Amanda StoNeS
Historical Regency Romance Author
A Duke's Daring Governess
First Chapters
Chapter One
In the quiet little village of Haverstock, Emma Taylor paced frantically across the worn floor of her modest room in the home of her father, Vicar John Taylor. At the age of three and ten her sister, Isabella, her junior by seven years, sat on her bed, watching her with her brow creased with deep thought. Isabella had initially come to tell her that it was time for tea. But when she saw Emma chewing her lip and pacing a track in her bedroom floor, she had flopped down onto Emma’s bed, silently watching her.
“Emma, what troubles you?” Isabella finally asked, rising from the bed and putting gentle hands on her elder sister’s shoulders to stop her ceaseless pacing.
Emma sighed heavily, looking her sister over. If not for the drastic difference in their ages, they could almost be mistaken for twins. They both had the same fair skin and rosy cheeks and the same brilliant blue eyes. The only difference was in their hair, with Emma’s being a single shade of chestnut brown lighter than Isabella’s. She and her sister were very close. But Emma wondered how she could ever place her own heavy burdens on a girl of just thirteen.
“Isabella,” she said, biting her lip again. “This really isn’t for you to concern yourself with.”
Isabella put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at Emma.
“Mother and Father spend enough time treating me like a child,” she said. “Please, Sister. Do not do the same. I may be young, but I love you, and I wish to help you.”
Emma sighed again. When they were younger, she had no fear of telling Isabella anything. But now that she was twenty, her problems had far outgrown the bond of two young sisters. Still, she knew that Isabella was wise. And she needed to talk to someone before her thought threatened to swallow her whole.
“Father came to me this morning after breakfast,” she said, dropping her voice low to try to keep from being heard through the thin walls of the vicarage. “He said that a governess position has opened up at Sinclair Manor. The duke of Buckinghamshire seeks a governess for his ward, Lady Victoria, and Father said that he received an inquiry regarding my interest in the position.”
Isabella gasped softly, covering her mouth with her hands.
“His Grace has quite an enigmatic reputation,” she said. “Not much is known about him, but many people have their opinions.”
Emma nodded slowly.
“I’m aware,” she said. “He and his family were once devout members of the parish. But over the past couple of years, they have stopped attending services. There are many rumours as to why, but that isn’t my reservation.”
Isabella shook her head, her brows wrinkling in confusion.
“But I thought you wanted to find a life away from the vicarage,” she said.
Emma nodded again.
“I do,” she said. “I am uncertain if the position of a governess aligns with my expectations.”
In fact, that was not at all what she had in mind. She had wanted a life filled with adventure and knowledge. Specifically, she had hoped to travel far outside of London and see what of the world she could learn wherever she ended up. She had often thought of teaching others, as well. But she had never considered confining herself to the life of a governess right in the heart of the London countryside.
Isabella slid her hands from Emma’s shoulders and into her hands, giving her a warm smile.
“But perhaps, this could be the beginning of the things you truly want,” she said.
Emma shrugged.
“I don’t see how the position of governess near London could ever see me out of London,” she said.
Isabella shook her head, still smiling.
“How will you know if you don’t try?” she asked. “And anyway, isn’t it better than staying here if you are unhappy?”
Emma sighed once more. Her sister had a point. It wasn’t that she didn’t cherish her family and her abode. And it certainly wasn’t that she didn’t hold a profound love for God. She simply believed that her divine purpose lay beyond the humble vicarage. However, she also held the conviction that it extended beyond the role of governess. Even for a prestigious, if mysterious, duke.
A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts, and her conversation with her sister. Isabella went to answer the door, and Mrs. Mary Taylor, a woman of quiet grace and infinite wisdom, entered with a gentle smile.
“Emma, my dear, forgive me of eavesdropping,” she said. “I would like to speak with you about what your father told you this morning.”
Isabella didn’t need to be told that she was excused. She gave Emma a gentle pat on the back and silently left the room, closing the door behind her. Once she was gone, the vicar’s wife led her eldest daughter over to her bed, sitting down and tugging Emma down beside her.
