Page 47 of The Governess’ Unlikely Suitor (The Dashworth Brothers #2)

T he lodgings Kate settled into were far grander than she’d had in mind; she suspected the Dashworths were contributing to the rent because the price she was paying was suspiciously low.

She did not have the heart to question it.

The duke had agreed on a sum of money to be paid to her while Simon was abroad and he insisted he keep paying that, even though she was no longer living with them.

Not wanting to go back to the likes of Bentswood Street, she was glad to accept their generosity without looking into it in more depth.

There were several bedrooms, one for her, one for Pete and Silas, who were staying with her until their mother got back on her feet, and one for Jane, who had followed her from Glanmore House, muttering how Kate must be a witless fool for choosing to live here and not in the Dashworths’ family home but also refusing all offers to stay there herself.

‘I am your lady’s maid, Miss. I go where you go.’

Kate’s protests she was no lady fell on deaf ears and she was secretly glad.

She suspected the Dashworth hand in this, too, but again, she was not going to protest. She knew she had made the right decision, she had to be independent in order to have her self-respect, but that didn’t mean leaving Glanmore House had been easy, and this helping hand would tide her over until she could get her Home for Disadvantaged Children, as she’d decided to call it, up and running.

She missed her long lunches with Emily where they laughed so hard her sides hurt, missed the pianoforte room and her painful practices, missed the fruit cake that tasted like it had come straight from heaven, missed the daily sessions with Charlotte, whom she had promised to return and see but hadn’t yet.

All of it faded into insignificance in comparison with how she felt about Edward.

She didn’t just ache for his company, she hurt for it.

She turned to him a hundred times a day, to tell him something to make him smile, only to find he wasn’t there.

It was a torture she had brought on herself but one she had decided was necessary.

Men like him did not marry women like her.

She could have been his mistress for a short while and she was sure they would have both enjoyed it.

Then she would have had to watch him marry someone else from the same station as him and it would have killed her.

No, it was far better to have this space away from him, to find out what she was capable of on her own.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t a slight hypocrite, however.

‘Stop fidgeting.’ Jane tugged on her hair, causing her to gasp at the pain.

‘There is no need to torture me. I am exceptionally still.’

‘It is like there are bees in your drawers. If you want to look pretty for him, you at least need me to get this style looking perfect; now stop trying to look out of the window.’

‘I am not trying to look any different from normal.’

‘Of course not,’ said Jane, coming round to the front of her to inspect her handiwork.

‘It is a complete coincidence all of your dresses are piled up on your bed, having been tried on and discarded, and that you have settled on this green one which complements your hair beautifully as well as showing off your…’ Jane’s gaze flickered to Kate’s chest, which was rather ample after months of good food.

‘I think your man will be very happy when he sees you.’

Kate shifted on the chair, glad Jane’s fingers weren’t in her hair any more, and so she could not be reprimanded for the movement. ‘Edward Dashworth is not my man.’

Jane snorted. ‘For an intelligent woman, you are immensely dim sometimes. Put the man out of his misery and agree to marry him, then we can all move back into Glanmore House.’

‘He has not asked me to marry him and, in any case, I would not make a good Society wife. I would be bored out of my mind.’

Jane moved away. ‘The man’s gone for you.

We all knew it on the first day you moved in.

I don’t think he wants a Society wife; I think he wants you.

But if you say you want to live a life of independence, then…

I was going to say well done for having principles but I’ve changed my mind. You’re a nitwit.’

Kate heard the sound of a carriage drawing up outside the window.

Despite herself, she rushed to the glass and peered down to the road.

Her heart skipped several beats as Edward jumped down, his gaze lifting and unerringly seeking hers.

He smiled and raised a hand; a grin spread across her face in response.

‘I do not think I have the strength to start again if it does not work between him and me,’ she said softly, still smiling down at him.

Jane picked up a hanger and began arranging Kate’s dresses once more. ‘I have never faced any sort of heartbreak, Miss, so I can’t say. My best advice is for you not to be a ninnyhammer.’

‘That is not entirely useful, Jane.’

‘You don’t pay me for my advice, Miss. You pay me for my excellent hairstyling, and I can honestly say you are looking particularly beautiful this morning.’

Down in the street below, Edward was reaching for something inside the carriage. Kate didn’t wait to see what it was; instead she turned and hurried down the stairs to greet him.