‘You were absolutely perfect. But you mentioned how you had never done anything like this, once or twice. Or possibly several hundred times.’
‘I did not. I said nothing.’
His body shook with laughter against hers. ‘I do not think you stopped talking.’
She had no recollection of saying anything of sense at all. She’d been consumed by sensation, incapable of speech. ‘I am sorry.’
‘Do not be. It drove me out of my mind. I have never experienced anything as intense before. And the way you… three times. I think if I had not lost control, there could have been more.’ She felt him shake his head. ‘Your delight made it all the more pleasurable for me. There are no words to explain it, or if there are, my mind has been turned into a jumble, but trust me when I say, nothing, nothing, has ever compared to what just passed between us.’
She smiled, sliding her hands around his waist so she was holding him as tightly as he was her. ‘Are you sure I said things?’
‘Many, many things.’ His body was getting heavy against hers and another surge of triumph shot through her. He was about tofall asleep again and for the second time in one night, she could claim responsibility.
She pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. He mumbled something, but the words were unintelligible and then he was gone, snoring softly into her hair and she knew there would be no marriage for her, for no man was as good as this one.
Chapter Twenty-six
Kate paced the length of her sitting room into her bedroom and back, repeating the process so much she was surprised there was not a track marked out on the wooden floor. Creeping out of Edward’s room in the early hours of the morning had seemed like the sensible option, not wanting to wake him when he was finally sleeping so deeply. Servants had been stirring, but she’d managed to avoid them as she had scurried down the halls, her body deliciously relaxed, her mind whirring.
Her behaviour during the night… well, it was hard for her to comprehend how it had come about let alone how she felt about it all. It had been her genuine intention to help Edward sleep. The dark shadows underneath his eyes seemed to get deeper every day, almost as if someone had punched him in the soft tissue. Her heart had ached whenever she had seen it, and as she looked at him frequently, she noticed it a lot. Working with young children, she’d encountered lots who had claimed they could not sleep and she’d developed her soothing technique over many years. She’d had naïve ideas of gently relaxing Edward and then taking herself off to bed.
In the cool, autumnal light of mid-morning she could not believe she was the same woman who had lain on his bed, legs splayed open to him as she had clasped his length in her hand. It seemed unfathomable to her that they had done that together and that the world hadn’t fundamentally altered.
If they had been two people from the same walks of life, her a lady or him a tutor, she would have expected a marriage proposal today. Two people weren’t intimate like that if there was not some sort of understanding between them, but there was nothing of the sort with her and Edward. Their worlds were so vastly different from one another that she knew a marriage was impossible. The Dashworths might like to pretend she was one of them, but she knew her place and it was not as part of this family. She would not embarrass Edward by expecting an offer. The way he had touched her, the way she had touched him, the press of his skin against hers, the glide of his tongue, they would all be precious memories she would take with her when she left and that was all they would ever be.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see the book she had tucked onto a shelf in her sitting room. Inside it, she had hidden two cards. Both of them had been sent with flowers, both from the same man, both with the same ambiguously threatening message, the wording reminding her, should she ever forget, that she was a mere governess, not destined to grace the ballrooms of the Ton. In her soul, she knew her previous employer was right. Chorley was clever that way, playing on fears that already existed in her mind. Somehow, he must have picked up on her change in popularity during the short time they had attended the same ball. The notes, vague in their wording, had implied that should she try to change her station in life, Chorley would always be there to remind her and the man she took as a husband.
It was the second one, received yesterday, which had pushed her to act last night. Chorley had made her life a misery, grinding her down until her spirits were so flat it was almost impossible to drag herself out of bed in the morning. During those months in the Chorley household, and the ones which had followed, there had not been a shred of joy in her life, no one to dance with, no one to tease her about what an awful musician she was, no one who had caused her heart to flutter. Edward had given her all that and more and her offer to help him had come from the part of her that had wanted to give him something in return, to show him what he meant to her before this all came to an end. And come to an end it must, for so many reasons. If she stayed here, she would become Edward’s mistress. If he wanted that, he would easily be able to persuade her. Another night in his bed and she would be lost. Or else, Emily would convince her to marry one of the many callers and, not wanting to disappoint her, Kate would agree to it. No, it was time to find a way out of the Dashworth house and back to the life she knew well. One not as exciting but more realistic, one in which she kept her heart protected and everyone else safe from a vengeful Chorley.
Decision made, she wandered over to her window, smiling to herself at the memory of her name on Edward’s lips when he had lost control, the guttural growl so different from his normal voice, it had reverberated in her chest. Running her fingertips along her collarbone, she would give a lot to hear that sound again. Lost in her thoughts as she was, it took her a moment to realise what she was seeing, and when she did, her heart stopped, all happy thoughts fleeing instantly. A small figure was scurrying towards Glanmore House, his body rigid, as if bracing himself for an attack at any moment. Everything else faded away as the figure resolved itself, clearly becoming Young Pete. Swearing softly to herself, she realised something must be very wrong for him to be coming to find her.
She pulled on her coat and boots without a thought and rushed out to meet him.
Pete’s thin body sagged in relief at her approach. His skin was pale, not even the brisk wind had put any colour into his cheeks, and her first thought was that something must have happened to Silas. The thought of harm coming to the little boy who was always so thrilled to see her on her visits had tears threatening before she had even reached Pete’s side.
‘What is wrong?’ she asked, not bothering with preamble. He would not be here without reason.
‘It’s Ma.’ He swallowed, his eyes darting to the left where a carriage was being brought round to the front of one of the grand houses. ‘You said to come if I needed help.’
‘Yes, and I meant it. You have done the right thing. Where is Silas?’ By unspoken agreement they began to hurry back the way Pete had come, worry hastening her footsteps.
‘At home. It’s too far for him to walk and I needed to be quick. Ma won’t wake up and the doctor wouldn’t come.’
Panic gripped her chest, making breathing tight and uncomfortable. Already they were a street away from Glanmore House where she should have asked for help. She could still turn back, but the worry that they would not think it worth their while getting involved with the likes of Pete’s mother stopped her. The Dashworths had been nothing but gracious to her, but she didn’t want to stretch their kindness. As a vicar’s daughter, she was genteel enough, but a working-class mother with a penchant for gin might be too much for them. Rubbing her forehead, she tried to ease an ache that was building there. Damn Chorley for showing up now and making her doubt everything once more.
Attempting to cross the road, she hesitated, torn between going forward and turning back. A carriage rumbled by, thedriver shouting at them to get out of the way and she abandoned the idea of returning. With every step they were getting closer to Pete’s mother and she may be able to resolve the problem herself. It was not the first time she had dealt with unpleasant situations herself and it would not be the last.
‘Is she breathing?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
Kate’s bones felt as if they had turned to water. It was hard to keep pushing forward even knowing she would not be dealing with a dead body and two grieving children.
The enormity of what she was doing hit her as she stepped into Pete’s house. Pressing a hand to her face, she was able to stop herself from gagging at the smell, but it was a hard-won battle. She should have done something sooner to get these two boys out of this house, although what form that might take still eluded her.
Pete led her to the back of the house where his mother was lying on a small truckle bed. Silas was curled up under a wooden table, which was covered in stuff Kate couldn’t identify from a quick glance. His large eyes peeked out from his hiding place at their approach.
‘Do you have any coins?’ she asked Pete. She hadn’t stopped to pick up any of her pin money, a grave mistake she was now realising. Her breathing was coming quicker than normal, her mind completely unable to come up with a single idea as to how to deal with this situation, the only thought to get the boys out of the house and away from seeing their mother like this.