“I understand this is a momentous choice for you, my dear,” she stated. “However, enlightenment and motivation hold great significance. Particularly for the youth. It is our duty as followers of God to utilize our connection with the Lord to assist as many individuals as we can, in any capacity possible.”
Emma nodded, chewing her lip once again.
“I understand, Mother,” she said. “But that is the dilemma. We are expected to aid numerous individuals, not solely one.”
Mary Taylor patted her eldest daughter’s hand gently.
“Occasionally, we must commence with one,” she remarked. “We cannot aid the world in its entirety at once, my dear. We must initiate with one individual at a time.”
Emma thought it over. She supposed that both Isabella and her mother had a point. Perhaps, she could eventually find herself touching more lives and learning more new things. But why did she have to make such a decision so quickly? Why couldn’t she have more time to think it over? She sighed, the weight of the decision settling on her shoulders.
“But what if I don’t like it there?” she asked. “What if I don’t get on with the Duke?” Or what if he doesn’t like me? She added silently.
Her mother gave her a fond smile.
“And what if you do?” she asked.
The words were simple. But they were just deep enough to give Emma pause. She was still uncertain that such a decision was the right one for her life. She couldn’t believe it was her true calling. But perhaps, her mother was right yet again. What if she did enjoy her work there?
“I suppose he did inquire for me specifically,” she mused. She didn’t need to ask why. Being the eldest daughter of a vicar, she imagined that she would be a good choice for any noble family in London. She was educated by the church and raised with all the ideals of modesty and humility expected of young ladies in the ton. She even had some teaching experience with the children of the parish, hosting bible classes for young ones who were just beginning their journey within the church. She knew she would make a desirable candidate, indeed. But what about the other governesses who were experienced in the specific field, who were no doubt more in need of work than she was at that time?
Her mother nodded, clearly pleased that she seemed to be considering the idea.
“That’s right, dear,” she said. “And while I’m sure he didn’t just ask your father, I should think he would rather have the daughter of a vicar if he could manage it. You are a shining example of what a young lady should be. And with his charge being a girl herself, he would naturally want the best influence he could find.”
Emma exhaled through half closed lips, blowing a stray strand of her brown hair out of her face. She was still reluctant to embrace the idea of taking the job. But the more her mother spoke, the more sense she made. Perhaps, she was mistaking her calling for her own wishes for her life. Perhaps, she needed to take whatever opportunities came her way and see where they led her, instead of trying to lead them herself.
“Very well,” she said at last with one last heavy sigh. “I shall take the position.”
Her mother beamed at her, rising to her feet and once more pulling Emma to her side. She embraced her eldest daughter, rubbing her back soothingly.
“Indeed, there is my dear,” she murmured gently. “This shall prove to be a most splendid choice. Have faith in me, and have faith in the divine providence. You shall soon see.”
Emma nodded, giving her mother a weak smile. She wished she could be as certain as her mother was. Still, she had to admit that it was an odd thing to happen at random. Surely, God had some hand in the duke’s decision to invite her to apply for the governess position.
“I trust you, Mother,” she said.
Mrs. Taylor nodded, smiling proudly as she patted her daughter’s shoulder.
“Very good,” she said. “I’ll leave you to start packing. You’ll be leaving tomorrow morning. The duke will want to see you as soon as possible.”
Emma frowned.
“Won’t Father need to write to him to tell him that I’m coming?” she asked.
Her mother shook her head.
“The trip is only about a day and a half,” she said. “You would arrive just as soon as a letter would.”
Emma nodded slowly, feeling as though the breath had been knocked out of her. She had resigned herself to taking the position. She hadn’t expected to leave so soon. Her heart was heavy as her mother left the room to let her begin packing. She would miss her family. But she would miss Isabella most of all. Would she ever be allowed to visit her family? What if the duke was cruel and never let her leave Sinclair Manor? What if that was the last time she saw her parents and sister?
She folded her dresses, tucking them gingerly into her worn leather trunk. The vicarage had been her home her entire life, the familiar walls still echoing with the laughter she shared with her sister and the comforting presence of her parents. Now, the prospect of Sinclair Manor loomed before her like a sea beneath a cloudy sky. The sun could shine at any moment. Or the skies could open up and bring a storm carrying the wrath of all the heavens. She wanted to be excited. But all she could muster was a flood of anxiety and worry.
