The Manor House Governess by C. A. Castle

Author:C. A. Castle [Castle, C. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781639105618
Publisher: Alcove Press
Published: 2023-11-07T07:00:00+00:00

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When the car dropped Bron back at the house, he ran straight to his bedroom, flung himself face-first onto the mattress, his nose stinging from the impact, and yelled into his pillow until his eyes were raw and his throat sore. His insides stirred, full of want and anger. He had miscalculated, and this was the end, the end of whatever it was that had been building between them. The dance, the kiss—it all meant nothing now.

He’d jeopardized his professionalism too, his tact. The very things that had helped to get him this placement at Greenwood in the first place. When they were alone together, he often forgot the true relationship between them, the difference in their position. But the distance between him and Darcy was now greater than ever, a giant fissure. Hierarchies still reigned, and he needed to learn his place. Who was he to pry into Darcy’s life, to ask such questions? Darcy could say whatever it was he wanted, make a mockery of him any time he liked—he’d been naive to think he could talk to his employer’s son in such a way. That was the way of the world. It was just that, for a moment, he’d forgotten.

Was Darcy talking to Mr. Edwards that very instant, discussing his impropriety? Were the next three words he’d hear would be “Pack your bags,” terminating his employment? Who would be the one to deliver it? Not Mr. Edwards, surely? He’d always been so kind to him. And where would he live? He had nowhere else to go.

Oh, how wretched. How cruel. He gasped, feeling the terror of his life—that he was destined to be alone—clinging to his upper belly, that weightless space below the ribs, like a suction. Because, finally, he’d been happy. He could admit that, now that all was lost. It had never occurred to him that this place had slowly started to feel like home, a concept he hadn’t understood until he’d experienced the comfort of these walls. Here he had come to escape the moroseness of his past, where he cared for a little girl almost like a sibling, could look up to a fatherly figure through Mr. Edwards. He had earned this world after having gone so long without. Yes, sometimes he hated it here, and sometimes he thought about what it would’ve been like to have stayed on at St. Mary’s, or to have successfully gained entry to the university, but now he didn’t want to leave. Here he had made a life for himself.

Perhaps if he could only explain himself, maybe he could rectify some of the damage he’d caused. Though, Darcy’s reaction to the photographs only confirmed his suspicions. He was convinced that Darcy and Giovanni had been lovers, and something had gone terribly wrong between them. He dragged himself to the writing desk, grabbed a piece of paper, and mindlessly scribbled down his thoughts, finding the process of handwriting cleansing, an erasure of reality through the creation of something material.

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