excelled in, but he wanted desperately to distract her from those thoughts.
‘Is there anything else you desire?’ he asked her.
She gave a wan smile. ‘I am quite sated. The portions were generous, were they not?’
‘They were indeed,’ he agreed.
He did not know what else to say. Should he ask if she was ready to be alone again? How could he leave her alone after knowing how alone she truly was?
He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘Have you been a governess long, Miss Tilson?’
What a foolish question. She could not be more than twenty or twenty-one, but he did not know what else to ask except about the one thing he knew about her—that she was a governess.
A look of distress flashed over her face. ‘Um. No, not long, sir.’
Why the distress? He was trying to distract her.
‘Then your last position was your first as a governess?’ He seemed to remember that from the letters from the agency he and his housekeeper had used to fill the position.
Her eyes darted. ‘Yes.’ She took a breath. ‘My first of any consequence, that is.’
‘And...’ This was not going well at all. ‘Why did you leave?’
She blinked rapidly. ‘Not for any bad reason, sir. I was not discharged, if that is what you are asking.’
That was not what he meant. ‘No. I was merely curious.’ Though it was not curiosity, just his clumsy attempt at conversation. He took another gulp of his ale. ‘No other reason. I wondered what your life was like before. What the previous family was like. How many children were in your charge. That is all.’
She leaned forward with an earnest expression. ‘Are you having second thoughts about hiring me? Because I would hope you would not judge me by these past two days. Or by my—my forward behaviour at this meal—’
Forward behaviour?
‘Please give me the chance to show—to show what I can do,’ she pleaded.
He gripped his tankard of ale. ‘Miss Tilson, I am not having second thoughts. Rest easy on that matter. You remain distressed about the shipwreck. I understand that. Distraction helps at such times.’
She sat back. ‘Oh.’
He attempted a smile. ‘Shall we talk about something else?’
She shifted in her chair. ‘Perhaps I ought to retire to my room.’
‘As you wish.’ He felt as if he’d driven her away, which was not at all what he’d intended.
Another reason he should have remained a soldier. Conversing with his fellow soldiers was not so fraught with peril.
He stood and helped her out of her chair.
When they walked through the tavern again, it was no less full of life. There were still men and women laughing and drinking away whatever their cares might be. He envied them. He had not imbibed nearly enough drink to drown his emotions this night.
The innkeeper greeted them when they walked back into the hall. ‘I hope your meal was satisfactory.’
Miss Tilson replied before Garret opened his mouth. ‘Thank you, sir. It was very satisfying.’ Then she shifted her gaze to him as if he might object to her speaking.
As they approached the stairway, Garret remembered the innkeeper’s offer of a maid. ‘Would you like the maid to attend you now?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she replied. ‘A maid now. Or as soon as it is convenient.’ She glanced back at the innkeeper.
The man spoke up. ‘I will send someone directly, miss.’
Garret followed her up the stairs and escorted her to her door. She took a key from her pocket and he opened his hand. She gave him the key and he unlocked the door. In the open doorway she turned to face him.
He was quite aware of how close he stood to her and how the soft light of the hall lamps made her skin glow and her eyes darken.
‘I’ll arrange for the maid to wake you in time to leave tomorrow,’ he managed to say.
Her voice turned raspy. ‘Thank you, sir. For eating your meal with me.’
He lowered his voice, too. ‘I hope it eased matters for you.’
Her eyes softened. ‘Much better than being alone.’
That seemed faint praise.
She affected him more than he wished to admit. His arms itched to hold her.
To comfort her, that was all. Merely comfort her. He had no business acting upon any other temptation, although it struck him how easily it could be done. She could not refuse him, could she? She had nothing but the position of governess that was entirely in his control.
No. He would not touch her.
Oh. And he was betrothed. He’d forgotten about that.
He stepped back. ‘My room is across the hall. Knock on the door if you need me—if you need anything. Otherwise, sleep well, Miss Tilson.’
She lowered her head and curtsied. ‘You, as well, sir,’ she replied dutifully.
She turned and entered the room, closing the door behind her. The key sounded in the lock.
Garret stared at the closed door for a moment before heading back to the stairway and returning to the tavern for something stronger than ale.
The next day Garret rose early, ignoring the pounding in his head from too many glasses of a rather bad brandy. He sought out the innkeeper and arranged for a man to ride ahead to Preston on a specific errand.
When Miss Tilson was ready, he arranged for breakfast in the private dining parlour. The sun shone through the parlour window, lighting her face with its dark circles under the eyes. Her skin was nearly as pale as his first sight of her abed in Moelfre.
He frowned. ‘I fear you did not sleep well, Miss Tilson.’
She blushed, which at least gave her some colour. ‘Not very well.’
‘Were you troubled by dreams?’ Nightmares followed battles. Why not shipwrecks?
She glanced at him in surprise. ‘I was. I dreamed of the water.’
Poor girl.
‘You won’t always have the dreams,’ he reassured her.
She nibbled on toasted bread and jam. He ate a piece of ham and racked his throbbing brain for some way to make this trip less unpleasant