As Emma packed her treasured books, a collection amassed over years of yearning for worlds beyond Haverstock, she pondered her mother’s words. God called his worshippers to all different callings. And her mother seemed to think that the job offer had been a divine prospect. But even as she tucked the last of her possessions into the trunk, she couldn’t let go of the idea that her calling was somewhere other than a governess’s position.
Once she finished packing, Emma went in search of her sister. She would endeavor to display fortitude as she conveyed to Isabella the news of her impending departure. However, as she traversed the vicarage, tears pricked her eyes. Embracing her role as governess to the duke was a responsibility she would shoulder without hesitation. Yet, if she were to depart at dawn, she could not do so without one final stay in her sister’s chamber. She yearned for her last recollection of home to be a source of solace during moments of longing for her family.
Chapter Two
The grand chamber at Sinclair Manor was bathed in the soft glow of the fire dancing in the hearth. The flames were casting shadows upon the walls, reminding Alexander Sinclair of the lively scene of a ball, despite the gravity of the situation before him. The scent of lavender filled the air as Lady Madeline Sinclair, his widowed mother, reclined on the plush, canopied bed, her delicate features accentuated by the subdued fire light. Her eyes were closed, and Alexander held his breath, not wanting to wake her lest she be resting, as was rare for her those days.
He sat by her bedside, trying to keep the weight of his mother’s illness from becoming too heavy. He was there to lift her spirits, after all. Not to burden her with his sorrow over her condition. The physician had told Alexander that his mother wasn’t to suffer any stress, and it was his duty to ensure that she did not. That didn’t make his own feelings any easier to handle, however. So, he simply sat with a smile plastered on his face, even as his heart broke as he watched the woman who had birthed him and cared for him his entire life wasted away before his eyes.
His heart also ached for his daughter. Little Victoria, who was only seven years old, didn’t fully understand what was happening to her grandmother, whom she loved dearly. It pained Alexander to have to keep Victoria away from her grandmother. But with Victoria’s mother having died shortly after giving birth, the dowager duchess was the closest thing she had to a mother. Victoria was a smart, but sensitive child. He didn’t want her to witness what he witnessed as his mother deteriorated.
Am I doing the right thing? He wondered as he stared at his slumbering mother. Will Victoria resent me if she doesn’t get to see her grandmother before she dies?
He sighed softly to himself. It was at times like that he felt the most lost without Sarah, his late wife. He had loved her dearly, and they had been thrilled to be welcoming a child. His world would have collapsed after her death, had it not been for Victoria. She had been his saving grace, and she was his world. He would do anything to care for and protect her. But even with as much as he loved his daughter, he still often missed his wife. He saw Sarah in Victoria more each day, and his heart ached. And now, as he watched his mother weakening, he wondered how much more he had left to lose.
The death of his father had been hard on both him and his mother. Richard Sinclair, the preceding duke, had died from a sudden coronary episode the same year Sarah was born. Losing both his father and his wife in the same year had been trying, but his mother had been instrumental in helping him through the first few years of Victoria’s life. Now that she was fading, Alexander had no idea what he would do. He knew he had the household staff. But he also knew that Victoria needed more love than that which money could buy from servants. Perhaps, even more than he could offer, even though he loved her with his entire being.
As Alexander brooded, the dowager duchess stirred. Alexander became alert, watching his mother’s face as her eyelids fluttered rapidly for several seconds before her eyes popped open. Her eyes were unfocused and cloudy for a moment until they settled on him. Then, she offered him a weak smile, offering him a cold, fragile hand.
“How long have you been in here, darling?” she rasped.
Alexander cleared his throat, praying that his voice didn’t betray his worries.
“Just about an hour,” he said, patting her hand gently and trying not to wince as he felt how icy her skin was.
His mother shook her head, clearly using much of her strength to do so.
“You should be with Victoria,” she said, pausing to cough. “I will still be right here once she’s gone to bed.”
Alexander bit his lip to stifle his thought. That’s not guaranteed, Mother, he retorted silently.
“Victoria is having a picnic with her nursemaid,” he said. “She’s perfectly all right.”
