Page 22 of The Governess and the Rogue

“Trust each other? We scarcely know each other!”

“Nonsense. We’ve had several meaningful conversations in the moonlight. One brush with danger, courtesy of your employer. One heroic moment, courtesy of me. And now we’ve made common cause.”

“I hardly think⁠—”

“Most couples speak for three minutes at the edge of a ballroom and consider themselves very well acquainted indeed, but you and I⁠—”

“Must you refer to us as a couple?”

“A make-believe couple,” he amended.

“Who met… where?” she asked in increasing disbelief. “What conceivable lie could we hope to formulate about how this engagement came to pass?”

“We’d tell the truth,” Jack said. “That we met on this ship, in the moonlight. We’ll say you stole my heart away under the stars. Or vice versa. Who would dare to argue?”

His offhand words were possessed of an insidious power. They settled somewhere in Bea’s heart, warm and deep. A romance in the moonlight, under the stars. A product, perhaps, of all those futile wishes she’d made. Wishes for a better life. A purpose. Something—anything—that would bring her true happiness.

What if this was the answer to those wishes?

But no.

No.

This wasn’t real. This was a deranged jest.

Bea shook her head. “It defies common sense.”

“On the contrary,” Jack said. “It’s logical, as I told you. The only option, really.”

Her gaze returned to his. His ice-gray eyes were blazing with certainty.

Her heart gave another mutinous double thump.

Good heavens. He must be out of his wits. It happened sometimes, didn’t it, with soldiers returning from the wars? Was one supposed to reason with them? Or was it better to humor them?

Bea was at a complete loss.

She swallowed hard. “And if I did agree to this ridiculous scheme… What would happen when we arrive in England?”

“We’d have an amicable parting,” Jack said.

“A broken engagement?”

“By mutual decision, with no acrimony. We would go our separate ways at Southampton with our reputations intact.”

Bea pressed her fingers to her temple. She feared she was losing her mind too. She must be, for Jack’s outrageous plan was starting to sound like a rather appealing remedy to her problem.

But not all of her problems.

“You forget,” she said. “I’ll have lost my reference. Without one⁠—”

“I can get you a reference,” Jack said with unerring confidence. “A position too, if it comes to it.”

She snorted in disbelief.

“I mean it,” he said. “Do you know how many children my brothers and sister have between them? And those children have friends. Somewhere among them there must be one in need of a governess.”

Bea’s hand fell from her brow. She was suddenly unbelievably weary. “It appears you have an answer for every difficulty.”