Chapter Thirteen
Pip watched the sun rise that morning, the sky filling with colors—a dozen different shades of orange and pink—and as she watched she felt uneasy.
Because of Lord Octavius.
Because of that kiss.
Had it been a joke? Or had it been the first step in an attempt to seduce her?
A joke, she told herself. Definitely a joke. Lord Octavius wasn’t the sort of man to seduce governesses . . . was he?
She thought he wasn’t, but she didn’t know he wasn’t, and so she watched sunlight spill across the parkland, tinting everything golden, and worried.
Lord Octavius’s kiss had most likely been a joke—but it was imperative that she proceed as if it hadn’t been, because if she was wrong, if he was attempting to seduce her, she could find herself in trouble. The sort of trouble that res
