Capturing the Governess’s Heart by Sally Forbes

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Emma wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep at Dalwater that night. All that had happened earlier at the dinner table had ruined the duke's night, too.

 

It was well after midnight, but he could not rest, his anger at his mother and Lady Beatrice still bubbling inside him. How could she have been so rude to Miss Emma? And what did his mother think she was doing, springing the arrival of the Irrisolls on him like that?

 

How in the world can she believe I would ever marry such an unkind woman? He punched his pillow once more in rage. It’s time I had a serious talk with Mother, to make her understand once and for all that I intend to make my own decisions about who and when I marry, without her interference. Besides, I don’t find Lady Beatrice at all attractive, despite her fine clothes and jewels, and she is spoilt and self-centered. I don’t understand why mother cannot see all this, he thought, wondering especially why the dowager seemed so set on making lady Beatrice his wife.

 

“No!” he told the room, “It will not happen!” He shook his head furiously as he threw off the covers and got out of bed. Signing deeply, he crossed to a window to stare out at the night. Sometimes, just looking at the night sky and the expanse of stars soothed his soul when he was troubled.

 

The moon was bright as he peered out, and he was surprised to see a lone figure sitting out there by the lawn on one of the stone benches. They were sitting with their back to him, and, though the moon illuminated the figure, there were still shadows enough to disguise the person’s identity.

 

 

 

But something in the slender form and its resting attitude hinted an answer. Is that ... Miss Emma? He felt a heavy thud in his heart upon seeing her sitting alone, outside at that late hour. What could she be doing? Recalling the unpleasant incident at dinner and the fact she had claimed a headache, set him worrying. I must go down and speak to her.

 

 

 

Hurriedly, he threw on shirt and trousers and slipped out of his chambers, praying he would not to be seen by anyone as he made his way downstairs and out of the front door. On his way out, he wondered if he was acting wisely. His mere presence could compromise her if they should be seen together unchaperoned.

 

But he couldn’t help himself. He simply had to apologize —after all, he had insisted she dine with them that evening, although at the time he’d had no idea of what the dowager was planning. Yes, it was a risk being alone with her, especially at such a time, but frankly, he no longer cared.

 

He must make sure Miss Emma was alright. And if they were caught and she was compromised, well, then … damn it all … he would marry her! The thought made him dizzy, though he wasn’t sure why.

 

Emma felt comforted sitting on the bench in the cool moonlight. She was deep in thought, turning over in her troubled mind all that had happened since dinner earlier that evening. However, she admitted to herself after some time that the focus of her thoughts was the duke.

 

She recalled once more his trying to defend her from Lady Beatrice’s spite at the table. How many noble dukes would have acted so gallantly for a children’s governess? It was yet more proof of his goodness. Unlike Lady Beatrice, Emma reflected, the duke’s good-looks matched his kind nature.

 

Emma was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps and looked around fearfully. When she saw who it was, her posture immediately relaxed. She appeared composed as he took a seat at the other end of the bench.

 

 

 

“Good evening, or should I say good night, Miss Emma? I hope I’m not disturbing you. I saw you sitting out here and wanted to see how you were.” Robert said gently, examining her features for sign of distress.

 

“I am well, Your Grace. But I could not sleep, and I thought the tranquil atmosphere out here might help.”

 

“I want to apologize to you about what happened earlier at dinner. That was such unnecessary rudeness from Lady Beatrice. Please believe me when I say that I had no idea they had been invited to join us.”

 

“None of it was your fault, Your Grace,” Emma replied, smiling at him.

 

They regarded each other in silence for several moments. Suddenly, he reached over and took Emma’s hand gently in his. She did not remove it.

 

“You know, Miss Emma … Emma … you're special, and I'm very happy having you as the children governess. I haven't made a lot of wise decisions in the past, it’s true, but choosing you was one of the few I have made," Robert said softly. He reached to touch her cheek, and she trembled.

 

“Thank you ... You Grace, I am flattered by your kind words,” she said shyly.

 

“Please, can we go back to Robert and Emma? “He pleaded, and she nodded gently.

 

“If you wish… Robert.”

 

“There are so many wonderful things about you, Emma. You are easy to talk to, and the children and I enjoy being around you. There's beauty in being a good listener, you know. You are someone who seeks to make connections with others and brings joy to them by inviting them to see things from new perspectives.”

 

“Thank you again," she said, smiling. He felt her squeeze his hand gently and felt encouraged. She has such beautiful, kind eyes, he thought, falling into their green depths again. She has a tranquil sort of beauty that is made to last.

 

He brushed her cheek with his fingertips once more and moved closer, feeling an irresistible force drawing them together. She leaned against his caressing hand, a tender look in her eyes. Again, she trembled as their gazes locked, and they moved almost imperceptibly slowly toward one another.

 

“You're very beautiful,” he breathed helplessly. The world was shrinking until all he wanted to see was her face.  She could not hide her emotions from him. He could see them on her innocent face. In her eyes, he saw a passion that answered his own. His body filled with warmth as he took her in his arms, her eyes closed as she offered up her lips to his.

 

Then, a sharp sound made them spring apart, both casting around in alarm for its source. They saw nothing, and the sound did not repeat. Even so, the magical moment was broken. Robert stood up, feeling awkward. He cleared his throat.

 

“I had better leave you, Emma. I wish I dared stay, but … well, forgive me. I hope you will sleep now and that I shall see you on the morrow.”

 

“Of course, on the morrow,” she said, sorrow in her voice. He left her there, wondering at it, as he slipped back into the house unseen, he hoped. He cursed whatever had parted them just as he had been about to kiss those invitingly soft lips. There was no denying it to himself; Miss Emma Fletcher bewitched him, and he did not know what he would do about it.