The dowager looked at him, her eyes suddenly looking sharp and clear.
“There is something I wish to discuss with you,” she said.
Alexander’s eyebrows raised and he looked at his mother inquisitively.
“What is it, Mother?” he asked.
The dowager shifted herself in bed, seeming to regain some of her strength as she pushed herself up on the pillows. Alexander jumped up to help her, fluffing the pillows as the dowager laid back against them.
“I’ve taken the liberty of having Rosa pen a letter to the attorneys,” she said. “Victoria needs a governess, and I thought it best to secure one without troubling you.”
Alexander’s brows furrowed. His mother’s inclination for unilateral decisions often stirred a simmering annoyance within him. And it seemed as though even her illness was not slowing her penchant for making such decisions. She was even going so far as to recruit her lady’s maid to help her sneak around behind his back. Yet, he kept his countenance serene, knowing that her intentions were always borne of love.
“Mother,” he said, keeping his voice at an even, quiet tone. “While I appreciate your concern for Victoria and her education, I do wish you’d consulted me on such matters.”
The dowager looked up at him with a hint of apology in her eyes.
“Darling, there was no time to wait,” she said. “Victoria is growing every day, and we cannot afford to delay her education.”
A sigh escaped Alexander’s lips, but he nodded in understanding. Duty, a constant companion to a man of his station, pressed upon him even within the walls of his mother’s chambers. Especially when the matter at hand was involving his daughter. He knew his mother was right. And deep down, he supposed that he only felt guilty that he hadn’t taken the time to see to the hiring of a governess for his daughter himself.
It was difficult, tending to his duties as a duke, being a single father to a young daughter and tending to an ailing mother. There never seemed to be enough hours in a day, and he always felt that he was failing someone when they needed him most, no matter how hard he tried.
As if sensing his internal struggle, Lady Madeline squeezed his hand.
“You are a good son, Alexander,” she said, smiling softly. “And you are a wonderful father, as well as a dependable, reputable duke. I know you’ll see to it that Victoria gets the best of everything in life. You will always be devoted to your duties. And as for me…” she trailed off, taking a ragged breath. “Darling, there is nothing more you can do for me. If it is my time, then so be it. You must focus on your sweet daughter.”
He managed a faint smile, his thoughts drifting to the responsibilities that awaited him outside his mother’s chambers. Yet, the impending duty was momentarily overshadowed by the love he harbored for his mother. His heart ached each time they spoke of her impending passing.
He still wished to believe that she might yet live. But his mother seemed convinced that her time was almost at an end. He never confronted the thought outside her room. But each time she mentioned it, his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. As did all the responsibilities that would be his and his alone in her wake.
“Thank you for your kind words, Mother,” he said. “I should let you rest now. You need your strength if you are to recover.”
The dowager duchess scoffed gently, shaking her head. But instead of reminding Alexander of how sick she was, as she often did, she held onto his hand, keeping him in his seat.
“Before you go, I should mention one other thing,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding much more casual and less urgent. “Lady Caroline and her family will be joining the Season. They will be arriving shortly and I wish to host them here for some time.”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed. He loved his mother dearly. But the prospect of him remarrying and his mother’s matchmaking efforts had always been a point of contention between the two of them. She knew that Alexander had not even considered taking another wife since Sarah died. He didn’t feel that he would ever be ready for such an endeavor. And he certainly didn’t want to be pushed into it.
“Mother,” he said, keeping his tone measured. “I appreciate your efforts in securing a suitable match for me. However, as you know perfectly well, I am not inclined to rush into marriage.”
The dowager gave her son a pleading look. It would have been enough for Alexander to do anything she asked if what she was asking wasn’t the one thing he could never consider.
“Alexander, it’s time to think of Victoria,” she said. “I know that you loved Sarah. But she’s gone, child. Victoria doesn’t just need proper education. She needs a mother figure. You must try to put her needs above your own feelings. You are her father, and she is depending on you to do what is right for her.”
A ripple of resistance coursed through him, but he chose his next words carefully.
“I am glad that you care so much for Victoria, Mother,” he said. “But I shall seek and secure a bride at my own pace, and only if I should happen to choose to do so.”
