Page 37 of The Governess’ Unlikely Suitor (The Dashworth Brothers #2)

E dward pulled off his cravat and tossed it onto a chair, glancing at it once before picking it up, folding it neatly and placing it in a drawer.

Unbuttoning the top of his shirt, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

He expected to see a ravaged face, lips that snarled and a frown so deeply carved into his forehead that it was a permanent fixture.

Instead, he saw his normal features looking back at him, eyes rimmed with darkness from lack of sleep, lips marginally downturned but not so a stranger would notice.

Looking at him, you would not know he had lived through his own personal hell over the last week.

He cared for Kate more than he’d realised.

In the two months she had been living with them, he’d grown used to the way his heart picked up whenever he caught a glimpse of her.

He’d almost become accustomed to the way they might share a smile at something Charlotte did or an amused grimace whenever Freddie and Emily became too much with their mutual devotion.

He’d held himself back from making more of it, of trying to make her his, because he had believed, truly and utterly, that he should not take advantage of her while she lived in his house.

Now it appeared, he had left it too late.

Flowers were crammed into every corner of Glanmore House.

Every time he came across a new arrangement, it was like being slapped in the face, the fanciful petals a reminder that he could have started courting her when they first met or at the very least begun a light flirtation.

Now he existed in a state of near constant panic that she might meet someone she liked better than him.

Not as difficult a feat as he would have previously believed; his jealousy was making him a bore.

When she smiled at him in some shared joke, his envious heart would not allow him to respond properly.

He’d managed one compliment on the first day of the torrent of flowers but nothing since.

During the evening meal they had all just suffered through, he’d been grumpy and aloof.

At least he’d managed to apologise for his behaviour and put it down to tiredness.

The way his eyes looked, his lack of sleep was obviously not a lie.

Knowing he had behaved like an idiotic buffoon over the meal would mean tonight would be no better.

Until he could think of a resolution to his desire for Kate, he was destined to endure endless wakeful nights.

A light knock at his door broke him from his reverie.

He stared blankly at the door, wondering if he had imagined the sound.

He had sent his valet away, so it was unlikely he was returning.

Besides, the man would not knock. Neither would Christopher, the only one of his brothers who might think to invade his privacy.

That only left one person but surely… The tap came again.

He strode towards the door, pulling it open before the person could think twice and leave.

Still dressed in the gown she had worn to the family dinner, Kate smiled shyly at him. Without asking what she was doing, he pulled the door open wider and stepped to the side to let her in.

He gestured to a settee that ran along the wall of the sitting room he used whenever his family became too much.

He realised he had not spent much time in here since Kate had come to live with them, preferring to be in the Blue Lounge in case she happened to join them.

‘Please take a seat,’ he said as if this were a tea party he’d invited her to and not his private suite at a time that was long since past appropriate.

Her dress rustled as she made her way across the room, the sound incongruously loud in the stillness.

‘You are very tidy,’ she said as she sat down. ‘Either that or you do not own very much.’

He took in the surroundings, trying to see it from her point of view. It was true that there was nothing on display: no books or newspapers, no writing utensils or personal mementoes. He had those things, but they were put away, each in their own place.

‘If things are left all over the place, it is tantamount to spiders running all across my skin. I do not care for it.’

She adjusted the cuff of her short sleeve, drawing his attention to the soft skin of her upper arm. ‘That does not sound pleasant.’

‘It is not.’

‘Why is that?’ she asked, like it were perfectly normal for her to be sitting in his rooms, all alone after the rest of the house was abed.

He paced in front of her, wishing he had left something out after all, something he could tidy away to occupy his hands.

For want of something better to do, he straightened the chair at his desk; it was already in a perfect line, so then he had to move it back to its original position immediately.

‘I have told you before about living with my aunt.’

‘Yes. She sounds like a vile woman.’

‘She was. She had us all on edge. I thought if I kept things clean and tidy I would somehow avoid punishment. It is a habit I have not been able to break, no matter that it has been over ten years since I lived with her.’ He brushed some non-existent dust off a shelf near him.

