Page 31 of The Governess’ Unlikely Suitor (The Dashworth Brothers #2)

L ady Albrighton’s conservatory was dark, the only light coming from the moon that picked out the huge potted plants covering the majority of the space and cast long shadows over the tiled floor. Kate squeezed herself between two, her breathing sounding ragged in the otherwise silent space.

Michael Chorley was here, not just in London but in this house.

He had been yards away from her when Edward had thrown himself bodily between them.

How had he known she needed him? Had her brother told the Dashworth family about Michael?

She had hoped he had not. She had wanted to put the man and what had happened with him behind her.

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the conservatory.

A man’s definitely. And in a hurry too. Shrinking back, she pushed herself against the solid wall, her whole body trembling.

If Mr Chorley found her here, she had no idea what he would do.

She should have stayed in the ballroom where he would not have been able to make a scene.

The footsteps stopped and she heard the unmistakable sound of the conservatory door opening followed by the sharp snap of shoes on the tiled floor.

She held her breath, knowing her panicked breathing would otherwise give her away.

‘Kate?’ said a deep voice.

‘Edward,’ she replied, her knees almost giving way as relief swept through her.

‘Where are you?’

‘Over here.’

He didn’t ask again. His footsteps headed towards her.

‘Here,’ she said again as he grew closer.

‘Oh.’ he said when he saw her. ‘What are you doing in there?’

‘I am hiding.’ She would have thought that was obvious. ‘Emily said she hid behind plant pots at balls, so this seemed like as good a space as any.’

He didn’t try to tug her out or step closer to crowd her. Instead, he moved to another pot, slightly further away, and leaned on it, crossing his arms casually as if this were a perfectly normal thing to be doing. ‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’

She pressed herself tighter to the wall. ‘No.’

‘All right.’ He smoothed a hand over the edge of the pot nearest him. ‘What do you think she is growing in these?’

‘Pineapples.’

‘Oh, I have never had one of those. Have you?’

‘No, but I have heard they are delicious.’

‘Then we must see if we can grow some at Glanmore House. I do not think the conservatory is used much. Freddie is the one who likes plants, but he prefers to be outside. There will be plenty of space for us to grow some of these.’

He stared up at the plant, acting like they had all the time in the world to stand in the darkness and discuss fruit trees.

‘I used to work for Mr and Mrs Chorley,’ she blurted out. ‘Mr Chorley was the man on the edge of the ballroom, the one who you intercepted.’

‘I see.’ Still he did not press.

‘They were my last employers before… before Bentswood Street.’

Edward nodded, no change to his expression.

‘He was… he thought…’ She pressed herself into the wall again.

She did not like to think about how helpless she had been when she had lived with the Chorley family.

She had been with the family for six months before it had become too intolerable to bear.

‘He ruled his house with an iron will. Everyone was frightened of him and he liked it that way. I stayed as long as I did because of his poor children but then it… I…’ Her voice faded away as she remembered those last few weeks in which she had not known what on earth she was going to do.

‘I understand what it is like to live like that. It eats at your soul.’

‘Yes, it felt exactly like that. I wrote to Simon to tell him I could not take it any longer and asked if I could stay with him while I looked for another post. I now think Mr Chorley read my letter. It never arrived with Simon, at any rate. But I had drawn attention to myself and that was not the thing to do.’ She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stem the tears pricking the back of her eyes.

She did not want to cry through this story; she had fought back, moved on.

She was stronger than Michael Chorley had ever given her credit for.

‘He started to come into the children’s schoolroom.

He criticised everything, wearing down my spirits until I felt like a speck of dust; one puff and I would be blown away.

He was particularly cruel about my hair and, I am not vain, I do not care what I look like, but my mother had the same colour and somehow those words managed to cut me and he knew it.

’ She huffed out a laugh, although she did not find anything about it funny.

‘Your hair is beautiful,’ he said. His words resonated with truth and something in her softened.

‘Thank you.’

‘I am not saying it to make you feel good. It is a fact. That is probably why he picked it. People who crave power are like that. My aunt was adept at finding weak spots in my brothers and me and grinding us down about it. For me, it was my music. Anything she would find to criticise, she would, until she stripped the joy away from it. This Chorley is the same; he is a liar and a brute.’ He paused. ‘Would you like to come out now?’

‘Not yet.’

‘That is all right. We can stay here for the rest of the night if need be.’

‘Thank you.’ She fiddled with the necklace Emily had given her to wear tonight; the chain was delicate and she had loved it on sight.

She’d adored swirling around the dance floor all evening and had truly enjoyed the attention of her dance partners, especially relishing the annoyance on Edward’s face when he realised she was popular.

How petty her satisfaction seemed now in the wake of his patient kindness. ‘My story is not finished.’

‘Ah.’ There was a world of sadness in that one word and her infatuation for this man deepened a little bit more.

‘He started to touch me.’

Edward swore under his breath.

‘Nowhere I could really complain about. My elbow more often than not. Over a few days, it became a grip and I realised he was so much physically stronger than me. I do not think he found me attractive; his disappointed frown whenever his gaze raked over my body suggested he found me slightly repellent. But one day, I think for a show of power, he forced his mouth onto mine. It was… it was not pleasant.’

Edward was standing tall now, his body taut.

‘Simon taught me how to defend myself. Mr Chorley was not expecting me to knee him where it hurt the most. While he was lying on the floor groaning and calling me all sorts of names, I rushed to my room and locked myself in. When night came, I climbed out of the window and ran.’

‘You were alone in the dark?’