His mother’s eyes dulled, and it was clear that she was disappointed. Alexander felt bad for defying her in her current state. Part of him wondered what the harm could be in granting her the wish she so desperately wanted him to fulfill. Even if he only spoke the words to placate her. But he couldn’t be dishonest with her, even if she might pass the following day. It would break his heart for his last words to his mother to be an outright lie.
Instead, he rose, kissing his mother on the forehead. His heart lurched at how warm her skin was compared to her cold, clammy hands. She was feverish again, and he hoped that the servants who were tending to her could bring down her fever again.
“I must go check in on Victoria,” he said. “We can talk more about this later.”
The dowager nodded, and her mouth twitched like she wanted to say something more. But her eyelids were already drooping, and her grip on his hand had loosened. He held his breath, praying that she wasn’t about to breathe her last. But a moment later, her breathing became steady and rhythmic, albeit a bit raspy, and her chest rose and fell in even motions. He sighed with relief, tiptoeing out of the room. He closed the door, motioning for the maid who had waited outside for him to finish visiting with her to go tend to her. Then, he descended the stairs and headed for his study.
He had no intention of discussing marriage further with his mother. He did, however, need to see if there had been any correspondence in reply to his mother’s inquiry regarding the governess. If he had any say in the matter, he would select the governess himself. And if he didn’t, he would have no qualms about firing whomever had been hired if she turned out not to be what Victoria needed. After all, his mother wanted the best for her. And he intended to see that she got it, even if it defied his mother’s wishes.
Chapter Three
“Oh, Sister, how I will miss you,” Isabella sobbed, flying into Emma’s arms as she loaded the last of her trunks into the waiting carriage.
Emma blinked back her tears as she embraced her sister. Leaving Isabella behind was the hardest part of her leaving. She had lain awake all night, thinking over everything she and her mother had discussed. But even if her new job did turn out to be a way she could make a difference and serve God, she knew that the pain of losing Isabella would make her perpetually homesick.
“I’ll miss you too, darling,” she whispered, choking back a sob of her own.
Isabella pulled away, her flushed cheeks streaked with tears.
“Promise to write to me every chance you get,” she said.
Emma laughed, wiping away a tear that had just begun to fall down Isabella’s face.
“I will write every single day, if I am able,” she said.
Isabella nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.
“I want to know all about the Duke of Buckinghamshire,” she said. “And I want to know that he treats you well.”
Emma couldn’t help giggling again.
“He will be my employer,” she said. “You make it sound like he is to be my husband.”
Isabella shrugged, wiping her own face with her hands.
“I don’t care what he will be,” she said. “I just want to know if he treats you well.”
Emma smiled weakly at her sister’s quip, trying to keep her own apprehension at bay. She knew nothing about the duke, except that no one else in the ton knew much about him. There were rumors that swirled that he was a hermit, that he was cruel to his servants and that he had shut himself off from the world with various reasons as to why he would do such a thing. Emma wasn’t one for gossip, as she knew that everyone was a child of God and should be treated as such. And yet, she couldn’t help being afraid since she was about to go to work in the Duke’s employ.
“All will be well, Sister,” she finally said, kissing her sister on the cheek as the coachman called to her. “I will write to you about my arrival at Sinclair Manor as soon as I am able. I love you always.”
Isabella returned her kiss, reluctantly pulling away from her older sister.
“You’d better,” she said with a weak smile as she put her hands on her chest. “And I love you more, Sister.”
Emma nodded, waving one final goodbye to her younger sister. Then, she turned and boarded the waiting carriage, watching as Isabella waved to her until she and the vicarage were no longer in sight. Filled with apprehension and immediate homesickness, Emma faced forward in her seat, watching the road that was taking her from everything she had ever known to everything of which she was terrified. She hoped her mother was right. But she feared that her employment at Sinclair Manor would be the biggest mistake of her life.
