The Duke of Defiance (The Untouchables #5)(43)
“I’m glad.” She studied him briefly, then stood. He didn’t want her to leave yet. “I think you should talk to Evie about your mother—don’t tell her the specifics, but she should understand why you think it’s best for her to have a limited relationship with her grandmother.”
Bran scrubbed a hand along his jaw. He wasn’t sure how to do that, but she was right that he needed to. “I’ll do that.” He stood and walked around his desk to where she was standing. “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to be Evie’s governess. You’ve already made such a wonderful impression on the household—on us.”
Pink bloomed in her cheeks. She was incredibly lovely. He remembered the pillowy softness of her lips beneath his and the fervent grasp of her hands on his back and neck. The temperature in the room elevated, and he was glad he’d shirked his coat.
“That’s…good.” She pulled her gaze from his and turned toward the door. “I need to get back upstairs.” She quickly fled, leaving Bran to realize he had a very big problem. Yes, they were friends. And yes, they could make this arrangement work. But he still wanted her. And if he was reading her correctly, she wanted him too.
Chapter 10
“So the princes were buried there?” Evie pointed at the White Tower.
“They were, but then they were moved.” Becky scanned the guidebook in her hand. “I can’t believe they were murdered.”
Evie shivered. “Let’s read the part about the Jewel Office again.”
Jo looked over at the White Tower and tried to imagine the two boys but decided she didn’t want to. She’d much rather enjoy this pleasant spring day with Knighton, Evie, and Becky.
They’d made plans to come to the Tower of London and had invited Nora and Titus and their children. Titus had been unable to attend, and Nora had decided that this excursion might be a little too much for Christopher yet. Consequently, Knighton had offered to just bring Becky along. The girls were having a marvelous time, and Jo, as the governess, was delighted to see them reading the guidebook Knighton had purchased for sixpence as soon as they’d arrived.
The girls walked a few feet in front of them, and Knighton noted, “What a dreadful story to include in the guidebook. Don’t they realize children might read it?”
“It’s history,” Jo said, though she agreed with his assessment that it was a bit ghastly. “It’s important for children to learn history, even when it’s ugly.”
“I suppose that’s true. I recall learning all sorts of things about various battles.”
The girls had moved a little farther ahead but still well within sight. Becky turned her head to look at them. A moment later, Evie did the same.
“They look like they’re plotting something,” Knighton said.
Perhaps, but they were five-year-old girls. What could they possibly be up to? “Nonsense, they’re just having fun. I’m glad they have each other.”
“I am too. Becky’s made this transition far more bearable for Evie.” He shot her a warm glance. “As have you.”
Jo didn’t think she’d done all that much. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’ve scarcely done anything.”
He paused and looked at her intently. “You shouldn’t do that.”
She stopped. “Do what?”
“Diminish your talent or your gifts. You’re an exceptional woman.”
She blushed and turned from him to start walking again. He kept doing that—making her blush. He said things to her and looked at her in ways that evoked a heady response. Matthias had never, ever made her feel like that.
He had, however, made her feel worthless, as if she were a grave disappointment. She supposed that was why she balked from praise. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“That’s just it. You don’t have to say anything. Accept who you are.”
She thought she had, but it did seem that she was trying to sort out who she was. She was the vicar’s widow and the duchess’s sister. But who was Jo? Right now she was a governess, and it was the most comfortable she’d felt. With the exception of the way Knighton provoked her. The other day in his office after his mother had left, there’d been several moments when she’d been drawn to him, both from the things he’d revealed about his childhood and from the way he’d looked at her. Then she’d gone and called him handsome, voicing the thought that had vaulted into her head when he’d compared himself to his brothers. She’d immediately wanted to defend the notion that he wasn’t attractive, and she’d done so without thinking of the consequences.
She glanced over at him. “I’ll…try.”
“Good,” he said, looking appeased. “Need I remind you of the critical role you played in hiring the cook yesterday?”
“All I did was ask her to demonstrate something so we could be assured of her skill.” She realized she was doing it again. She had contributed something valuable. “It was a rather good idea, wasn’t it?’
He smiled at her. “Yes. It was brilliant. Not only were we able to test her cooking, we also learned how she worked in the kitchen with the other staff. They liked her immediately.”
This was true. The poor scullery maid who’d been cooking—or trying to, anyway—had practically cried with relief when she realized she wouldn’t have to do it anymore. “I’ve been thinking about Tilly,” Jo said. “She isn’t very happy in the kitchen, and she mentioned to me that she’d been hoping to train to be a maid. You could move her into the open position upstairs and find someone else to assist Mrs. Fletcher.”