The Governess's Secret Longing by Elizabeth Beacon

Author:Elizabeth Beacon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-09-09T13:15:04+00:00

Chapter Twelve

‘Practical enough, but you will need this,’ Harry said after he eyed Miss Yelverton through the gloom and wondered how she managed to look beautiful under so much iron grey it would be hard for anyone else to pick her out from the shadows.

‘Thank you,’ she said warily, taking a dubious look at the robust silk scarf he was holding out to her as if she thought it might bite her.

‘To keep the dust at bay; that flimsy thing will not serve once we are going at full stretch,’ he told her and just caught sight of his tiger nodding sagely from his lofty perch, then hunkering into his own muffler even if he was above the worst of the dust the wheels and the horses’ hooves were about to kick up.

‘Oh, then I must thank you for it,’ she said with a dubious look at the grey scarf he had handed her before shrugging her shoulders and undoing her fine one so she could tie his over her mouth and nose.

‘Now we all look like highwaymen,’ he said lightly, and at least they could still talk through the barrier. Why did her eyes look even more unique and astonishing over the top of a muffler that ought to make her a complete quiz to match her iron-grey gown and that steely old pelisse? And as for the bonnet she was now fitting back over her enveloping cap and tightly bound hair and that makeshift mask—he wondered it had the cheek to call itself a hat at all. When he compared it to the frivolous bits of nothing he always seemed to have been buying for his ex-mistress at great expense, that monstrosity looked as if it had escaped the bonfire for far too long.

He forced his gaze away from her and on to the road just visible in the gloom of pre-dawn. He took the exit by the lodge. Then they were out on the King’s Highway with two of his best grooms falling in behind to act as outriders and hopefully make their dash for Owlet Manor look more respectable to her waiting family.

Miss Yelverton sat stiffly against his side at first, as if she thought he might have something catching if she got too close, but acting like a machine-driven governess in an open carriage that would have to go as fast as this one would as soon as it was light enough would be dangerous. He let the curricle swing wider than strictly necessary at the first bend in their way so she had to grab the side of the carriage to stay safe.

At last he felt her relax and let her lithe body sway with the motion of his curricle and felt a bit guilty for deliberately making her shift fluidly with their motion, as he knew very well she could after that dash across his park on Dulcimer what seemed like months ago rather than barely two weeks. He was a bad man,

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