undone.

When he did not say anything she turned to leave.

That would have been for the best, so, of course, he heard himself say, ‘No, please stay.’

She paused in the act of opening the door. ‘I do not want to disturb you.’

‘You are not. I was trying to work on the piece I played for you the other day, but I seem to have lost my way with it.’

She let the door close with her still in the room, stepping towards the piano, a half-smile on her face. ‘It sounded perfect to me.’

‘The middle refrain was clumsy, but I cannot find a way to fix it, so please do come in and save me from myself. Are you here to practise?’

‘I am, but I fear I am not making any progress. My fingers feel too thick on the keys, like they are overcooked sausages.’ She held out her hands like she was expecting him to agree with her.

As quite a few of his fantasies involved those fingers on his body, he did not need to look to know she was talking utter nonsense, although studying them revealed fresh details.

Now he noticed the smattering of freckles on the back of her left hand, which stretched almost to her little finger and he knew his mind would latch onto the image and remind him of it at inconvenient moments when he should be thinking about something else.

He stood, moving away from the instrument. ‘I am sure you do not sound as bad as you think. Do have a seat and show me.’

‘I am somewhat reluctant. If you think your playing was bad, I do not know how to describe mine.’ Despite what she said, she came and sat on the pianoforte stool.

‘Do you need to see the music?’ he asked.

‘I cannot look at it because I need to study my fingers.’

He tried not to laugh but a snort escaped him.

‘I am going to ignore that,’ she told him.

‘Good, because it was very ungentlemanly of me.’

‘It was,’ she agreed. She bent over the keys as if she needed to be close to them to see them and started to play.

If he were being kind, he would say it was an improvement on her first attempt. It could not, however, be described as melodic. As she came towards the end, her spine began to straighten and she played the final note with something that could claim to be close to being a spirited attempt.

As the note faded away, he clapped. ‘That was a huge improvement. Well done.’

‘Hmm.’ She folded her arms under her chest.

He did manage to pull his gaze away from how the gesture enhanced her curves, but he wasn’t quite gentlemanly enough not to notice at all.

‘There is no need to sound so disbelieving. It really was better.’

‘You are using the tone of voice governesses use when they do not want their charges to become despondent.’

‘Ah. Well…’ There was nothing he could say to defend himself; he very probably had. He cleared his throat, trying for a deeper pitch. ‘It was an improvement.’

She swivelled on the chair. ‘That would not be hard though, would it?’

‘Admittedly not, no.’

She smiled at his admission, and the gesture lit up her face, making her even lovelier. Long moments passed and he realised they were just looking at one another, smiling.

‘You never got to learn the waltz yesterday.’

‘I did not.’

‘Would you like to go through the steps now?’ he asked, ignoring the warnings in his head.

The voice that told him what a bad idea it would be, how he would always compare her with every other woman he waltzed with from now until the end of time.

Why should he not hold her in his arms? What was wrong with that?

Her gaze dropped to her hands on her lap. ‘I thought you did not approve of me learning that dance.’

It wasn’t that he didn’t approve; it was that the thought of her standing close to a man who wasn’t him made him want to destroy worlds.

To prevent her was not fair of him though.

She should be free to meet a man who was her equal in every way.

His fingers twitched and he clasped his hands behind his back.

‘I thought there would not be time to get permission from the Society matrons, but as Emily said, it will only be a small gathering tomorrow evening. No one will question whether you have acquired the permission or not.’

‘Very well, I should like to learn.’ She stood. ‘Should we get Emily?’

No. He did not want to get anyone else. He did not want to be bossed around by his sister-in-law as he ached to touch Kate. ‘I do not think she will be awake yet, but if you would prefer to wait…’

‘Oh no. It is fine.’

‘Or you can fetch Jane…’ Perhaps that would be better. He might want to indulge himself by holding her in his arms for a little while, but if there was someone else in the room, he would not forget himself.

‘No, it is not necessary.’

It is just a dance, he reminded himself as she walked towards him. Although older than him, she was still an innocent who trusted him not to take advantage of the situation. His fingers may be shaking but it did not mean he would behave anything less than the gentleman he was.

Coming to a stop opposite him, she left as much space between them as if this were a quadrille.

‘The reason this dance needs permission,’ he said, his voice husky even to his own ears, ‘is because the partners are much closer than in other dances. It is seen by some to be quite scandalous, even though the couples are barely touching.’

