Chapter 13

Chapter 13

“Redford!” Ian walked toward the man who was standing near the fire in the drawing room. “How long have you been in the district?”

“Only a day,” said Captain Thomas Redford, bowing to him, smiling widely. “I am staying with relatives in the district for the winter.” His smile widened. “It is good to see you, Trenton!”

“And you, old friend,” said Ian, clapping him on the back. “Shall we have a brandy to celebrate your arrival?”

“Why ever not?” grinned Thomas, laughing. “Have I ever been known to refuse a brandy, especially on a bitterly cold day?”

“Never,” agreed Ian, walking to the drinks’ cabinet in the corner, pouring them both a large tumbler of brandy, before passing one to his friend. “I recall many nights when we had one too many brandies on a cold evening.”

“As do I,” laughed Thomas. “Or rather, I do not recall them.”

They both laughed, sipping their drinks. Ian gazed at him fondly. Captain Redford was his oldest friend, and his closest. They had served together in the army for a year, and then Thomas had risen in the ranks, becoming a captain, before leaving service two years ago. Now, he managed some of Ian’s affairs in London.

Thomas was efficient, resourceful, and meticulous. He was also the life and soul of any party, a dynamic, uncomplicated man… which was probably why Ian liked him so much, being far too complex himself.

“How is life at Trenton House treating you?” asked Thomas, smacking his lips, clearly enjoying the brandy. “And how is Lenore?”

Brandies in hand, they settled next to the fire. Ian sighed, shaking his head ruefully. He wasn’t sure how much to tell his best friend about how life was at Trenton House these days.

Thomas leaned forward, watching him intently. “Now that is not the reaction I was expecting!” He sipped his drink. “What has been happening?”

Ian took a deep breath. “Well, nothing much, really… Lenore is doing rather well, actually.”

“Go on,” said Thomas, smiling.

Ian hesitated, his heart thumping hard. “She has a new governess—a local woman. Miss Bomind.”

Even saying her name aloud made his heart thump harder. “Even though her methods are unconventional, and she is rather too forthright in speaking her mind, she has done wonders with Lenore. My daughter appears to have really settled with her and is most eager to learn.”

He realized the truth of his words as he uttered them. Lenore really was coming along in leaps and bounds with the new governess. His daughter wasn’t having as many temper tantrums, and whenever he looked into the library to watch her at her lessons, she was attentive and smiling.

His face reddened. He wasn’t just watching Lenore to see her educational progress. He was watching the governess, as well. He just couldn’t seem to stop doing it, no matter how much he chided himself, and told himself to stop it. It was as if he was being pulled by a magnetic force to her side.

At least you are not approaching her. You are leaving her well alone. That is progress.

“The new governess is very… spirited,” he continued, with a rueful grin. He stared at his friend. “She reminds me of Mary in that way.”

Thomas looked stunned. “Really? She sounds like a very interesting character, if she has won your approval so quickly! You usually despise the governesses, saying they are spineless, lackluster creatures, who Lenore wipes her boots upon!”

Ian grimaced, reddening more. Perhaps he had been a shade over critical about the past governesses. Or perhaps Miss Bomind was just very exceptional. It was like comparing chalk to cheese. And the most amazing thing about it was the fact she didn’t even have any formal tutoring experience at all.

“I believe that Miss Bomind is a natural born teacher,” said Ian. “There is no other accounting for her remarkable progress with Lenore in such a short amount of time.”

“You sound very impressed, Trenton,” said Thomas, with an arched smile. “I have never heard you talk in such a rapturous way about a woman since… well, since Mary.”

Ian gave a bark of laughter, feeling embarrassed. He turned and stared into the fire, not knowing what to say to his friend. Clearly, he had let his tongue run away. He shifted in his chair, mortified beyond measure.

“Do not be ashamed of it, my friend,” said Thomas, in a gentle voice. “I think it is utterly splendid to hear you talk in such a way. You usually do not speak of your feelings at all. You have completely closed yourself down since Mary’s passing.” He smiled slowly. “They do not call you the Iron Duke for nothing, you know.”

Ian scowled turning toward his friend. “I know what they call me,” he said, smiling slightly. “And I know what they say about me behind my back.” His face sobered. “Maybe I like things the way that they are… and it is probably a good thing if people fear me, Redford.”

Thomas looked askance, shaking his head. “No, Trenton. Closing yourself down is not good. It never has been.” He hesitated. “And if this new governess lets a little bit of light into your heart again… well, is that a bad thing?”

There was a tense silence. Ian’s heart was racing. Quickly, he stood up, gazing with unseeing eyes into the fire for a moment, making certain his face was composed before he turned back to his friend.

