Page 14 of Captivating the Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 5)

Perhaps she was being a coward, but sometimes the way he studied her was terrifying. It was only a matter of time before he recognized her, and the less time spent in his company, the better.

When she had left London, there had been talk that her father had a woman working with him, and the authorities had naturally turned toward her. She’d managed to get through one interview without them hauling her off to Newgate, but it would have been a matter of time before they came back again, asking more questions.

That was when she’d fled, thanks to Lady Franklin.

Aside from the casual reference Lord Hawkins had made the other night to her father being killed, she knew no more than she had when she’d left. She would love to question Lord Hawkins, find out if they were still looking for an accomplice, and how her father had died.

She had loved her father dearly and had always felt cherished by him. In a weak, drunken moment, he’d admitted that his funds were too low to give her a decent come-out, and that was why he’d gotten involved in “despicable matters,” as he had described it to her.

Appalled at the idea that

he had sold out his country for her, she’d lashed out at him, and, unfortunately, that had been the last time she’d seen him.

Aside from her concern about Lord Hawkins recognizing her were the strange feelings he aroused in her. She’d never felt this way before, and it was quite disconcerting. When he was near, the sun shone brighter, the air smelled cleaner, colors were deeper, and she was more alive. She snorted. That was ridiculous.

In any event, Lord Hawkins was awaiting her, and she had not sent a note, so she took one last look in the mirror, straightened her bonnet, and picking up her gloves, left the house.

“Good afternoon, Miss Moore. You look charming, as usual.” He smiled up at her as she descended the steps, and little butterflies swirled around in her middle.

“Good afternoon, my lord. I am looking forward to this trip to the village, and of course, the bookshop.”

“Then we shall be off.” He extended his arm, and she took it as they walked the gravel path and climbed into the waiting carriage.

Hawk tapped on the roof of the carriage, and the driver slowly rolled the vehicle away from the house. “How long have you been in Wycliff’s employ?” Hawkins asked.

Lizzie quickly made a quick calculation to avoid Hawkins figuring out when she’d disappeared from London. “More than a year.”

She turned to study the passing scenery, hoping to discourage conversation about her.

Either by accident or on purpose, he ignored her hint and continued. “Why do I feel like you don’t like talking about yourself?”

She smiled. “Perhaps because I don’t like talking about myself. There is truly nothing of interest about me. I am a vicar’s daughter, and I work as a governess. Surely you have met many women of much more consequence than me.”

“You think there is nothing of interest about you?”

She gave her head a little shake. “Very little, to be sure.”

“I don’t think so.” He leaned back to study her. “I find something intriguing about you, but I cannot put my finger on it.”

Her heart stopped. Oh, why did I agree to this trip with him?

After a few moments, he dipped his head. “Very well. We will dispense with conversation about the very boring governess.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help but return his smile. He was a charming man, no doubt about that. She remembered him, along with his friends, Lord Campbell and Mr. Templeton, from when she had attended ton events. She had never met the Duke of Bedford, who had apparently brought her father back from America.

And killed him.

Bedford had been in the military service when she had been a London debutante. At that time Bedford had been Lord Alex, and his brother, the Marquess of Tavistock, the heir to the Bedford dukedom. Both the Duke and Tavistock must have died to leave Alex the duke.

So many questions raced through her mind. So many things she wanted to know, wanted to ask Hawkins, but her own safety relied on maintaining secrecy.

It was a short ride to the village, and in pleasant weather she had walked the distance, but with rain clouds gathering overhead, she was grateful they had taken the carriage. The vehicle came to a rolling stop at the village green.

Strollers and shoppers were about, hurrying along, most likely wanting to get their errands out of the way before the heavens opened up. She took Hawkins’s arm, and he walked her to the far end of the green and pointed to his left. “I think the bookshop first.”

She was grateful for her gloves and the cloth from his jacket and linen shirt separating their skin. Even with all of that between them, her hand tingled as it rested on his arm. As if he read her mind, he pulled her closer and covered her hand with his. Her heart sped up. This trip with just the two of them was not a good idea.

Had she been acknowledged as a lady and not a governess, she would have had a maid with her as a chaperone. Governesses did not require the same stringent guidelines as ladies hoping to make a successful match had to adhere to. With the way her breathing was now increasing, she understood why chaperones were necessary.

The tinkle of a bell greeted them as they opened the door. She loved the smell of books and inhaled deeply. The shop was larger than most small village bookstores. An older man approached them from the rear of the store.