Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Catherine paced the length of her bedchamber, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The events of the evening played on an endless loop in her mind, each memory stoking the fire of her anger. She could still hear Isabella’s condescending tone, still feel the sting of Edward’s revelation.

“Engaged,” she muttered, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. “To that insufferable woman.”

She paused at the window, gazing out at the moonlit grounds of Wessex Manor. How quickly everything had changed. Just days ago, she had harbored hope that perhaps... but no. It was foolish to even entertain such thoughts.

A sharp knock at the door startled her from her brooding. “Go away,” she called, not caring if she sounded petulant.

The door opened anyway, and Catherine whirled around, ready to berate whoever had dared to ignore her wishes. The words died on her lips as she saw Edward standing there, his face a mask of conflicting emotions.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

Edward stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “We need to talk, Catherine.”

She laughed bitterly. “I believe we’ve said all there is to say, My Lord. Or did you come to gloat? To rub salt in the wound?”

“Damn it, Catherine,” Edward growled, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Can you not see that this is tearing me apart as well?”

Catherine’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Tearing you apart? You made your choice, Edward. You chose duty over... over whatever this is between us.”

Edward took a step closer, his eyes intense. “And what exactly is this between us, Catherine? You speak of love, of passion, but what do you truly know of such things?”

“I know enough,” Catherine shot back, lifting her chin defiantly. “I know that what I feel for you is more real, more powerful than anything I have ever experienced. And I know that you feel it too, even if you’re too much of a coward to admit it.”

Edward’s jaw clenched. “A coward? Is that truly what you think of me?”

“What else am I to think?” Catherine’s voice rose. “You hide behind your duties, your responsibilities. You’d rather marry a woman you don’t love than take a chance on something real.”

“And what would you have me do?” Edward demanded, closing the distance between them. “Throw away everything I’ve worked for? Disgrace my family name? For what? A dalliance with my sister’s governess?”

The words hit Catherine like a physical blow. She staggered back a step, her eyes filling with tears. “Is that all I am to you? A potential dalliance?”

Edward’s expression softened, regret flashing across his face. “Catherine, I...”

But she was beyond listening now. Every ounce of her pent-up frustration and longing burst forth like a dam breaking. “You arrogant, pig-headed man! Do you think I chose to fall in love with you? Do you think I wanted to risk everything I’ve worked for? My reputation, my future... all of it hangs by a thread because of my feelings for you. And for what? To be dismissed as a mere dalliance?”

Edward stood frozen, his eyes wide. “You... you have fallen in love with me?”

Catherine let out a strangled laugh. “I have… I have, you fool. God help me, but I do.”

For a moment, they stood there, the air between them crackling with tension. Then, with a growl of frustration, Edward surged forward, capturing Catherine’s lips in a searing kiss.

Catherine gasped against his mouth, her body instinctively arching into his. Edward’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss. All thoughts of propriety, of duty, of the insurmountable obstacles between them fled in the face of their overwhelming desire.

Edward’s hands roamed her back, tracing the curve of her spine through the thin material of her nightgown. Catherine’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if she could meld their bodies together through sheer force of will.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily. Edward rested his forehead against Catherine’s, his eyes closed. “We shouldn’t,” he murmured, even as his hands tightened on her waist.

“No,” Catherine agreed, her voice breathless. “We really shouldn’t.”

For a moment, neither moved. Then, as if by mutual agreement, their lips met again, this time with a desperate urgency that left no room for doubt or hesitation.

Edward’s hands fumbled with the ribbons of Catherine’s nightgown, loosening them just enough to expose the soft skin of her shoulders. His lips trailed a path along her jaw, down her neck, eliciting a soft moan from Catherine that sent shivers down his spine.

Catherine’s own hands were not idle. She pushed Edward’s coat from his shoulders, her fingers working swiftly to undo the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. When her hands finally made contact with the warm skin of his chest, they both gasped at the sensation.

“Catherine,” Edward groaned, his voice rough with desire. “Are you certain? If we do this...”

She silenced him with another kiss, pouring all her longing, all her frustration, all her love into the gesture. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life,” she whispered against his lips.

That was all the encouragement Edward needed. With a swift movement, he lifted Catherine into his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently, his eyes roaming her form with a hunger that made her breath catch in her throat.

