Page 25 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
Obeying the order as given, Caroline sat and watched as Mrs. Willow quickly arranged loaded trays with glistening china, utensils, aromatic food and ordered the servant girls to carry them to the dining room. The cook excused herself and Caroline found herself alone.
Am I a coward? What is the matter? Why can I not see them…well, not them, him—His Grace?
Her forced politeness was even galling her. During the days she forced herself to forget all the interactions with the Duke, but at night the memories of his amused eyes and small smile haunted her. She wanted to see them again but feared any more interactions would make her pay dearly.
“Luv?”
Pressing her lips together, Caroline stood and smiled at Mrs. Willow who had returned. “Forgive me, I was just mired in my thoughts. Thank you for the wonderful meal, Mrs. Willow, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Good evening.”
She felt the cook’s eyes on her as she left without a backward glance and went to her quarters. At least she tried to—her mind was too preoccupied to do so, so she found herself in the library.
It was the perfect place for solitude, a large room with shelves of tomes gathered by generations of the Duke’s forefathers. By memory, she navigated to where the lamps were and lit one. Taking it with her, she perused the shelves and took out a book of old Roman Legends.
“I do not suppose my life trials are any worse than a single one of the—ah!” Caroline had just rounded a corner and collided right into a solid chest. She leapt back in fright only to see the level eyes of the Duke pinning her in her place.
Caroline swallowed with unease as her heartbeat tripled. “Your Grace! I am so sorry. I could have burned you!”
What is he doing in the library at all? Shouldn’t he be having a late meal with his family?
Strong hands braced her, and trapped in his hold, Caroline had no other option but to look squarely at him. “You’ve been avoiding me, Miss Robins. May I ask why?
Caroline shivered and twisted her head away briefly. His gaze was too heavy, encompassing, and only made her guilt churn harder in her stomach. She knew her next words would be impudent but she could not avoid it.
“I would rather not answer, Your Grace.” She tried hard to stop her words from breaking.
I cannot tell you. Please do not make me tell you!
“Have I offended you in any way?” he pressed.
Mutely, Caroline shook her head and could not stop the palpitations in her chest. He was so close and his voice was so deep. Why, oh why had she put herself in this dilemma? She should have just gone to her room as she had proposed to. The book was pressed to her chest with one palm and the other hand was holding the lamp in a bloodless grip.
His stare was digging down inside her, “Miss Robins, I need some—”
I cannot do this!
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” Caroline’s words were rushed. She pressed the book into the Duke’s chest and hurriedly placed the lamp on the nearest horizontal surface she could find, “Please, excuse me.”
With that hasty and hurried excuse, she literally ran from the library and did not stop until she got to her quarters. There, she braced her back on the closed door. “This is too much….my heart cannot take this strain for much longer. I will break here.”
Chapter 11
The shire of Crampton was a lovely countryside community with idyllic scenery, bountiful farmland, hard-working people, and an Earl who was sorely discomfited.
Peregrine did not like what he had seen at his daughter’s house over three weeks ago, the way his son-in-law had held the governess. Worst of all, he had seen the look the governess had given her master, one filled with obsequious adoration and tender emotion. He felt sick to his stomach that a pauper, a beneficiary of her master’s charity, had such unfitting emotion for her betters.
What can I do to fix this?
The woman was comely, Peregrine had to sourly admit that, and educated, but she was as poor as a church mouse! She was a servant, for Christ’s sake. Nothing more than pretty ornamentation on a wall, she was only there to serve a routine purpose.
She’s in love with him, I’m sure of it!If that hussy thinks she can wheedle her way into my daughter’s marriage, that I paid for by agony and blood, she’s wrong. And if that fool thinks he can get away with any infidelity, I will make it my mission to punish him. No one wrongs my daughter for a piece of filth.
“My Lord,” the subtle voice of his butler interrupted his thoughts. “Your breakfast is ready.”
The Earl shifted out of his reverie and nodded absently to his butler, “Thank you, Wesley. I’ll be in the dining room momentarily.”
With the manservant gone, Peregrine considered his options—how exactly was he going to get rid of this troublesome governess without a veritable backlash?
Then he threw his head back and laughed. What was he thinking? What kind of backlash would come from a simple governess? She was a servant, which meant she was removable and replaceable. No one would care if she simply disappeared.
