Page 51 of The Governess and the Rogue

An inexplicable flicker of heat crept up Bea’s throat. She ignored it, just as she ignored the scorching memory of their kiss. What else could she do? Nothing could come of it, or of these dratted emotions she’d been feeling.

“Then you must recall what you’d decided to do about this part of the plan,” she said in what she hoped was a matter-of-fact manner.

“The sleeping arrangements,” Jack replied. “Do you know… I can’t say I had a particular plan about those.”

The blush stealing into Bea’s cheeks burned hotter under his regard. “Mrs. Rawson said there was no sleeper carriage, and that we must sleep sitting up.”

“Mrs. Rawson is correct.” His mouth curled with faint amusement. “Have you never slept upright before?”

“I have,” Bea replied, on her dignity.

But never with a gentleman.

And never with a gentleman she’d kissed but a few days before.

“Are you ready to retire now?” he asked.

“I am,” she said.

“You don’t need to change into your dressing gown first? Take your hair down? Make your wish on the evening star?”

“I’ve made my wish, thank you.” It had been many hours since sunset. Bea had spent much of that time staring out the window. “And I’m quite all right as I am.”

“What else do you require for your comfort?” Jack asked. “Shall I summon the porter to bring you a blanket?”

She was amazed he could be so cavalier about it all. “Do you often sleep with ladies in such conditions?”

His smile reached his eyes. “No,” he said. “You’ll be the first.”

Bea didn’t know how to feel about him finding humor in their situation. Not when she couldn’t yet tell if it was at her expense. “I’m warm enough without a blanket,” she said at length.

“What about a pillow?” he asked. “Or will my shoulder suffice?”

She abandoned any hope of concealing her blushes. It was many hours yet until they reached Calais. Try as she might, she couldn’t pretend indifference for every one of them. For one thing, she was too weary. For another⁠—

“Your shoulder will do nicely,” she said.

Jack flashed her a roguish grin. “Not the answer I was expecting, but I’ll take it.”

Bea removed her bonnet, placing it on the empty seat opposite them. Her pulse was quaking, and her mouth suddenly dry. She hadn’t been this close to him since he’d kissed her. But for all the awkwardness of the moment, she really was quite tired.

“If I may?” she asked.

“By all means,” Jack replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Settling herself back in her seat, Bea gingerly rested her head on his shoulder. It was firm beneath her cheek, the soft wool of his overcoat caressing her skin.

Her chest constricted on an unexpected swell of emotion. It had nothing to do with the kiss they’d shared or the butterflies she’d been feeling when she looked at him. It was something else.

Something far more dangerous.

He was so big. So solid.

For the first time in memory, Bea felt safe.

Jack put his arm around her, gathering her into his warmth. “Better?” he asked.

She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. How could anything be better? But it was.