***
Almost two days later, Emma’s carriage pulled up the winding driveway to the imposing expanse of Sinclair Manor. The high gray walls cast long shadows over the grounds, giving the mansion an air of brooding and sinister secrets. All the black curtains were drawn closed, making them look as though the manor had a dozen cold, black eyes. It was a well-maintained mansion, to be sure. But its rigid coldness sent shivers down Emma’s spine. She was suddenly envisioning a hunch-backed master with wrinkles lining a constant snarling expression and small black eyes that were as unyielding as the black-draped windows.
Don’t be silly, she silently scolded herself as she walked up to the large gray front doors of the mansion. Even if he has a physical deformity, he deserves compassion, just as everyone else does. And it certainly doesn’t mean that he is a cruel man. Stop letting your imagination run away with you.
But as she pulled on the black door knocker, she couldn’t shake the image her mind had produced of her new employer. What if her sister was right to worry? What if he ended up being a harsh employer who made every day of her tenure miserable? What if he refused to allow her to leave if she felt uncomfortable or unsafe?
As she waited for the butler to answer the door, she fidgeted nervously with the long sleeves of her blue muslin dress. She felt sure she would be given a uniform, but her mother had advised her to take all of her own dresses, as well, should she be sent into town or given time off.
She didn’t have as many dresses as a rich lady would. But she had been sure that her favorite dress, a pink, lightweight wool gown, had been packed carefully on top of her others. Part of her wished she was wearing it then. Perhaps, she would feel a little more confident when she met her employer for the very first time.
***
“You are here to inquire about the governess position, I presume?” the butler said, suddenly standing before her.
Emma gasped, startled. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t even heard the doors open. She blushed furiously as she tried to recover her senses, giving the butler a weak smile.
“Yes,” she said, clearing the tremor from her voice. “My name is Emma Taylor. I’m the eldest daughter of Reverend John Taylor.”
The butler bowed slightly before giving her a warm smile.
“I am Randall Travis, the Duke’s butler,” he said. He had kind brown eyes and laugh lines around the corners of his cleanly shaven mouth. Emma thought she would get on well with him. “I recall the Duke mentioning that he had petitioned to speak with you about the position. Please, come in. He’s currently in his study, but Lady Victoria is in the parlour, drinking milk with the head housekeeper.”
Emma fought the urge to chew on her lip. She recalled what her mother had said about how eager the duke likely would be to have the daughter of a vicar tutoring his child. It was a great deal of pressure for Emma, and she found she suddenly wanted to flee the manor and never look back.
“Thank you, Mr. Travis,” she said instead, following the butler into the mansion’s vast, albeit drab, entryway. The interior walls were as gray as those outside, and they were lined with portraits that Emma could only guess were ancestors and relatives of the reigning duke.
She could feel the eyes of each painted face watching her as she followed the butler through the halls, and she had to keep her own eyes to the ground. She knew she was only spooking herself because of her nerves. But it was taking all her concentration to remind herself of that. And the aristocratic world which was apparent all around her did little to calm her. It was all overwhelming, and she already could hardly wait to retire for the evening.
“Here we are,” Mr. Travis said as he ushered Emma into a large, bright room. Right away, Emma noticed the stark contrast between the drab, strict walls of the mansion and the pale purple wallpaper and rich red furniture of the parlor. There were vases with pink roses on every table in the room, giving the room a sweet, welcoming smell. The fireplace was dark, given the warm weather. The window at the front of the room was open, allowing a gentle breeze. The silver chandelier above glowed brilliantly with more candles than Emma could count. And sitting on a small, purple cushioned bench, sat a young girl.
As soon as the child saw her enter, she sprang up from her seat and rushed over to Emma. She had the thickest, darkest brown hair Emma had ever seen, and it bounced up and down in shiny ringlets that were piled atop her head. Her green eyes sparkled with the innocence only a child could possess.
“Good day,” she said, dipping into a perfect elegant curtsey. “My name is Victoria Sinclair, the only daughter of the duke of Buckinghamshire. Are you my governess?”
Emma smiled brightly at the child’s directness and intelligence. She had never seen such a prim and proper young girl, and it contrasted with the childlike wonder that shone in her eyes. And yet, Emma thought it suited the girl, and she returned the curtsey.
“Yes, I am, Lady Victoria,” she said, hoping she had addressed her charge correctly. “My name is Miss Emma Taylor.”
