Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

F rederick hesitated in closing the door once he and Miss Dowding entered the room. She walked ahead, stopping in the room's center, looking forward as if she was purposefully trying to avoid his gaze. And Frederick, feeling more nervous than he had any right to feel, held the door with one hand, not entirely certain that shutting it and thus trapping them both inside, alone, was such a good idea.

It was for that reason that he left it open, striding into his study, side-stepping Miss Dowding, and then making for his desk. He sat himself down, fixing her with a stern expression because he knew that this moment required calm and command, and if he was to navigate it, he needed to be in full control of himself.

Even still… the sight of that open doorway stood as a reminder of just how precarious this situation was.

"So…" He cleared his throat. "You and my daughter."

"Wh - what of us?" Miss Dowding stood before his desk, hands folded before her, eyes looking everywhere but directly at him.

"Tell me again how you both met."

"It is as we said." She swallowed, still not looking at him. "She was sitting inside the carriage that your mother and I arrived in. Seeing her there, I joined her for a moment and convinced her that she would do better to return to her room."

"And that is the truth?"

A deep breath and she looked at him although he could see how much trouble it caused her. "It is."

"And as the two of you were making your way back inside, she tripped and fell. Is that the way of it?"

"That is as it happened, yes."

She was clearly lying, of that Frederick had no doubt. Raising a daughter as he had been doing for these past twelve years, Frederick had become rather adept at seeing through half-truths and discerning lies, and from the look on Miss Dowding's face, she was spewing them at him… and doing a rather average job of hiding the fact.

But that wasn't what concerned Frederick of the moment. His daughter and her shenanigans were a problem for another time. What he had to deal with right now was what was to be done about Miss Dowding.

"My daughter seems to like you," he observed.

She smiled softly. "I confess I do not know her so well, but she seems lovely. Truly, a wonderful little girl. You should be very proud."

"And this suggestion of hers," he continued. "What are your thoughts on the matter?"

"To be her governess, you mean?"

"Did she suggest something else that I did not hear?" he asked flatly. "Yes, to be her governess."

She scowled at the sarcasm in his response but managed to hold her tongue. "I… it is an honor to even be considered," she said evenly.

"But?"

She grimaced and then spoke carefully. "It is just that, well, the role of a governess is not one to be taken lightly—as you noted, she is to train your daughter in the ways of the ton and what is to be expected of her as the daughter of a duke. I would hate for you to choose the wrong person for such a serious role."

"And you are the wrong person, are you?"

"I never said that."

"So, you think that you are well suited for it."

"I did not say that either."

Frederick could not help but smile as he discerned Miss Dowding's meaning even if she was attempting to speak out both sides of her mouth. It was obvious, now, that she did not wish to be his daughter's governess while at the same time, she was refusing to say it outright. As to why she did not wish it?

Perhaps she did not want to disappoint Isabelle? The two had clearly formed a bond in the short time they had met, and for all his judgement of Miss Dowding's character, it was clear that she was a kind soul who didn't relish the idea of hurting his daughter. What was more, she likely knew that Frederick didn't want her in the role either, and she knew that regardless of what she said, he would refuse her.

Clever… he chuckled to himself as he watched her squirm under his stare. Make him out to be the villain while she escaped judgement. Frederick was used to being the villain, but that did not mean he enjoyed it.

"My grandmother seems to think that you are," he continued, his stare fixed on her, "and she is rarely wrong."

Her eyes went wide, but she was quick to recover. "I would hate to abandon her—your grandmother, I mean. I have been her companion two years now, and to suddenly leave her in the lurch?—"

"At her own suggestion."

"It is still not something that I relish in."

"She will be well taken care of while she stays here. Really, she has no need of a companion. Not as much as my daughter does a governess, anyhow."

"I…" She went to speak, only to close her mouth and consider. She still fidgeted with her hands, and she could barely look at him for more than a second before looking away. "I am not trained."

"That is no bother."

"For a task such as this one, someone with expertise would likely be a far safer option than I."

"So, you do not want the role?"

"I did not say that."

"And yet you have said everything else you can to denounce your candidacy."

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she looked at her feet. "If that is how you wish to interpret it, that is your decision."

"You can say it, you know. You are allowed to admit that you do not wish to be my daughter's governess. I do not mind."

"I will admit no such thing." She snapped her head up and looked at him, cocking a challenging eyebrow as she was starting to understand the game that he was playing.

"So…" He flashed his eyes at her. "… if I was to go back outside and tell my daughter that I have accepted you in this role…"

"I would be delighted about it," she said with a cocky smirk. "In fact, I insist that you do as such. That is…" Her smirk grew. "… if you want it. If you do not, I would find some way to make my peace."

"I bet you would."

Frederick could see the impasse that the two had arrived at. Neither wanted Miss Dowding as his daughter's governess, but neither was willing to accept the blame that would come from admitting it. And while Frederick knew he should have simply stood up to his daughter and told her no, he could not help but picture her earlier when she had winced at his rebuke of her and how she had shied away as if frightened.

