Her heart pounded in her chest—quick, rhythmic movements that matched her footsteps. She paused outside Dominic’s door, steeled herself and knocked.
His faint reply encouraged her to open the door. How often she saw him bent over the desk. Surely the man she’d first met at Lady Brandewyne’s had changed. Perhaps due to her meddling? Pride filled her, but quickly seeped away when she remembered her reason for being here.
She had nothing to be prideful about.
It had been a slow reckoning, but last night had sealed the feeling for her. Watching Dominic be so serious, so alert to what she needed done, had shown her how he cared. Perhaps he had lived a superficial lifestyle in the past, but that had been his way of avoiding failure.
Not only that, but the dinner at his sister’s had also proven that he was simply a product of conditioning. He had been told it was okay to behave in the manner he had. Now that he knew differently, he changed accordingly.
She squared her shoulders, walked to him and sat in that familiar and uncomfortable chair again. She was not here about his shortcomings. She was here about hers.
He looked up, his signature dimple present. “You may put your list of items for me to fix on the desk.”
“Your townhouse is run more efficiently than your estate, therefore I have no list.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence then?”
“I have been thinking—”
“As you often do,” he said, dimple deepening.
A hot flush zipped through her. Suddenly she was remembering their waltz, the placement of his hand on hers, the steadiness of his gaze as he guided her through the steps. Her pulse thrummed. “You were right.”
Oh, how difficult to speak those words. They pushed through lips frozen with pride and self-worth.
His eyebrows shot up. He leaned back into his chair, tapping one long finger against the paperwork on his desk.
“It is to my sorrow that I must confess that I acted like a priggish, overinflated buffoon.”
“You’re being a bit hard on yourself.”
There was a delicious purr to the rasp of his voice that only worsened the heat flooding through her. She shifted on her seat, interlocking her fingers to keep from fidgeting.
“I am seeing myself as you must have seen me.” She hesitated, swallowing hard. “The thing is, my lord, I have never had to apologize for anything. My uncle valued my input and often praised me for my perspicacity. We worked together in perfect harmony, and it was not until I contracted rheumatic fever that our partnership crumbled.”
“I see.” He steepled his fingers beneath his chin. The dimple eased, but she detected a sparkle in his eyes that gave her pause. “To which instance are you referring to regarding your buffoonish behavior then?”
“Whatever do you mean, ‘which instance’?”
He shrugged, and now she was certain that he was laughing at her, because it seemed that his shrug had a bit of wiggle to it. As though containing the most improper urge to laugh.
“I wish I could find the humor that is so easily available to you,” she said testily, “but alas, I am too overcome with mortification over my behavior.”
“Behavior that I remain unclear on.”
She released a long-suffering sigh. “Very well, I shall spell it out. I am not referring to my opinion of your quack apothecary.”
That got a reaction. Only a frown, but for a man like St. Raven, it indicated deep displeasure. It was wrong, but she felt a smidge of satisfaction that she could upset him when he was finding such great joy in teasing her.
“My opinion of you has changed,” she continued primly. “I was wrong to have judged you as a superficial coward hiding from responsibilities. As a careless flirt. You are so much more than that. A good man who must deal with a strange malady while juggling new responsibilities. You are kind and helpful. It is not your fault that you grew up thinking you could live however you like without consequence.”
His gaze flickered. “Do you have any idea how arrogant you sound?”
“Arrogant? I’m trying to apologize.” Her voice almost quavered. She managed to put a bit of iron into it. “I judged you wrongly.”
“No, you judged correctly. I was exactly who you thought I was, and if you think I’m different now, it is because I am.”
Stymied, she could only stare. How fierce he looked. Even, dare she think it, stern.
“I will be honest, Henrietta. I had hoped you planned to apologize about your behavior at my estate.” Though humbleness flavored his voice, his emerald eyes cut sharp.
She drew back, his words unexpected. “I was right to behave so. We both know that man is not a good person.”
“He certainly is not. Yet, you are filled with pride. Doesn’t the Bible admonish us against that?”
Her mouth dropped open even as a terrible schism of pain invaded her. “I hardly expect you to be an expert in such matters.”
Oh, how could she have been entertaining tender feelings toward this egotistical, rude man. She folded her arms, pressing them in a snug little circle about her body.
“You have already decided who I am. Why don’t you just tell me who you are.” He bit off the words.
“For two months more I am a governess.”
“Only two months?” He sounded shocked, which rang a little alarm at the back of her mind. She continued, ignoring it. “After that, assistant to a renowned physician.”
“Who has no idea of what you’re planning.”
“That is not relevant to this conversation.”
He dipped his head in a mocking manner. “By all means, then, what is relevant?”
They locked eyes, and though she burned at his censure, there was now a little voice inside insisting that she listen to him. That she take a clear view of herself and how she treated
