Free The Governess Was Wanton by Julia Kelly Page B

fur wrap a little higher on her shoulders and stepped out the front door Warthing held open.
    Lord Asten, however, hung back. “Thank you.”
    She started in surprise. “Whatever for?”
    â€œWhatever it was you said to Eleanora to make her agree to come to this ball and all the parties since you spoke to her. I don’t know what you did, but she’s beginning to act more like herself than she has in a long time. What’s your secret?”
    â€œIf I told you, you wouldn’t need me anymore.”
    â€œI wouldn’t say that.” His eyes darkened as he said it—or did she just imagine it? Either way, something sparked deep inside her, and for one crazy moment all she wanted to do was grip the man by his loose collar and drag his lips to hers.
    â€œGo,” she managed to say, crossing her arms tightly over her chest to keep herself from reaching for him. “You said yourself you’ll be late.”
    He held her gaze a moment longer and then dipped his head. “Good night, Miss Woodward. I hope your evening is as pleasant as you expect.”
    She watched him stride off and down the steps to the waiting carriage, her hand on her stomach, which was already doing uncomfortable somersaults.
    â€œWould you like me to order one of the chambermaids to light the fire in the music room so that you may use the pianoforte?” asked Warthing as he shut the door.
    â€œActually,” she said, “I think I’ll retire to my room. I have a touch of a headache.”
    The man gave her a little nod and walked off down the hall to do whatever it is a butler does when supper has been served and the master is out of the house.
    Mary put her hand on the banister and began her slow climb up the stairs until she was out of sight. Then she bounded up them, ripped open the door to her room, and threw on a cloak. She sent up a little prayer that the night wouldn’t end in disaster, and then, careful to listen for the footsteps of another, stole down the back stairs and out the abandoned kitchen. Twenty minutes later, she was knocking on Elizabeth’s front door, the hood of her cloak pulled up to obscure her features, like a thief in the night.
    Her hands shook a little with excitement as the door swung open to reveal Elizabeth’s housekeeper, Mrs. Mitchell. “Miss Woodward! What are you doing out there in the dark? Come in, come in.”
    The woman bustled about her as Mary unclasped her cloak. She brushed her hands over her deep-green wool dress, knowing that soon it would be replaced with a gown of the finest silk brocade she’d ever felt.
    â€œYou’re here!” Elizabeth called out from the head of the stairs.
    Jane poked her head around the corner of the corridor. “Oh good, she’s finally here.”
    â€œI had to wait for the earl and his daughter to leave before I could slip out,” Mary said as she reached the top of the stairs.
    â€œWe thought you might get scared,” said Jane.
    â€œWhy would I be scared?” she asked with more bravado than she felt.
    â€œBecause you’re about to dupe every family of good name in London,” Elizabeth said cheerfully.
    She shook her head. “Thank you for reminding me. Let’s get this over with before I do lose my nerve.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” said Jane, linking her arm through Mary’s. “When we’re done with you, no one will ever know that you’re not a duchess.”
    Elizabeth took her other arm as they began to move down the corridor. “All we ask in return is that you tell us every little detail about it.”
    â€œOf course,” she said.
    Ahead of them, Elizabeth’s husband, Edward, poked his head out of his study. “I thought I heard voices out here.”
    â€œHello, my love,” Elizabeth called out. “How is the article coming along?”
    â€œWell enough.” He looked at the three of them in turn and