He was sick of being the bad guy. He was sick of pushing his daughter away time and time again. Always wanting to do the right thing, there had to be a limit before the right thing became what undid him entirely. What was the point in having a daughter respected in the ton if she hated him for it? Surely, there was a middle ground?

Annoyingly, Miss Dowding refused to yield. Something which he was not at all used to…

"I see what you are doing, by the way." He pushed his chair back and stood.

Miss Dowding's body stiffened, and her eyes flicked over her shoulder as if preparing for her escape. "Doing?"

"Oh, come now," he sighed as he stepped around the table. "I know as well as you do that you have no desire to be my daughter's governess, but you do not wish to be the one to say it."

"I do not know what you mean."

He rolled his eyes as he approached her which, he realized immediately, was a terrible idea. When he had been seated, it was as if a barrier was erected between them, allowing him to keep his mind focused on the task at head. But the very second that he came closer to where Miss Dowding stood, he was reminded of the very reason he had not wished to be alone with her in the first place.

She did not shy away from him as others did. She did not back down. And while he could sense that she was afraid of him, it was not as if she feared him. More that she feared herself and what she might do or say.

Miss Dowding was different to other women. No sense that she cared one whit about his title. No indication that she cared what he thought of her. She was a wall, and he was a charging bull, and as he strode towards her, it became a question of which would buckle first.

"You do not think very highly of me, do you?"

She frowned. "That is your interpretation, not mine."

"And my daughter?" He stopped short of her, less than three feet away. Often, when he stood this close to a lady, she might take a step backwards or lean away as if his very presence was a force that pushed her back. But Miss Dowding held her place, even pointed her chin as she met his gaze. "Tell me, what do you think of our relationship."

"I—" She caught her tongue. "I have not seen the two of you together often enough to make a comment on such a thing."

He laughed. "You think I treat her unfairly."

"I did not say that."

"That is the thing about you, Miss Dowding. You have a unique ability to say so much with so few words spoken. Maybe not a mute. ….." He flashed his eyes at her, and her stare hardened. "… but that seems to matter little."

"And you have a unique ability to purposefully ignore everyone around you, regardless of the common sense they try and provide, because at the end of the day, you have managed to convince yourself that only your opinion matters, so who cares about what anyone else has to say?"

"Like my daughter, you mean?"

"I did not say that," she spoke through a clenched jaw, that stare of hers filled with fire, "but if that is the way you wish to interpret it, I think that says about as much as anyone else can."

There it was. That same rancor that she held for him from yesterday. He could see it in her eyes. He could sense it pouring from her very being. Trying so hard not to overstep the line but unable to control herself because she was too stubborn and fiery to do such a thing.

But the line teetered before her, dangerously close. And with the way that she was glaring at him, Frederick felt his own sense of composure slip because, oh, how he wished to see how far he could push her.

"Make no mistake, I love my daughter. All I want is what is best for her." He stood over Miss Dowding now, looking down at her, unblinking and commanding in a way that would have most shying away.

"You have a strange way of showing it."

"By asking someone who is clearly perfect for the role to be her governess?"

"And I told you, I would love nothing more. The choice is up to you."

"Just admit it…" he growled and took a step closer, expecting her to shy away but not at all surprised that she did not. "… you have no desire for the role. You would hate it. Admit it now, and I will happily tell my daughter as such."

"The only thing I would hate would be having to spend more time with you." He could sense her body shaking as she worked to keep her emotions under check. "That is a fate worse than any I can imagine."

"Is that right?" He stiffened.

"Perhaps I should take the role. At least that way your daughter might be afforded a few hours a day where she does not have to worry about a… a bully of a father trying to control every facet of her life."

"So, you want the job?"

"I. Did. Not. Say. That."

As a duke, Frederick had been raised to understand that discipline and self-control were not an option in the way that he held himself but as expected as breathing. His coldness and his dispassion were direct consequences of this way of life. It helped too that most people were afraid of him, never standing up to or challenging what he said and wanted. It meant that he was rarely, if ever, tested.

Miss Dowding was a different breed entirely. She did not baulk. She did not cower. She did not care! She challenged him in a way that nobody else had, and it infuriated him as much as it turned him on.

He could sense it happening as he held her eyes. He could literally feel his arousal peaking as he bore down on her, trying to bend her to his will while being rebuffed. This went beyond wanting her to comply with him. This was about an entirely different type of control.

Before he could stop himself, his hand shot out and grabbed her waist as he had the last time the two had spoken. She gasped but did not pull away. If anything, she stepped in closer, seeming to dare him as his grip tightened on her.

"What did I tell you?" he growled at her. "The last time we spoke."

"Nothing I care to remember," she shot back, licking her lips as she continued to glare at him.

"I told you that you were playing a dangerous game. One that, if you kept at it, would you see you get hurt."

"Is that why you bit me?" she asked, her voice dropping. "A warning?"

