“She did not want to wake Aunt Lavinia, because she knew there would be questions—for which she did not yet have answers. “Have you become the next governess at Blackthorne Abbey?” Eliza exhaled gustily. “Why are you still awake?” “I could not sleep with you roaming about the countryside in the dark,” Aunt Lavinia grumbled. She rearranged the pillows behind her, so she was sitting up comfortably. “Well, girl? What did the duke say?” Eliza was still breathing hard, because she had run almost the ...whole way back. She had spent the entire two miles trying to control her rage—unsuccessfully. Now it all poured out. “I can be the next governess,” she snarled. “If I marry the Beast of Blackthorne.” “By Jericho! He did it! The Beau proposed!” “By Jove, Jove, Jove!” Eliza snapped back. “And the Beau did not propose, it was the Beast of Blackthorne!” “Stop pacing and sit down,” her aunt said. “You are making me dizzy.” Eliza dropped onto the narrow servant’s cot that had been set up for her next to the four-poster bed her aunt was settled in.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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