Page 35 of The Governess and the Rogue

As she returned to her chair, he rose again with the aid of his cane, ever the gentleman, only resuming his seat once Bea was seated herself.

“What was that about?” he asked.

Bea picked up her fork. “Friendship.”

* * *

A short time later, alone with Pearl in their tiny cabin, Bea offered her friend a disjointed (and, admittedly, not entirely truthful) explanation of events. “So, you see,” she concluded at length, “it wasn’t my idea to commandeer you as my lady’s maid. I would never have suggested⁠—”

“Then the ladies were speaking truly?” Pearl asked. “You are to marry Colonel Beresford?”

She hadn’t seemed to have heard any of Bea’s excuses. She’d stopped listening from the moment Bea had told her that she and Jack were engaged. Anything beyond that astounding fact had instantly become superfluous to the conversation.

Bea didn’t blame her friend. In truth, Bea was still rather stunned by this morning’s turn of events herself. One moment she’d been alone, staring down Mrs. Dimsdale, and what promised to be a very bleak future. The next she’d had Jack at her side.

He’d be at her side still if she hadn’t begged for a moment alone to speak to Pearl. Jack had agreed to it on the condition that Bea first accompany him to his cabin. Yet another reminder of the real reason for her elevation from lowly servant to much-envied fiancée. She wasn’t his sweetheart, nor even his friend. She was a living, breathing barrier between Jack and those who would attempt to encroach upon him.

“But where did you—how did you—” Pearl faced Bea, her brows beetled as she attempted to piece the unlikely romance together. “It wasn’t on those moonlight rambles of yours above deck?”

Bea sank down on the edge of her berth. She hated lying to her friend, but saw no way around it. “It was,” she said. “We’ve met most every night since leaving port.”

Pearl’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You never said!”

“I could hardly do so,” Bea replied.

“But I thought—” Pearl shook her head. “It’s been less than a week. How could you⁠—?”

“I didn’t intend to.”

“Everyone intends to, where Colonel Beresford is concerned. They can’t help themselves.”

Bea didn’t like what Pearl was implying. “I hope you don’t class me with the Farradays and their like.”

Pearl snorted. “You’re a woman, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t pursue him. And I didn’t—I would never—become so exalted in my opinion of myself that I’d ask a friend to be my servant.”

“Why not? It’s preferable to minding those evil children. And we’re to have a stateroom?” Pearl brightened. “The rest of the voyage will fly by.”

Some of the tension in Bea’s shoulders eased. She’d been so anxious over Pearl’s reaction. “Then . . . you don’t mind it?”

“I shall relish it,” Pearl declared. “Even if I must return to Mrs. Rawson when we arrive in France.” She sank down beside Bea on the berth. Her expression was determined. “You’ll still require a lady’s maid once you disembark at Southampton.”

Bea dropped her gaze. What could she say? That she’d no more require a maid once she was in England than she would require a wedding dress or a trousseau?

“I don’t mean myself,” Pearl said. “I’ve been with Mrs. Rawson too long to abandon her for another position. But you can’t meet Colonel Beresford’s family, or put up at one of their houses, without someone to attend you. What do you mean to do⁠—”

“I shall cross that bridge when I come to it,” Bea interrupted. “Until then, I must take each day as it comes.”

And pray that she and Jack could get through them all without anyone discovering their deception, she added silently.

Chapter Twelve

Jack leaned back in his chair as he examined the cards in his hand. Bea was seated across from him at a small, felt-topped table in the ship’s gaming saloon, his half-hearted opponent in a rubber of picquet. He told himself that he didn’t mind her lack of enthusiasm. Her presence had saved him from being pressed into a foursome with the Farradays and Mrs. Rawson. That alone was enough to earn Bea his endless gratitude.

“This engagement isn’t half bad,” he remarked.

Bea glanced up at him from over her own hand of cards. “Naturally you would say that now.”