She nodded.

He held his hands up into the correct position, but he did not step forward. ‘If you would like to stop at any time, you must say.’

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. ‘I will, I promise.’ Her gaze went to his hands, her eyes turning a little hazy. ‘I would like to learn.’

He brushed a hand across his jaw, his mouth suddenly dry. ‘If you hold your hands like this.’ He held his hands up to show her, and she mimicked his posture. ‘And then place your hand here.’ He pointed to a place on his shoulder. ‘And rest your other one in mine.’

They weren’t wearing gloves, and as her fingers slid against his, he realised he was in deep trouble.

Nothing compared to the touch of her; no one had ever made his body sing like this from such a simple gesture.

His other hand came around her as though in a dream, his palm resting against her shoulder blade.

They were close enough for him to smell the sweet scent of her perfume, for his breath to stir the soft curls in her hair.

Without thinking, he stepped forward into the first move of the dance, his thigh colliding with hers. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured, not truly meaning it; he could not regret the feel of her against him. ‘I should have explained the moves before I started moving.’

Her chest was rising and falling quickly, a rush of goose bumps forming on the side of her neck. ‘It is fine. I…’

He waited but when she didn’t continue, he said, ‘Let us try again. The dance is a simple rise and fall to the beat of three.’ He quickly went through it, warning her this time when he was about to move.

They walked through it first, her counting softly to herself.

He was so far gone for this woman he found everything she did adorable.

He wanted to bottle the moment, to preserve it so he could get it out and look at it again when it was over, but that was not possible.

This was a slice out of time, a memory to treasure, but for now he would live it.

‘Are you ready to add music?’

Her head tilted up to his, her blue eyes as clear as a cloudless sky. ‘How will we do that?’

‘I will hum the notes.’

‘Oh yes, I would like that.’

Never had he wanted to kiss a woman as badly as he wanted to now.

His restraint was hanging by a very thin thread.

He turned his head so that he was not gazing into her eyes, hoping the gesture would be enough for him to remember all the reasons he was not pressing her further.

The only thing keeping him clinging to his rational thoughts was the memory of kissing the maid and discovering it had not been because she returned his fervent admiration but out of a weird sense of obligation and desire for something else.

It would crush him if Kate felt in any way the same.

‘Are you ready to move?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

The skin of her neck was flushed and he watched with fascination as the colour crept up towards her face, spilling across her cheekbones. He did not ask her about it. If it meant she was hot, she could ask him to stop; if she was embarrassed, she could do the same.

He started to hum and they began to move, their steps in sync, their movements flowing as if the two of them had spent their whole lives performing this dance together.

He lost track of time as he hummed the music, the minutes stretching out as they moved around the music room over and over again.

Gradually, so slowly he was barely aware of it, her head came to rest against his chest, her soft hair tickling his chin.

Their movements slowed, still rising and falling but to a softer rhythm.

Her thighs brushed against his, his fingers slipping to her spine, gently tracing the bumps of it until he reached the base of her neck.

Their clasped hands rested against his shoulder and their movement became more of a gentle sway.

Still he did not let go; neither did she.

The carriage clock on the mantlepiece sounded out the chime for ten o’clock. Breakfast would be being laid out. The rest of the household would be making their way to the food. Kate and his absence would be noticed. He should let go, step away and resume his normal day, but he could not.

They stilled but she did not lift her head from her place on his chest and he did not ask her to.

‘Edward,’ she whispered.

‘Yes,’ he replied, just as quietly. She did not say anything more. His fingers moved slightly, brushing the skin at the nape of her neck. She sucked in a quick breath at the contact. ‘I am sorry, I…’

‘No,’ she said, pressing closer to him. ‘Do not. Not yet. I…’

Once again, she did not continue, but he thought he understood what she meant. Like him, she was not ready to break the moment, to return to reality. Unfortunately, reality was returning to him.

‘It is time for breakfast,’ he said. ‘We should go.’ He swallowed, his fingers tightening against her for a heartbeat, then another, before he found the strength to let go and step backwards. ‘We should go,’ he said, more clearly this time.

For a long moment, she stared at his chest, not moving, not saying anything. She nodded slowly, not looking up at his face. ‘You are right.’ She stepped past him and left him wondering how on earth he had managed to make such a mess at the end.