The Governess Was Wicked Read Online Free

April.”
    She tried to ignore the disappointment that settled low in her chest. He was leaving. She knew that and yet somehow she couldn’t imagine him not being there, walking in to soothe the girls and her own nerves with the simple competence of his words.
    “The adventure of America must be exciting,” she said.
    He smiled. “I don’t know how much adventure I’ll find there. I expect that most of my time will be spent inside a laboratory.”
    “If I could travel to New York, I’d want to see everything,” she confessed.
    “What would you do if you could?” he asked.
    “So many things. I would listen to the music at the Philharmonic Society or the Astor Opera House. I’d want to see Mr. Barnum’s museum.”
    He laughed. “I read about his collection of curiosities in the newspaper. What else?”
    “I’d walk along the river, ride in a carriage up Broadway, and dance with an Astor at a ball wearing a gown made of white silk,” she said, letting herself get swept up in the fantasy of all the things she would never do. “Oh! And I would dine at Delmonico’s, eating nothing but oysters and champagne.”
    “It sounds as though you’re much more prepared than I am. You’ll have to write me a list.”
    “I would love to travel one day.”
    “You’d make an excellent adventuress. Where did you learn about all of this?”
    “You mustn’t tell,” she said, lowering her voice to a mock whisper, “but sometimes Mr. Norton leaves his newspaper lying about and I read everything I can.”
    He pressed a finger to his lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
    She couldn’t help the glow of warmth that bloomed in her chest at the little moment they’d shared. She’d collected hundreds of those over the years, holding them close to her like priceless jewels only she knew to treasure.
    The little sliver of connection had made her bold. Almost without thinking, she asked, “Is there nothing you’ll miss about England?”
    Those whiskey eyes met hers. “I shall miss some of the people.”
    Her cheeks flushed deep. She opened her mouth and—
    “Miss Porter,” Crane’s deep voice boomed through the hallway.
    She spun around to find the butler glaring ominously from the far end of the corridor. He’d no doubt been watching them, imagining things that weren’t there.
    “A word,” Crane called out.
    “We were just going to inspect the kitchen to see if we could figure out what was making Juliana sick,” she said, fighting the feeling that she was once again seven and had been caught sneaking around the officer’s mess by her father.
    Crane raised a skeptical eyebrow. “As I said, I would appreciate a word, Miss Porter. It’ll only take a moment, Dr. Fellows.”
    The physician’s hands were now clasped behind his back, his weight shifted onto his heels. He looked at ease, but she could feel the tension rolling off him.
    After a moment, Dr. Fellows nodded. “I’ll wait at the head of the stairs, Miss Porter.”
    With hurried steps, she closed the distance to Crane.
    “Miss Porter, what are you doing running around this house in such a state of undress?”
    The butler’s stern tone set her back up. “I’m hardly wandering the halls in my night rail, Mr. Crane. I’m wearing a dressing gown.”
    He swept an eye down her body. “And where are your slippers?”
    “You know very well that my slippers were destroyed.”
    The man sniffed. “It isn’t decent for a woman to be speaking with a man in her bare feet.”
    As though Dr. Fellows was going to fall for her just because he had glimpsed her toes. If that were the case, she’d have tried it years ago.
    “I doubt the doctor finds my feet scintillating, and even if he does, he’s far too polite to comment on them. I notice, however, that you took no time in mentioning them.”
    Crane leaned in, the stench of whiskey on his breath a sick perfume. “I could have you cast from this house.”
    “Mr. Crane,” she said, drawing herself up to her