Page 18 of The Governess and the Rogue

Miss Layton’s reply was little more than a whisper. “About my dismissal, I fear.”

Jack was incredulous. “You believe you’re going to be sacked?”

“Undoubtedly.”

He came to stand beside her. “But why?”

“For upsetting the status quo.”

Jack’s temper rose. “For refusing his advances, you mean.”

Miss Layton didn’t look at him. “And for complaining about the children. And failing to manage them. And not being suitably deferential. And yes, for refusing his advances.”

Jack muttered an oath.

Miss Layton flinched. “Must you use such coarse language?”

“If ever there was a time for it,” he said.

She cut him a glance. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you really the son of the Earl of Allendale?”

“I am.”

“Not the one who was very nearly engaged to Miss Faraday?”

Jack’s mouth hitched briefly. “You’ve heard of me?”

Miss Layton didn’t appear amused. Her porcelain blue gaze was all too incisive. “Is that why you’re traveling incognito?”

“The chief reason,” Jack admitted.

She huffed. There was no humor in the sound. “How novel.”

“Is it?”

“To be some glorious creature all the young ladies are hunting?”

He cocked a brow at her. “Glorious?”

Her cheeks turned the exact color of the pale pink musk mallows that dotted the landscape near his childhood home in Somerset. “I only meant⁠—”

“I know what you meant,” he said. “What people like you don’t readily consider is that the hunt is only ever enjoyable for the hunter, not the hunted. Particularly when we’d prefer not to be caught.” He studied her face. She was worryingly pale behind her blush. “Are you all right?”

She managed a faint smile. “One hunted creature to another?”

“If you like.”

“I suppose I am a trifle shaken,” she said. “But I shall be well directly.”

Jack gestured to a pair of deck chairs arranged beneath one of the hanging lamps. Miss Layton wordlessly preceded him there, taking a seat. Jack sat down in the chair across from her, glad to relieve the weight on his leg.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied. “No one can.” The shadow of a smile vanished from her lips. It was replaced with a look of resignation. “If Mrs. Dimsdale sees fit to dismiss me in the morning, I shall have nothing, and nowhere to turn.”

“Come now. We’re nearly to England. It isn’t as if she can toss you over the side and command you to swim the remainder of the way home.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”