‘I have found it helps to keep my mind clear if there is no clutter.’

‘You would not enjoy my room then. I am not a sloven, but I tend to leave books I am reading about the place.’

He pretended to shudder, even though he would not be thinking of mess should he ever find himself in her bedroom. ‘It does not bear thinking about,’ he teased. ‘Also, you read more than one book at a time? What sort of heathen are you?’

‘One that is easily bored, I am afraid. Emily keeps lending me history books, assuring me, despite prior evidence to the contrary, that each one will transport me to long-forgotten lands. Mostly they send me to sleep.’

Edward laughed, tension seeping from his shoulders. ‘Yes, she does seem to have a passion for books others find beyond tedious.’

They lapsed into silence. She fidgeted with her dress, smoothing her hands over it.

A true gentleman would ask her what she was doing here.

No, a true gentleman would not have let her enter the room in the first place, but as he wanted to be alone with her whenever possible, he was not going to ask her to leave.

‘I…’ she began. ‘I wanted to do something for you, but now I am sitting here, I think I have been too presumptuous.’

She fell silent again as his mind whirled with possibilities.

He scrunched his eyes shut, as the more lurid thoughts came to mind, reminding himself she was innocent and, even if she wasn’t, he was not going to take things as far as his body craved.

He rubbed his thumb over his mouth, the gesture grounding him. ‘What was it?’ he asked.

‘You said at dinner, and you have mentioned it a few times, that you have trouble sleeping. And over the last few days I have noticed the purple shadows under your eyes have become darker.’

‘I am finding it harder than normal to fall asleep.’

She cleared her throat, smoothed her dress again and then looked him square in the eye. ‘I want to help you. I think I can.’

‘How?’

‘Ah,’ she said, standing abruptly. ‘It seems very foolish now I am here. You are a grown man, only…’

‘Only?’

‘You sounded so bleak at dinner and I thought this might be a way to repay some of the kindness you have shown me. I have had some success, well, lots of success really. It’s never failed, and I had this bright idea I could help you, but it’s laughable really because…

because as I said, you are a grown man.’

It would help if she sent all her suitors away and asked him to kiss her again.

That would be the biggest help of all, but he did not say that.

‘I go through periods where I do not sleep well. The more tired I become, the worse the problem. I do not understand it. You would think my body would want to switch off but no…’

‘Then perhaps we could try…’ She waved her hand in a circular motion like the gesture explained what she meant.

‘I am willing to attempt anything at this stage.’

She nodded briskly. ‘Good. Fine. Let us try it then.’ She clasped her hands in front of herself and looked at him as if expecting him to do something.

‘Try what exactly?’

‘Oh, right, of course.’ Colour flooded her skin, sending her a deep red. The urge to rest his cheek against hers was almost overwhelming. ‘You need to be ready for bed.’

‘What?’ That distracted him from his unwanted thoughts.

‘You cannot sleep standing there.’

‘Well, we certainly cannot be in my bedroom together.’

Something about that made her flinch, but he wasn’t sure whether it was what he said or the sharpness of his delivery.

‘I am not trying to seduce you. The kissing was not a trend I was hoping to continue in order to somehow trick you into marriage.’

It was damned hot in his sitting room; he glanced at the fireplace, half expecting to see flames, but the grate was empty, swept clean as per his preference. ‘I was not implying you were.’ If only.

If he thought she might be interested, he might ask.

The thought brought him up short. It was one thing to desire their house guest, quite another to think of her as a potential wife.

He stared at her as his world rearranged itself.

Could she be it for him? Was that why his mood had been so foul over the last few days, not just because he was physically jealous of the thought of another man laying claim to her but because he wanted her for himself and not for a few fumbled kisses in a music room but for life?

‘I trust you with my virtue,’ he said, softer this time, and was rewarded with the roll of her eyes and the softening of her lips. ‘But you should appreciate that I do not wear clothes to bed.’

‘Not even in winter?’ Her eyes were almost comically wide, as if she could not fathom such a thing.