The girl nodded matter-of-factly, as though she already knew all about Emma.
“I know,” she said. “Mrs. Hodges told me that Papa had written to the vicar of Buckinghamshire and requested to speak with his daughter about being my governess. How old are you?”
Emma giggled, once more surprised at how direct the child was.
“I am twenty years old,” she said with a warm smile.
Lady Victoria frowned, surveying Emma carefully.
“I thought governesses were supposed to be old,” she said. “But you’re very pretty. Do you have a husband?”
Emma laughed, shaking her head.
“No, sweetheart, I do not,” she said. The child was, indeed, every bit as curious as she had thought she was. And Emma could see another question forming in her eyes. But before the little girl could ask, there was a clicking of a tongue from the doorway.
“Lady Victoria, that is a bit forward of you, don’t you think?” a feminine voice called.
Emma turned to see a tall, thin woman with fiery red hair and deep brown eyes looking at the child with gentle admonishment. The woman was wearing a maid’s outfit, and she sashayed into the room carrying a small teapot.
“That’s all right,” Emma said, quickly coming to her young charge’s defense. “She meant no harm. And I don’t mind answering her questions.”
The woman looked at Emma as she sat down the teapot in front of Lady Victoria. She poured a small cup of steaming milk before returning to Emma and offering a curtsey of her own.
“She is a curious child,” she said. “But where are my manners? My name is Lily Hodges. I’m the head housekeeper here at the manor, and I have been helping the nursemaid look after Lady Victoria until a governess was hired.”
Emma returned the curtsey, just as she had with the little girl, offering a warm smile.
“I am Emma Taylor, the governess,” she said. “That is, should the duke choose to formally hire me.”
Mrs. Hodges laughed, a deep, hearty sound that didn’t quite fit her slender frame.
“You show great initiative to show up to discuss the position in person,” she said. “If he doesn’t hire you immediately, I’ll assume he’s gone mad.”
Emma smiled, though her nervousness returned. She couldn’t deny that part of her hoped he would decide to hire an older woman for the job so that she could return home. But after having met young Victoria, she found herself fascinated by the girl. Perhaps, if she were hired, she would find a love for the job after all.
As the two women and the little girl continued talking, Lady Victoria’s insatiable thirst for knowledge became increasingly more evident. She bombarded Emma with questions about growing up in the vicarage, being so devout in the church and whether she had any experience with teaching. Emma told the girl about the lectures she gave to the young children during church services, as well as how she would go from home to home and read passages from the bible to comfort the poorer families in the village.
As the clock struck three o’clock, Mrs. Hodges took Lady Victoria by the hand.
“Come, milady,” she said. “We must be getting you dressed for dinner this evening.” She turned to Emma with a warm smile. “I can’t say for sure where the duke might be at this time. However, you will likely find him in his study. And if he is not, just fetch Mr. Travis and he will find the Duke for you, as I’m sure he will be eager to speak with you about the governess position.”
Emma nodded, swallowing. She hadn’t even secured the position yet, and she was being left to her own devices in the grand mansion. Lady Victoria curtseyed to her again, smiling sweetly up at her.
“Papa’s study is just down the hallway on the left-hand side of this hallway outside this door and three doors up on the right,” she said. “I do hope that Papa decides to hire you. I like you.”
With that, she turned and skipped toward the door. Mrs. Hodges shook her head indulgently, then followed the girl out of the room.
Emma took a deep breath and, once the housekeeper and the child were out of sight, she stepped out into the hall, heading in the direction that Lady Victoria had given her. Sure enough, she found the hall of which the girl spoke, so she turned and counted three doors on the right-hand side.
When she reached it, she saw that the study door was open, and she felt nervous once more. She took a deep breath, preparing to introduce herself to the duke and her potential new boss. But as she peeked into the room, she saw that it was empty. She stepped away quickly, knowing it was rude to enter the private space of a noble man or woman without their consent or their presence. She decided that she would try to find the butler. If she could find her way around the vast, grandiose Sinclair Manor.
