Chapter 8

Rose couldn't sleep one wink the previous night. She kept thinking about her new position, working for the mysterious duke, who was becoming more and more alluring with each passing moment.

As she lay in her bed, wide awake, she wondered how often she would be communicating with him during her employment, how often she would be in his presence.

She was strangely titillated by the thought. While others shied away from him, shocked by his scars, she couldn't look away. She was drawn to them, to the story behind them, to the man whose badge of honor they were. She was still thinking about him, wondering if he would come out to greet her as she followed Mr. Hancock through the grand halls of the manor house.

"Your primary responsibilities will involve maintaining the cleanliness and order of the main living spaces," Mr. Hancock explained as they entered a spacious drawing room filled with tasteful furnishings and portraits. "This includes dusting, polishing, and ensuring that everything is in its proper place."

The manor was just as she expected it to be, vast and impressive, each room telling a story of its own through the elaborate décor and timeless elegance. Although the duke was right. Everything was old. Everything seemed to belong to a different era. But that probably made it all the more precious, all the more valuable.

Rose nodded attentively, taking in all the details of the room and making sure to commit Mr. Hancock's instructions to memory. They slowly moved on to the dining room, where a long, polished table gleamed in the center of the room, under a crystal chandelier.

"You shall assist with setting up for meals and ensuring that the dining area remains pristine," Mr. Hancock continued. "It is of the utmost importance that the table settings are always perfect, as His Grace values a well-presented meal."

Rose nodded once again. Next, they entered the library, a vast chamber lined with tall bookshelves brimming with volumes of all kinds. She gasped at the sight, never having seen such a place.

"The library requires special attention," Mr. Hancock revealed. "His Grace has a tendency to spend a lot of time here, and the books must be handled with care. Dusting the shelves and ensuring the reading area is tidy will be part of your everyday duties."

Rose felt a sense of awe at the sheer number of books and the serene atmosphere in the room. She could easily imagine the duke there, surrounded by the quiet comfort of his books. As they continued their tour of the manor house, her attention continued to be divided between his explanations and the opulent surroundings. The place was a labyrinth of beauty, each room more captivating than the last. However, something struck her as odd.

"Mr. Hancock," Rose began, her curiosity piqued, "why haven't we seen anyone else around? I would have expected to meet some of the other staff by now."

Mr. Hancock paused, his expression growing more serious. "The duke has specific rules about where the staff are allowed to be during certain times," he explained. "Many parts of the manor are closed to them, expect for particular tasks, and the staff adhere strictly to these rules."

Rose furrowed her brow, puzzled. "I understand why you would be allowed here. But… what about me? Why am I being shown all this?"

Mr. Hancock gave her a measured look. "There are the duke's instructions. He has chosen to place his trust in you, Miss Browning. For the life of me, I cannot understand why, when you are from that place. But I never question the duke's decisions. He has given you access to areas of the manor that are usually restricted. I know what is said about His Grace in the village. I know the rumors and the stories, but somehow, against all odds, he believes that you will respect the trust he is showing you in giving you this opportunity."

The gravity in his voice was unmistakable, and Rose could sense his skepticism. It was clear that Mr. Hancock didn't share the duke's confidence in her. "I appreciate the trust the duke is placing in me," she said earnestly, meeting Mr. Hancock's gaze. "I won't let him down."

Mr. Hancock's expression remained stern; his approval guarded. "I hope so, Miss Browning. Understand that this is a unique position you are in and it comes with its own set of expectations. As long as you respect the duke's rules and the privacy of his home, you'll do well here."

The warning in his tone was unmistakable, and Rose felt the weight of his distrust. She resolved to prove herself worthy of the duke's trust, even as she wondered what had driven him to live by such strict boundaries. Determined to make the most of this opportunity, she continued to follow Mr. Hancock through the mansion.

She wasn't entirely certain what to make of Mr. Hancock's warning and evident distrust, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue and thrill at being granted access to parts of the manor where others were not. It was as if the duke had opened a small window into his world just for her, and the mystery surrounding him only deepened her fascination.

"I hope your family isn't worried any longer, now that they've seen you're fine," he made a passing comment as they walked through the corridor. "Your aunt looked particularly concerned the other morning."

Rose's thoughts flashed back to the hurried departure and her aunt's anxious face. She was quick to reassure him. "Yes, they are all fine. I also wanted to thank you for your help the other day. It was very kind of you to see me home."

Mr. Hancock nodded, though his demeanor remained formal. "It is my duty to ensure the well-being of those in the duke's service."

She wondered if he would offer his help again, but she didn't want to push it.

"Still," she smiled. "It was most kind of you."

They continued their tour, with Mr. Hancock detailing more of her responsibilities and the strict outlines of the household.

