Page 63 of The Governess and the Rogue

“I’m not a complete invalid.”

She gripped his arm. “I wasn’t implying that you were. Only that, if you fell⁠—”

“I won’t,” he said. “Anyway, we’re nearly there. Do you see that fallen tree?”

Bea followed his gaze to an old, dried-out trunk at the edge of the water. It was hardly a park bench, but it would do. Jack escorted her to it. He remained standing until she seated herself. Only then did he join her.

“Your sister-in-law’s maid will be dismayed not to find me in my room when she comes to wake me,” Bea remarked.

“I doubt it,” Jack said. “My family has so far seemed to predict my every move.”

Her eyes jerked to his in swift alarm. “Don’t say they’ve already guessed that our engagement is a false one?”

“No. Not exactly.” Jack pushed his fingers through his hair. The thick blond strands shone like golden wheat in the newly risen sun. “But my brother doesn’t entirely believe it’s real either.”

Bea waited for him to explain, her stomach tense.

“I have a reputation, you see.” He paused. “Had a reputation.”

“For larking about?”

His brows notched. “Someone’s already told you?”

“Mrs. Rawson mentioned it on the Pera,” Bea reminded him. “And Hannah referenced it last night.”

Jack frowned. “Yes, well… It isn’t true any longer.” He paused, adding, “And they were never larks. I merely enjoyed risks. Dares, contests, and the like. My little sister is the same. We used to set challenges for each other when we were younger, much to James’s disapproval. He was constantly after me to behave in a more dignified manner. Since joining the army, I like to think I have. I’ve distinguished myself. Moved through the ranks. Proved that James is wrong. That I’m not a reckless idiot, incapable of exercising sound judgment.”

“I see,” Bea murmured.

“Do you?” Jack asked. “Do you really, Bea?”

“When he met us on the docks yesterday, you were afraid you’d be proving him right.”

“I would have been, had I told him that you and I were no longer engaged. Or worse, that we’d never been engaged in the first place. That’s why I said what I said. I’m sorry I didn’t consult with you first. I know it wasn’t part of our agreement. But⁠—”

“I don’t want to lie to your family, Jack,”

“I know,” he said. “Nor do I.”

A breeze drifted over the banks, making the wildflowers quiver. Bea gazed at them for a long moment, her spirits sinking as low as they’d ever been. It wasn’t right to be here with Jack, in a place so beautiful and remote, so exceedingly romantic, discussing something as bleak as their imminent parting.

But one had to face facts.

“What if I left now?” she suggested. “Quiet-like, without any fuss. Just slip away to the hotel and…when I’m gone…you could simply tell them the truth?”

Jack’s ice-gray eyes were unusually grave. “Face James and Hannah on my own, you mean?”

A flicker of guilt took Bea unaware. She was abandoning him. It was cowardly. Disloyal.

Yet, it was his lie that had brought them here, not hers. She’d been ready to walk away at the docks. Any other woman in her position would do the same. It wasn’t a matter of loyalty. It was a question of self-preservation.

“Yes,” she replied.

“But it won’t just be them any longer,” Jack said. “That’s what I came to tell you this morning. When James and I spoke last night, he informed me that my other relations are expected today. My brother, Ivo, and his wife, Meg. My sister, Kate, and her husband, Charles. All of their children. Not to mention my parents, who will be arriving by Saturday. It’s to be something of a family party.”

The blood left Bea’s face. She recalled everything Mrs. Rawson and the Farradays had told her about the Beresfords. About their wealth and pedigree. About their fashionableness and extraordinary good looks. It was one thing to meet Jack’s oldest brother and his wife, but to confront the family entire? The mere prospect of it was enough to send a chill down Bea’s spine.

“It was Hannah’s idea, apparently,” Jack said grimly. “Hers and Meg’s, sparked by that dratted wire Mrs. Rawson sent them. They’ve already got it planned. A week-long celebration to welcome home the injured hero, culminating in a ball, with all the village in attendance.” He paused. “There’s only one problem.”