He did not respond with words, just a grateful smile before turning back to focus on his son.
She lingered in the doorway, taking in the scene. Her heart swelled, her chest grew tight, and a tear dripped down her cheek. It could never be… it was foolish to even consider… she was only going to hurt herself…
Do I care? I know that I should. I know that it makes all the difference. But when he looks at me that way, we are not duke and governess, but something else… even if it makes no sense. Even if it can never possibly be…
“Good night,” she said softly, just low enough that he could not hear. A final gaze at the man who she was starting to fall for, a gentle smile on her lips, and she turned and left him with his son.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“The young prince was confused as he stumbled into the wayward hut. Where, from outside, it had looked dilapidated and even abandoned, the inside was magnificent to behold. Polished timber. Plush furniture. Richly painted walls and artistry. And that wasn’t to mention the smell of something divine bubbling away in the kitchen. As for the reason for this? Why, it had everything to do with the witch.
Alistair had the book open on his lap, and he read from it with a deep and commanding voice that he hoped was filled with gravitas. He was not much of an actor, but in this instance, he felt that he was doing a rather good job.
“Who are you who dares to disturb my home?”Miss Norleigh had the same book open to read from, but she was doing so on her feet and standing back in the room. What was more, she read her part with a strange accent, no doubt in an effort to imitate the witch.
“What was that?” Alistair looked up from the book.
“What was what?”
“That voice,” he chuckled. “Is that an accent?”
“I…” Miss Norleigh grimaced. “I was trying to sound wicked and evil.”
He laughed. “You sounded like you had a cold.”
“I did not!”
“I liked it.” Hugh lay in bed, and he wore a smile on his face that shone even brighter than the midday sun.
“See!” Miss Norleigh put her hands on her hips and widened her eyes at Alistair. “It was good.”
Alistair rolled his eyes, chuckling all the while. “If you say so…”
“Not just me,” she defended. “Hugh, also. And seeing as he is the sick one, his opinion is all that matters.”
Alistair cleared his throat and went back to the book. This time, it was his turn to read the part of the prince, and he deepened his voice to achieve the effect.“I meant no offense. But I was lost, and I stumbled upon this hut by pure chance.”
Miss Norleigh snorted. “And he mocks my accent…”
“I did not do an accent,” Alistair protested. “I deepened my voice, for effect. It was princely. Some might even say charming.”
“It sounded as if you had a half-chewed potato stuck in your throat.”
Hugh burst into laughter.
Alistair looked flatly between them. “I will remind you that it was your suggestion that we do this. I was happy to read it as normal.”
“Oh, where is the fun in that?” Miss Norleigh said.
“Don’t stop.” Hugh looked from Alistair to Miss Norleigh, excitement brimming behind his eyes. He was still sick, still weak, but he looked as strong as he had in days. “Pl – please. I like it.” Then, he pouted and started to cough… although Alistair suspected that was just to garner sympathy.
Even if it was forced, the effect was the same, and Alistair sighed as he bent his head back over his book, preparing to continue reading his story.
And yes, that included the so-called accent that he put on.
“Please, if you might aid me in my travels, that would be greatly appreciated.”He read.
“And why should I do such a thing?”Miss Norleigh sneered wickedly.“I ought to boil your bones and hang you on my wall!”