As Edward joined her on the bed, Catherine reached for him, pulling him close. Their kisses grew more heated, hands exploring newly exposed skin with a reverence bordering on worship. Each touch, each caress was a revelation, a silent declaration of all the words they’d left unspoken.

Their lips met in a searing kiss and her legs fell open as he positioned himself over her. “Catherine,” Edward growled, his eyes meeting hers. “Are you sure?”

There was no turning back—of that much she was certain. There was nothing she could do, but nod and when Edward finally entered her, Catherine felt as though her world had shifted on its axis. They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies speaking a language that transcended words. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and she arched her back to press her chest against his, her nails pressing against his back and creating crescent shaped indentations on his skin.

As they approached their peak, Catherine clung to Edward, her nails digging into his back. “Edward,” she gasped, her voice filled with wonder and desperation. “Oh, Edward...”

“Catherine,” he groaned in response, his movements becoming more urgent. “My Catherine...”

They rode the wave together, crying out in shared ecstasy. As the aftershocks rippled through them, Edward collapsed onto Catherine, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She held him close, her fingers gently carding through his hair.

For a long while, they lay there in silence, the reality of what they’d done slowly seeping back in. Edward rolled onto his side, pulling Catherine with him so that they lay face to face, limbs still entwined.

“What have we done?” he murmured, though there was no trace of regret in his voice.

Catherine traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. “Something wonderful,” she replied softly. “And terrible.”

Edward caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I don’t regret it,” he said firmly. “I could never regret this... regret you.”

“Nor I,” Catherine whispered. “But… it changes nothing.”

Edward looked down, conflict playing across his features. “I want… I want things to be different,” he whispered. “Oh, how I wish I were free… but…”

Catherine nodded, tears pricking at her eyes. “You’re still engaged. Still the Earl of Wessex. And I’m still just a governess.”

Edward pulled her closer, as if he could shield her from the harsh realities of their situation through sheer physical proximity. “You could never be ’just’ anything, Catherine. You are... extraordinary.”

They lapsed into silence once more, each lost in their own thoughts. As sleep began to claim them, Catherine pressed herself closer to Edward, trying to memorize every detail of this moment. The steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his skin, the way his arms tightened around her even in sleep.

She knew, with a certainty that ached, that this night would have to last her a lifetime.

Hours later, Catherine awoke with a start. The room was still dark, the first hints of dawn not yet visible on the horizon. Beside her, Edward slept peacefully, his face relaxed in a way she had never seen before.

Gently, so as not to wake him, Catherine extricated herself from his embrace. She stood by the bed for a long moment, drinking in the sight of him. In sleep, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift from his shoulders. He looked younger, unburdened.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I will always love you.”

With trembling hands, she dressed quickly, gathering what few possessions she could carry. She knew that if she stayed, if she had to face Edward in the cold light of day, her resolve would crumble. She would agree to be his mistress, his dirty little secret, and in doing so, she would destroy them both.

No, it was better this way. A clean break. A chance for both of them to heal and move on.

She penned a quick note, explaining her actions as best she could. It felt woefully inadequate, but it was all she could offer. Placing the note on the pillow where she had lain, Catherine allowed herself one last look at Edward’s sleeping form. For a brief moment she considered leaving an explanation for Emily as well, but there were no words.

Then, gathering her courage, she slipped out of the room and made her way through the silent halls of Wessex Manor. The stables were deserted at this hour, and it was the work of moments to saddle one of the horses.

As she urged the horse into a gallop, Catherine felt the first tears begin to fall. They mingled with the cool night air rushing past her face as she rode away from Wessex Manor, away from Edward, away from the only real home she had ever known.

The future stretched out before her, uncertain and terrifying. But as the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon, Catherine felt a glimmer of hope. She had survived loss before. She would survive this too.

As Wessex Manor faded into the distance behind her, Catherine whispered a final goodbye to the life she was leaving behind. To Emily, to the dreams she had harbored, and to Edward—the man who had awakened her heart only to break it.

The road ahead was long and unknown, but Catherine Winslow rode on, her chin held high. Whatever the future held, she would face it with the same strength and determination that had brought her this far.

And somewhere, in the deepest recesses of her heart, she would always carry the memory of one perfect, passionate night—a bittersweet reminder of what might have been.