‘It was less frightening than staying in the Chorley household.’

His dark eyes glinted, his expression unclear in the darkness of the conservatory. ‘I see. Go on.’

‘There is very little left to say. I managed to get to Simon.’ She skipped over the terror of those few days.

The coaching inn where the staff had not been kind, the carriage that had seemed to take a thousand years pressed up against strangers, none of it was relevant.

‘But Mr Chorley had his address, doubtless because he had stolen my letter. He destroyed my brother’s home, the place where he met clients.

We arrived back at the house as he was leaving; he did not even try to hide his face.

He looked proud of the destruction. There was nothing of value for us to salvage; we were reduced to almost nothing because he could not control me.

I believe he contacted all of my previous employers, frightening them into not writing a reference for me, and he spread rumours about my brother, which meant it was hard for him to find decent work and impossible for me.

I do not know what we would have done if you had not come along and offered him the job. I will always be grateful.’

‘Your brother earned the job in his own right and Freddie offered you a place in our home because he liked you. There is no need to be grateful.’

‘That does not mean I will stop feeling it.’

They descended into silence.

‘I think I can come out now.’

He stepped towards her hiding place, holding out a hand.

She took it, the warmth of his fingers cutting through the fabric of her gloves to her icy hands beneath. She stumbled forward and somehow her arms wrapped around his waist, sliding beneath his jacket against the shirt below. His arms came around her shoulders, pulling her close.

‘I have got you,’ his deep voice rumbled into her hair.

‘You are safe with me.’ She breathed him in, the scent of his cologne over the faint trace of salt from his sweat.

His body was warm and solid beneath the soft skin of her cheek.

She had spent many days and nights imagining being held by him, but in those daydreams he was brushing the hair from her face and lowering his mouth to hers, claiming her for his own, sometimes sweetly and sometimes with a burning passion.

This was not like that; this was comfortable, the warmth of a friend at a time of need.

His hand stroked the length of her back, comforting her like she were a child waking from a nightmare.

He was her sanctuary and she knew that as long as she was with him, she would be protected.

The steady thud of his heartbeat beneath her ear helped to gradually reduce her fear. It slowly seeped out of her, leaving her with a bone-weariness. She did not think she could stand by herself if she tried.

‘He was bold to come after your brother,’ he said after a while.

‘It is easy for members of the Ton to treat those of us who were not born to such lofty heights with contempt. They can get away with it because they have the money and the connections to get people to look the other way.’

He grunted and she could not tell whether it was disapproval or agreement.

‘I do not think you need worry he will drag your family’s name through the mud,’ she said to him after a while. ‘He will like the idea of having power over me and he will believe he will lose it if he reveals our connection too soon.’

‘Do not worry about him.’ Edward’s words were final and dark, the sound of the lid snapping closed on a coffin. Edward’s jaw was tight, his lips set in a grim line. The hand stroking her may have been soothing, but he was rigid with rage, she realised.

‘I did not tell you my story to cause problems but to explain…’

‘You have not caused problems.’ His hand was still soft and gentle, but his tone was anything but. Icy fear crept into her stomach, worse than when she had seen Chorley standing on the edge of the dance floor.

‘You must not do anything silly.’ He could not get hurt, not because of her.

‘Silly?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘What would constitute silly?’

‘Getting into a fight with him or something similar.’

Edward’s lips twisted in something approximating a smile. ‘I would love to punch him, but I will not hurt him physically, do not worry.’ He paused, head tilted to the side. ‘I will end him, however.’

She pushed away from him, her hands on his chest. His grip on her loosened, but he did not let go. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I have not decided yet, but I can promise you whatever I do, it will not be silly .’

‘Edward, I…’ But before she could get any further, she heard a noise from outside the room they were in.

‘Christopher said she ran off in this direction,’ Emily said, her voice as clear as a bell.

‘We cannot look in every room,’ Freddie argued back. ‘I say we go back to the ballroom and see if she has returned. Perhaps she only went to the retiring room.’

‘It was the first place I checked; she was not there.’

There was much Kate wanted to say to Edward.

Chorley was not his problem to sort out.

If anyone dealt with him, it should be her, not him.

Nor was it anything to do with the Dashworths.

She did not want Emily and Freddie to hear the story she had just revealed.

She wanted to go back to forgetting the man existed, to focus on her future and what would come next after she left Glanmore House.

She needed to make Edward understand this.

But she also didn’t want Freddie and Emily to search the house for her when she could tell them now that she was safe and well.

The decision was taken out of her hands when Emily said, ‘Let us try in the conservatory. If she is not there, we will go back to the ballroom and wait.’

‘There is no light on.’

‘That makes it the perfect place to hide.’

Steps headed their way. Edward dropped his arms, stepping back from her quickly and putting a respectable space between them. Ice rushed along her skin, goose bumps running along her flesh.

‘I am here,’ she called out to Emily, wanting to announce her presence rather than be found.

Emily came forward, her arms outstretched ready for a hug.

She stopped when she rounded a pot and caught sight of Edward standing opposite her.

The countess’ eyes flickered from one to the other.

If it had been another member of the Ton, Kate realised her reputation would have been destroyed instantly, but Kate was only a governess and their reputations counted for nought.

Even so, she thought Emily might question what they were doing alone in the dark or Freddie might make some joke at his brother’s expense, but there was only silence, a pause which seemed to stretch on and on.

Eventually, Emily said, ‘Would you like to go home now?’

It was only slightly later, when they were bundled in the carriage that bore the ducal crest that she realised she still had not established what silly might mean.