"You may commence with this room," he told her when they reached the end. "All the utensils are there by the door. Just bring them down with you when you are done here, and we shall find you something else to do."

"All right, thank you," Rose smiled. She didn't receive a smile in return. Only a curt nod, and a moment later, she was left alone.

She inhaled deeply, filled with a sense of optimism. There was nothing bleak about that house, at least not in her opinion. For her, it was a place of hope. Eagerly, she took up the broom and started swaying it around, dancing as she went and humming a familiar tune. She tried not to think about the duke, but that was impossible.

The man she had met seemed so different from the fearful and furious figure she had heard about in the village. The stories painted him as a recluse, scarred and bitter, someone who lashed out at those who dared to come near his property and disturb him in any way.

Her brother and his friends told her the story of how he threw a rock at them in an effort to scare them away, but she couldn't believe that was true. The duke she had encountered was a quiet man, thoughtful and dreadfully haunted by his own past. Yes, he was many things, but he was not the monster of local legend.

She wiped the dust from a nearby table, her mind wrestling with the contradictions. How could the man who had extended his trust to her and shown her unexpected kindness be the same man who didn't refrain from harming children? Perhaps the boys had made a mistake. The manor was large, and it was possible someone else had been responsible for that. Perhaps, Mr. Hancock?

At that moment, the first drops of rain splattered against the windows. The wind howled louder than before, rustling the trees and sending leaves swirling through the air. She paused by the window, watching the tempest form, her thoughts in the same state.

Suddenly, a cry of pain exploded from the adjacent room, and she immediately recognized the duke's voice. Was it possible that he had been close by all that time? She hesitated at first, not certain whether she should intrude, but concern quickly overcame her hesitation. She rushed over to the source of the sound, her heart pounding.

Entering the nearby room, she found the duke leaning against a bookshelf, looking frustrated. His face was tense, and his eyes held a mixture of anger and weariness.

"Your Grace?" she asked softly, lingering in the doorway. "Are you all right?"

He looked up, surprised to see her there. His stern demeanor softened, and he cleared his throat as he replied. "I'm fine, Rose. Don't worry about it."

She grimaced with even more concern. "Are you… sure you don't need any help?"

"Yes," he nodded, trying to move slowly, but it was obvious that an onslaught of pain was preventing him from doing so. "I was stupidly trying to move a bookshelf and I hurt my back in the process."

"Oh, let me call Mr. Hancock and he can—"

"No, no," he shook his head, "this is nothing new, I assure you. It happens all the time. It is the result of a war injury."

"Why don't you let me take a look?" she asked, her instincts as a healer taking over without her thinking of the impression such a suggestion would make.

"No, no, no," he shook his head even more fervently that time, slightly blushing and turning away from her as he spoke.

It was then that she realized how that must have sounded. For her to take a look at his back, he would need to disrobe. And disrobing meant… something that made her blush fervently, so she thanked heavens that he was looking away. She quickly tried to compose herself, offering an innocent explanation.

"My aunt often helps people who have gotten hurt in accidents," she said. "I know that it is not the same, but perhaps there is something that could be done."

He turned to face her again, a look of silent gratitude in his deep, unfathomable eyes. "I appreciate your concern, but the war physicians have already told me that there is nothing more to be done. It is a lifelong condition I will have to live with."

She could immediately sense that he didn't want to discuss the topic any further. Besides, he was now slowly straightening his back, pressing his palm against it. She wanted to assure him that her aunt would have some remedy for his pain, but she didn't want to pry. She had already caught him at an inopportune moment, so she thought that it would be best to simply change the topic.

"I just wanted to thank you again," she said, smiling. "For the opportunity to work here."

"I am happy I could help," he smiled back.

She hesitated to ask, but she couldn't help it. "Have you perhaps had the chance to think about my brother working here as well?"

Rose couldn't help but think that her brother was spending too much time with his friends, constantly getting into trouble. Focusing on work would hopefully keep him out of it, as well as provide their family with some much needed additional funds. However, she didn't say any of this aloud.

"Actually, I have," he nodded. She listened with eagerness to what he was about to say. "I think there are some odd jobs he could help out with. Mr. Hancock will give you more details."

"Really?" Rose gasped, incredulous. "I… I don't know how to thank you, Your Grace."

"You are welcome," he said.

At that moment, thunder exploded somewhere in the distance, making them both turn towards the window nervously. Rain was drumming against the window pane much louder than before. She only realized that now.

"I'd best finish my work and head back home," she said, still gazing out the window.

"It looks like it's going to be a dreadful storm," he pointed out. "I don't think you should risk going anywhere in this weather."

"I'll be fine, Your Grace," she smiled, but he refused to agree.

"What sort of employer would that make me?" he inquired somehow playfully. "No, no. I think it's best if you stay the night."