How to Claim a Governess’s Heart - Bridget Barton Page 0,98

those things.” Bridget knew she was hysterical, but she couldn’t help it.

The weeks of waiting and not knowing seemed to bubble up and out of her.

“I’m sorry,” Lord John chuckled a little.

“It’s not funny,” Bridget sniffed.

She knew her feelings were real, but it was a little funny how she was now offloading them all at once. A tiny smile spread across her lips.

“I know it's not funny,” Lord John agreed, attempting to control his face. “It was wrong for me to leave as I did. I wanted to make things right, and I didn’t think things through. I should have and spoken to you first.

“I’m still learning how to do all of this,” he continued. “I’m still used to going out on my own and blazing my own path. I’m still learning that I have others who depend on me like Betsy and those I need to share my decisions with, like you,” he finished softly.

“Will you forgive my misgivings?” Lord John asked softly.

“To be honest, I am still doing my best to accept that you haven’t jilted me.”

“Jilt you?” Lord John scoffed.

He took one of her hands and placed it against his heart.

“O, take the sense, sweet of my innocence; Love takes the meaning in love’s conference. I mean that my heart unto yours is knit; So that but one heart we can make of it.”

Bridget blushed as he spoke.

“You’ll have to stop spouting Shakespeare to me. Every time you do, I forget altogether what you have done to upset me.”

“If that is true, then I daresay I will have to start memorising more than just A Midsummer’s Night Dream.”

Bridget let the smile that had begun to bloom blossom across her face. She raised her hand from his chest to tangle in his hair. In a brazen moment, she pulled him close to kiss her.

Lady Eugenia Thorpe, sister of Roger Higgins, desperately tried to clasp the pearl necklace around the fidgeting girl's neck.

“Betsy, you must sit still if you would like to wear your mother’s pearls for the ceremony,” Lady Eugenia chided the girl.

“Here, let me do it,” Bridget offered as she entered the room.

She made her way to the little girl who sat excitedly at the dressing table in their new country home. Though the cottage was smaller than the London townhouse, nothing could have been more perfect for Bridget.

Betsy had her own room with an attached small nursery that Bridget hoped would soon be filled with the sound of more children. The downstairs boasted an office for Lord John to work in, an elegant dining room, a breakfast room, and two parlours. One parlour opened to a beautiful atrium that would soon be filled with all sorts of plants and specimens for Betsy to study and learn about.

The estate was a small parcel of land not far from the home that Mr. Higgins occupied, making it easy for the friends to call on each other frequently. In fact, Bridget was determined now that they were settled in their new home to set her eyes on finding a match for Lord John’s best friend.

“You look stunning,” Lady Eugenia remarked. “I am sure that Lord John too will heartily approve of your choice of dress today.”

“I should hope so,” Bridget giggled after doubling-up the necklace that was still much too long for the wearer and fastening it securely. “It took me almost two weeks to make the lace for the sleeves. I would hate for all that work to be a disappointment to him.”

“I have seen the way Lord John looks at you. It would not matter if you were wearing a potato sack, he would still find you the most beautiful woman in the county.”

Bridget stood up and stole a quick look at herself in the mirror on the wall. She had chosen a modest ivory cotton dress with pink rosettes. The garment had come with short cap sleeves. Though everyone in today's party had seen her scars and had no quarrel with them, still she had chosen to painstakingly thread tight-fitting lace sleeves that opened slightly at her wrist. They were weaved in a rose pattern to match the embroidery on the dress. Along with the sleeves, she had also made a long lace veil to cover her modest chestnut bun.

She had never been the type of girl who studied herself in a mirror much, but today she couldn’t help but feel like a princess when she looked at her reflection. Though Betsy was wriggling with excitement