Chapter 7 #2
“You were questioning her credentials earlier,” he murmured. “Whether she was truly suited to the role.” His gaze flicked meaningfully toward Madeline before returning to Wilhelm. “I should say she has rather answered that.”
Wilhelm kept his expression unreadable. “She is adequate.”
Henry stared at him. “Adequate? Dear God, Will.”
Miss Watton blinked. Then, she startled into a small laugh which she quickly hid behind her hand.
Henry rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Miss Watton, allow me to offer a far more truthful assessment: your talent is extraordinary. I haven’t heard playing that moving in years.”
’Miss Watton’s cheeks turned scarlet immediately. “You are kind.”
Henry grinned. “I am honest. A rare virtue, but one I enjoy exercising.”
Miss Watton chuckled lightly then waved her hand dismissively in Henry’s direction as if she meant to swat away his effusive flattery.
Tessa rose from her spot on the floor and wrapped Miss Watton in a tremendous embrace. From his vantage point, Wilhelm could not see the look on his daughter’s face, but Miss Watton’s was one of pure bliss. She was caught up in the joy of the moment and that moved Wilhelm extraordinarily.
As Henry darted forward and pretended to join in the hug, the ladies burst out with laughter and that caused Wilhelm to experience a stab of something quite different.
Jealousy.
The word formed before he could stop it. Ridiculous and inappropriate. He tried to shove it aside, but it clung stubbornly, coiled beneath his ribs.
Madeline rose from the bench with that quiet grace of hers, smoothing her skirts as though the simple gesture might steady her. A faint flush touched her cheeks, and her eyes held the brightness of someone still caught between embarrassment and the lingering echo of the music she had played.
Henry stepped toward her with the easy confidence of a man who had never been made to question his welcome anywhere.
His posture loosened, shoulders dropping back, chin angling just slightly, enough to signal charm without effort.
His smile curved crookedly, inviting rather than bold.
Madeline looked at him with polite attention, unaware of the way Henry’s gaze swept appreciatively over her face.
Wilhelm felt his jaw clamp so hard a dull ache spread along the hinge of it.
Henry rested a casual hand on the edge of the pianoforte, leaning in just enough to draw her focus fully.
“If you ever tire of governess work,” he said lightly, eyes bright with interest, “I could hire you to tutor my entire household in music.”
Miss Watton let out a soft, breathy laugh. It curled airily throughout the room. “You honor me greatly, my lord, but I believe I have my hands full already,” she replied, brushing a loose curl behind her ear in a gesture so small yet so disarming it made Henry grin wider.
“Tragic,” Henry sighed dramatically. “I shall mourn the loss of such talent.”
Wilhelm moved before either of them could take another step.
One moment Henry stood between them, charming and far too close; the next, Wilhelm stepped forward, positioning himself directly in Henry’s path. He didn’t push or speak, but the shift was unmistakable.
Miss Watton stiffened instantly, and she straightened as his presence filled the space in front of her.
Her eyes widened, startled by the sudden nearness, so close he could see the faint tremble at her throat, the rapid rise of her chest, the way her fingers tightened in her skirts as if steadying herself.
Henry’s brows shot upward in amused disbelief, while Tessa froze mid-step, her little mouth forming a small “o” of confusion.
Wilhelm, with his jaw locked and pulse racing far too fast, realized too late that he had moved out of instinct rather than reason, but he didn’t care.
“Miss Watton,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only she and Henry heard, “I would like a word.”
She blinked. “Now?”
“Yes. If you please.”
Henry’s eyes gleamed with wicked delight. “Oh, this should be interesting.”
Wilhelm ignored him entirely.
Miss Watton swallowed, glancing at Tessa as if seeking rescue. Tessa only shrugged and whispered, “Papa is not scary today.”
Henry added, “He is always a little bit scary.”
Wilhelm shot him a look that would have silenced lesser men.
Miss Watton nodded at last, smoothing her hands down her gown, fingertips trembling slightly. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Wilhelm turned away quickly, afraid he might betray something in his expression if he looked at her a moment longer.
“Follow me,” he said, his voice tight.
He led her out of the music room, the muffled echo of Henry teasing Tessa fading behind them. Miss Watton walked a half-step behind him, her breaths quiet, controlled, though he could hear the faint, nervous hitch when the corridor narrowed and she was forced closer.
The air between them felt charged and aware.
Wilhelm stopped outside his study and opened the door. “After you.”
She hesitated, just a beat, long enough for him to see the rise and fall of her chest before stepping inside.