Page 80 of The Governess and the Brooding Duke
She finished her tea, and then spent the rest of the day until bedtime a tangle of nerves.
Would she really do this?
Yes. She would. Because here she was going to be brave.
For herself.
And no one else.
She was going to grab hold of what she could have.
And relish the glory of the gift.
For she knew what it was like to be alone.
And tonight... She wouldn’t be.
Chapter Fifteen
Would she come? And why did he feel so utterly beset by the question. He was a man, a man who could go out and get satisfaction whenever he wished. He could go to any brothel in London and have a whore. One who would do everything that he wanted and more. Why was he tempting himself—tempting himself to step outside the boundaries of what he knew was right and good?
They’d both spoken of fathers that had wounded them. That had wounded everyone around them. And was he any different? In pursuing this thing with her, was he any different?
He wanted what his flesh wanted, and he wanted it at the exclusion of all else.
She was his governess.
She had given something to the children, he could see it. A spark of happiness that had not been there before, and he had been there to witness it. Because she had given him something else. A connection.
She had brought him into a new place with the babe, and even if it was not one he wholly embraced yet, he was ready to make new steps.
Could he compromise all of it? She may well want to leave after this.
If she didn’t come tonight, she might have packed her bags and run away.
The proposition to someone who he had this much power over... It was not who he was. It was not who he had ever been before.
Because he respected far too much the pain that a man in his position could cause. The ways in which the people around him felt they could not say no. And if she came to the door tonight, would that be the case?
Would it be because she did not think she could refuse him?
He would be sure. He would be certain.
Her position was not dependent upon her sharing her body with him. But he damn well wished she would.
He waited.
The clock ticked on.
He would deserve for her to not come.
It would be so wholly in the character of Miss Mary Smith.
To deny him. To not care that he was a duke, to not care that she earned her money at his behest.
Perhaps he shouldn’t worry about her feeling forced into anything. She argued with him with the freedom that no one else had ever evinced.
It was a truly spectacular thing.
