What Happens in Piccadilly (The Hellion Club Book 3) by Bowlin Chasity

Author:Bowlin, Chasity [Bowlin, Chasity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2020-05-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“I wish we could go to the park,” Charlotte said as she stroked the silken hair of her doll.

Callie smiled sadly. “Perhaps in a day or so when I’m feeling better. Now, put your doll down and practice your letters. Afterward, we’re going to have a story!”

“You’re going to read to us?” The hopeful note in the little girl’s voice was difficult to miss.

“No, Charlotte,” Callie insisted. “You are going to read to me.”

“But I can’t! I don’t know how.”

“I’ll help you,” William offered, looking up from the sums he was laboring over.

“Indeed, you shall. Your reading is coming along nicely,” Callie said, praising the boy. He was so very eager to learn, not for the sake of it, but because he craved praise and attention. It broke her heart a little that he would work so very hard just for a kind word.

Callie rose from the table where she’d been working on additional lessons for them and crossed to the window where she looked outside. Her senses were whirling, her mind overwhelmed with all the things that had occurred. He was on her mind, of course. Lord Winn Hamilton, Earl of Montgomery. He had been since their conversation in the hired hack that morning. If she were honest, she would admit that he’d been on her mind far more frequently and insistently than that. It seemed her every waking thought was either about him or reminding herself of why she should not think about him. The admission that he wished to kiss her again, that he thought of her with what she could only assume was the same frequency with which he crossed her mind was doing nothing to ease her current predicament. Then there was everything else, things that she had shied away from.

Her parents. They hadn’t simply abandoned her because they didn’t want her. Her mother, if what had been said was accurate, had left her there on the steps of the workhouse, anonymous and reasonably safe, while she met her own certain death. And if it was true, and if it could be proven, then she was not simply the unwanted bastard daughter of a duke, but an heiress. It would change everything.

It would render her marriageable.

The sad truth was that, as a governess trained by Effie, her standards and her expectations were at cross purposes. In comportment and education, she was a lady. She viewed herself as one. But as a governess, there were few men of a station that she could wed that would not be considered beneath her or above her. That could all change. But heiress or not, she was still a bastard. She was still a woman who had been a servant. It seemed as if it would only complicate her life further.

“You’re very sad, aren’t you?”

The question had come from William, his small voice tight with concern.

Callie pasted a smile on her face and turned back to him. “I’m not sad. I’m only tired,” she lied. “I’m sure I’ll be better company tomorrow.

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