How to Claim a Governess’s Heart - Bridget Barton Page 0,77
Miss Thatcher all riled up.
“So you are admitting that you have fallen in love with me?” he asked with a cock of his brow.
“Well, right now, I’m not entirely sure. I rather feel like smacking you!”
“I’m sorry,” he chuckled again. “I know you never meant to sway my decision or enchant me, but I must confess that you have done both, unbeknownst to you.
“From the moment I saw you I knew there was something unique about you. I no sooner wanted to relinquish my responsibilities on Betsy than to remove you from my house. Though you never meant to intentionally, you charmed me and opened my heart to a companionship that I never thought would be possible for me.”
Lord John reached across and took Miss Thatcher’s hand. He stroked it lovingly.
“Soon this will all be done with, my finances will be settled, and we will be married,” he listed off.
“But to your mother, it will seem that I have tricked you and blinded you against her warnings.”
“So what if that is what my mother thinks? We know the truth of the matter. You are my Helena, and nothing short of fairy magic helped us find our way to each other.”
“And you won’t care what your mother will say? What everyone will say? They will all think that I have tricked you.”
“My dear Bridget, in the almost year that you have known me, have I ever once halted going after my desires simply because the Ton likes to gossip?”
“I suppose not.”
“Then I find no reason to deny my heart’s desire and our future happiness simply because other’s tongues cannot resisting chewing the fat.”
Chapter 25
Bridget rushed up the few steps leading to the townhouse’s front door as fast as her skirts would allow her. The day was still early, and little droplets of dew still clung to the leaves and flowers that decorated the front garden of the house.
However, she had a single focus and couldn’t take time to enjoy the early morning beauty all around her. She had risen extra early that day to ensure that she made it in time to the publishing agent.
This was their first attempt to publish Lord John’s book under a pen name. Bridget had feared she would do a good enough job pretending that she was the author of the book, or worse, make a slip-up and give her own name instead of the name she had written to the agent as, Constance Brown.
However, it all had been so easy for her. They had chosen this publishing company for the simple fact that they had published several lady authors in the past. It was most likely they would be more open to taking on another female author than some of the other agencies.
Not only had they been very welcoming to her, they almost seemed proactive to the idea of female writers. When she had stumbled on her own name in the introduction, she feared they would see the deception for what it was.
Instead, the agent simply chuckled and said he understood her mistake.
“I assume you are not truly Constance Brown?”
“Um,” Bridget flushed red.
“You don’t have to answer if you do not wish to lie to me. I am used to fictitious names. I can tell you that at least two of my female authors are ladies of distinction and do not wish to have their own names on their works. It is a quite common practice, you see, for a lady to shield her real life from her literary life.”
Bridget eased a little in her seat.
“Thank you for understanding. Yes, I do wish to keep my own name private.”
“That is quite fine. To me, you are Miss Brown, and we will not speak again of the matter,” he had said with a jovial smile.
Bridget had rehearsed the summary of the novel as worked out by Lord John and herself. They wanted the meeting to give the agent a taste of what the book was about and contain enough mystery to pique his interest in reading it.
It must have done the job because before Bridget even walked out of the office door, the agent was peeling back the cover of the manuscript and diving right into it.
The man had assured Bridget that it wouldn’t be more than a week before she heard from him again. He also suggested, should he find the book worthy of publishing, that he would be willing to conduct business through correspondence, for anonymity purposes.