His chest tightened, and his eyes flicked to her ears… and then her neck. When he had bitten her last time, it had been on impulse, and he had been unable to help himself because he had needed to show her that he was not one to be played with. And now…

"Admit that you do not wish for this role. Say it, so I can tell my daughter that you have turned her down."

"No."

He could feel himself begin to sweat, and his grip on her waist tightened. "I am not used to being denied. Especially by guests of my own household."

"And I am not used to be manhandled."

"Perhaps you ought to be."

"Perhaps I should scream?"

"Finally, putting that tongue of yours to good use," he responded through his teeth. "It would be the first time."

"Oh, it has other uses, I assure you."

"Is that right?" he chuckled.

Her eyes went wide. "I did not mean—I was simply referring to its use regarding defending myself against your boorish insults."

"Is that so?"

"What else could I possible mean?"

His body was shaking, and he could feel himself sweating through his clothes. The urge to lean down and tear into her neck was real. The desire to shut that door and ravish her until she succumbed to his demands was more than he could handle. And as he looked from her neck to her plump lips, Frederick knew there was little he could do to stop himself.

"I have seen the way you look at me," he said, unable to stop himself.

She half-pulled away without seeming to want to. "I do not know what you are speaking of."

"Do not pretend that it has not crossed your mind," he growled. "What it might be like to put those lips and that tongue to actual good use for a change."

Her lip curled in anger. "I would rather have my tongue pulled out than consider such a thing."

"What a waste of a good tongue."

"That is not?—"

"So, if I was to kiss you now…" He stepped in closer, right on top so that their two bodies were almost one. "… what would you do?"

"Why don't you try it and find out." She flashed her eyes at him in warning, as if she meant to slap him across the face if he dared. And yet, she still stayed close and was not fighting him now was she looking as if she meant to.

"What did I just say about denying me?" And then, unable to stand it any longer, he pulled her into himself, unsurprised that she didn't so much as feign resistance.

Their lips met in a glorious clash of skin and saliva and tongue. Their bodies pressed together as if melting into one. Both hands on her waist, he squeezed as tightly as he could while biting into her lips and growling while she thrashed and tore her head back, only to then plunge forward again and kiss him as if her life depended on it.

It might have gone on forever if a crash from outside didn't snap them back into the moment. Enough that Frederick's eyes shot open, seeming to come into himself just as Miss Dowding did the same.

She pushed him away and stumbled, wiping at her mouth as if she had swallowed poison.

"How dare you!" she snarled.

"Me?" he chuckled, heart still pounding, temper flaring. "Do not pretend that you did not want it."

"I most certainly did not!"

"You have a strange way of showing it, Miss Dowding."

Her eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to snarl, only for Frederick's mother to suddenly appear in the doorway.

"Well?" she said, a quick look at the two but unable to take them in properly, for Isabella came flying into her. "Oh!" she yelped as the little girl's arms wrapped about her.

"Did she say yes?" Isabella cried. "Did she?"

Frederick's eyes went wide as he looked at Miss Dowding for confirmation. She looked back at him, mouth open like a fish trying to breathe on land. They had decided nothing! And with Isabelle buzzing excitedly, Frederick thought as quickly as he could.

"We came to a compromise," he said, his tongue working faster than his mind could keep up. "Miss Dowding is in no way suited to be your full-time governess."

Isabella let go of her grandmother. "But?—"

"But…" Frederick spoke over her, "… it will take some time before I can find a proper replacement for Miss Wanton. Which means that for the next few weeks at least…" He avoided looking at Miss Dowding entirely. "… Miss Dowding will happily fill that role."

"Really?!" Isabella squealed. "You mean it! Does he, Caroline?"

It was clear that Caroline was as caught off guard by the announcement as Frederick was to have made it. A compromise? Frederick did not compromise! And yet, for the first time perhaps ever, he had been forced to do such. Miss Dowding… like a venomous spider, she had ensnared Frederick in her web, and it was all he could do to keep her at bay lest she devour him in ways that, to be honest, were more tempting than he liked to admit.

"Ye— yes," Caroline stammered. "Temporary, of course. Only a few weeks."

"Yay!"

"Wonderful," his mother said and clapped her hands together. "Personally, I am just glad to see the two of you getting along." She looked between Frederick and Miss Dowding. "Truly, I wasn't entirely certain that you would. But I suppose I need not worry."

"Of course, mother. ….." Frederick was quick to compose himself, even if he could feel the sweat through his clothes. "Miss Dowding is a wonderful choice of companion, and I am sure she will make an excellent, temporary governess. Right, Miss Dowding?"

She was glaring at him as she spoke but was quick to recover. "I could not agree more. Truly, I cannot wait to start." Another quick glare thrown in his direction, cut off as Isabelle charged the woman and threw her arms around her in an embrace.

This was only temporary… it was only for a few weeks… there was nothing to worry about. Frederick repeated these words in his head, forced to admit that never in his entire life had he told himself lies such as this.