Page 43 of One Night of Surrender
Envy snaked through Val’s veins.He’d never felt such optimism, such happiness, and he never would.
Folding the muslin, he held it to his chest as he lay back and closed his eyes.He might not have a future, but he had the past.And tonight, his past had become even more remarkable.
Right now he couldn’t decide if that made him happy or sad.
It was impossible to completely avoid the dowager and Viola, but over the past two days, Isabelle had done her best.When she wasn’t working at the library, she was there “familiarizing” herself with the inventory.Or so she told Mr.Dangerfield.Not that he minded having her there.
Staying with the dowager had already been awkward, but after what had happened with Val on Monday night at the Wicked Duke, it was almost untenable.
Happened?
That made it sound as if it was something she hadn’t been able to control.Rain happened.Spilled tea happened.Running into your one-time lover in his house while you were working as a governess happened.But rekindling that relationship, even if only for one night, wasn’t something thathappened.That was something one must choose.
And Isabelle had chosen it.Furthermore, just as with the first time, she refused to regret it.Oh, sheshould, just as she should have the first time, but contrition had never been her strong suit.
The wind was cold as she made her way across the square to the dowager’s house.A footman opened the door, and she hurried inside, shivering.
“Mrs.Cortland, there is a letter for you,” the dowager announced from the library.
Isabelle gave her cloak, hat, and gloves to the footman and took a deep breath before going in to face Val’s grandmother.
She sat in her favorite chair next to the fireplace, a cup of tea—nearly empty now—beside her on a small table.“It’s over on the table there.I was going to have it delivered to your room, but hoped you’d return so you could open it with me.”
Isabelle went to the table and picked up the missive.It was marked from Oxford.Her pulse sped as she opened the parchment.
It was from Mrs.Featherstone, the headmistress of one of the schools she’d written to.Mrs.Featherstone’s School for the Development of Young Ladies was located in Oxford.She’d known Isabelle’s parents, and if Isabelle hadn’t been educated at home, she would have gone there.
Mrs.Featherstone was considering retirement and invited Isabelle to work for her with the potential to take over the school as soon as next January.It was more than Isabelle had hoped for.It was—or it had been—her dream.
Wasn’t it her dream anymore?
She thought of the circulating library and how well it suited her.However, that wasn’t what gave her pause.Frustration raked her from the inside out.Why was she hesitating at all?This was everything she wanted.
Only it wasn’t.It seemed Val was everything she wanted.
And couldn’t have.
“Is it good news?”the dowager asked, startling Isabelle from her dismal thoughts.
“It could be,” Isabelle replied.“There may be a job for me in Oxford at a girls’ school.”
“How splendid.”The dowager sipped from her teacup and set it back down.“I was going to tell you that I may know of a family in need of a governess.They’re in Bath, but I didn’t think you would mind that since you’ve never lived in London before.”
“No, I wouldn’t mind that.”Hadn’t she said distance would solve her problems?She wanted to laugh at her naïveté.Distance wouldn’t solve the ache she had for Val.Time certainly hadn’t.
“I could arrange for you to travel to Bath to meet them,” the dowager offered.
Two possibilities now.Twoopportunitiesto secure her future.Two chances to run away from Val.Not that he was pursuing her.He’d made his relief at not having to marry her quite clear.
But she didn’t want to be a governess anymore.“Thank you, Your Grace, but I think I’d prefer to pursue a position other than governess.”
The dowager cocked her head to the side, and her gaze softened.It was the kindest expression Isabelle had ever seen her wear.“Because of Lord Barkley, I presume.I wish I could tell you that would never happen again, but the plight of governesses is well known.”
Isabellehadn’tbeen thinking of that, but she would have.“It’s more than that, to be honest.I found it difficult to leave the Misses Spelman, and I would have to do it again.”And again.And again.
“I see.Surely you could school yourself to maintain a bit of distance, knowing what you know now.”The tone of the dowager’s voice made it apparent she determined this effort would be of no consequence.She would likely find Isabelle’s preference to avoid having to do that a sign of weakness.
“Even so, I think I’d rather not be a governess again.Because of Lord Barkley.”If that was the reasoning the dowager could accept, that was the reasoning Isabelle would cite.