She continued down the hall to the next open door. She could see immediately that it was a large library. There wasn’t a single wall that wasn’t lined with bookshelves, and there wasn’t a single shelf that wasn’t packed end to end with books. Awe-stricken, Emma gingerly entered the room, taken in by the splendor of the library. She herself was well read and had a deep love for books. Now, she was standing in a room full of more books than she could ever read in several lifetimes.
“May I help you?” a deep bass voice called from across the room.
With a start, Emma gasped, whipping her head around until she spotted a gentleman wearing a rich crimson suit, whose deep blue eyes were studying her curiously. He had a tall, commanding stature, and even in a casual stance, he appeared regal and refined. Emma realized immediately that he must be the Duke and she blushed at having been caught wandering around his mansion.
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she said, fumbling as she struggled to curtsey without tripping over her feet. “My name is Emma Taylor, and my father told me that you were seeking a governess.”
The duke’s face instantly brightened. He replaced the book, she just noticed he had been holding, back to the shelf and quickly crossed the room.
“You are Reverend Taylor’s daughter,” he surmised, bowing elegantly to her. “I had expected to hear word of your arrival before meeting you.”
Emma blushed, cursing her mother’s ambition.
“Forgive me,” she said again, trying not to be distracted by his regal features, which were more handsome the closer he came to her. “My parents thought it best that I present myself for the position in person, rather than wasting time on sending correspondence.”
The duke shook his head, his smile widening.
“Not at all, Miss Taylor,” he said. “You were the candidate I most hoped to hire. And you showing up to apply in person shows initiative. I commend such attributes, especially in people I seek to employ.”
Emma blushed again, searching for words. She couldn’t tell him that her parents had all but forced her to apply for the position. But nor could she truthfully tell him that she had been eager to speak with him about becoming governess for his young daughter. So, instead, she smiled and tried to look as confident and professional as she could.
“I’m afraid that I don’t have an official resume,” she said. “But I do have experience with tutelage of the scripture, specifically teaching children to read using the bible. I myself enjoy reading and learning, and my mother educated me very well, both inside and outside of religious texts.”
The duke nodded, looking distracted. He was focused on her, but she couldn’t tell if he was paying attention to what she was saying. His smile was still polite, but his eyes sparkled with curiosity. Emma decided she might be a bit too forward, and that she should allow him to ask any questions he had for her.
“I am well aware that clergy and their children are typically well educated,” he said. His words were direct, but his tone was even, almost amiable. Yet his eyes seemed to be analyzing her in a way she couldn’t quite read. “As I said, you were the candidate with whom I had most hoped to speak about the position. In fact, I have already decided that I would like to hire you. If, that is, you are still interested in working for me, after having spoken with me.”
Emma blinked, surprised. She had, in fact, barely spoken to him. And in the short time she had been conversing with him, he had already stricken her as an enigma, as her sister had mentioned. It was difficult to read him, as his facial expressions seemed to convey more than one thought or feeling at once.
However, one impression she did not get from him was that he was the ogre that Isabella had feared he would be. That she had, regretfully, thought he would be. She couldn’t be sure how strict an employer he would be. But that mattered little to her. She would do her best to ensure that she put forth nothing but her best efforts as governess.
She realized that the duke was waiting for a response from her. She blushed, cursing herself for remaining silent for so long.
“I would be honoured to accept the position, Your Grace,” she said quickly.
The Duke smiled politely again, his eyes flickering through another array of emotions.
“Very good, Miss Taylor,” he said. “If you’ll just wait here, I shall fetch Mrs. Hodges and have her show you to your quarters. If you’ll excuse me.”
The duke bowed once again, stepping past her as she curtseyed to her new employer. He truly was a puzzle, she thought as she waited for the housekeeper. And his daughter was a curious little sponge. Emma smiled softly as she thought back to her conversation with the child. But her smile faltered as she thought back to the duke’s faith in her status as a vicar’s daughter. Would she be adequate in her new role as governess?
She recalled how excited Lady Victoria had been to start working with her. Clearly, the child liked her. And she had to admit that she had taken an immediate liking to the girl, as well. It might be a rough first few days. But with such an instant rapport with her ward, along with her aspirations of providing the finest instruction for the young lady, she was confident that she could refine her skills and present her utmost efforts to Lady Victoria in due course.