“It would most certainly be a bad thing,” he said, in a crisp voice. “She is a governess, Redford. I am a duke. Enough said.” He paused. “Now, to business matters. How goes it in London?”

***

“Oh, it is so good to see you, Emma,” cried Selene, gripping her best friend’s hands and squeezing them. “And you have the honor of being my very first caller since I became governess at Trenton House.”

Emma gave a light laugh, reaching out and kissing Selene’s cheek. “I accept the honor… and it is wonderful to see you as well, dearest.”

They sat down at the table in the kitchen. Mrs. Kittles had very kindly ordered tea for Selene and her visitor, along with some thick slices of seed cake. The housekeeper had taken Lady Lenore for a walk while Selene spoke with Emma.

Emma gazed around the kitchen, looking rather boggle eyed, while Selene poured the tea.

“It is enormous,” stated her friend emphatically. “And so very busy. Being here is rather like seeing the inner workings of a well-oiled machine.” She turned to Selene, smiling widely, as she removed her gloves. “How are you? How is the new position?”

“It is… challenging,” admitted Selene, passing a cup of tea to her friend. “Lady Lenore is as spirited as they say. She is rather like a bee in a bottle—trying to keep her still long enough to focus on her lessons is hard work.” She took a deep breath. “But she is also clever, and curious… and I think she likes me, so that is a great start.”

“Well, if anyone can tame that child, it is you, dearest,” declared Emma, nibbling on a slice of seed cake. “You are very resourceful and clever, yourself. I think your forthrightness is just the thing that the young lady needs.”

Selene felt a flush of pleasure at the praise. “I hope so. I can only do my best and hold fast to my beliefs in what is the best way forward for her.” She hesitated. “The hardest thing, really, is dealing with her father. He can be quite intimidating—his moniker is well earned, indeed.”

“Has the Iron Duke growled at you a lot?” whispered Emma, her eyes widening again. “Has he been very stern with you?”

Selene reddened, thinking of what had actually been happening between her and the duke. The testy fire between them, unlike anything she had ever encountered, that made her insides melt. The fiery kiss they had shared in the library… and how they had almost kissed again. If she hadn’t turned and fled, she knew it would have happened.

She blinked rapidly. Could she confide in Emma? Would her best friend be shocked and appalled… or would she give her some much-needed counsel?

“He has been very stern with me,” she replied eventually, taking a quick sip of her tea. “He has very strong, rather outmoded ideas about education, and we have clashed a few times about how to educate his daughter.”

Emma nodded. “That is not surprising.”

Selene hesitated, before continuing. “But… he is also very dedicated in his duties to the duchy and takes great pride in fulfilling them,” she said slowly. “I believe he truly wants to do the best for Lady Lenore and the estate… he simply struggles with being approachable.”

“I think he is a good man who has been devastated by tragedy,” said Emma, wide eyed. “That is what I think.” Her face turned pensive. “You know, this house needs a bit of light and frivolity… it needs the festive spirit. You should really try to persuade the duke to allow some Christmas decorations. It would greatly help him and his daughter.”

Selene gave a bark of incredulous laughter. “That is not likely, Emma. He despises Christmas. He sent the carolers packing. It devastated Lady Lenore.”

“You should still try,” urged Emma. “It cannot hurt to try.”

They kept sipping their tea in silence. Selene pondered her friend’s suggestion, before dismissing it. The duke would never agree to it, not in a hundred years.

“You are quiet, dearest,” said Emma suddenly, gazing at her. “Is there something else that is bothering you?”

Selene faltered, yearning to tell Emma everything about her complex relationship with the Duke, but at that moment, Mrs. Kittles returned, sighing deeply. She looked harassed.

“The little lady ran off on me and rolled in the snow,” she declared, sitting at the table with them. “A maid is running her a hot bath. She is saturated and her clothes are a mess. She will catch her death of cold if she does not warm up soon.” She sighed again. “I need a hot cup of tea.”

Selene poured the housekeeper a cup of tea, feeling a bit frustrated. Her private talk with Emma was over. The moment had been lost to confide in her friend. The conversation veered to other matters.

When Emma had to leave, Selene walked her to the courtyard, when she stiffened. The duke and a tall, fair-haired gentleman, who she didn’t recognize, were standing there, talking together. They both turned and looked at them. The duke’s eyes were pinning her to the spot.

Selene’s heart started thumping painfully. A hot flush crept up her neck.

“Who is that?” whispered Emma, gripping her arm tightly. “Who is that gentleman?”

Selene turned and looked at her friend. Emma’s cheeks were pink and her eyes bright with interest.

She is attracted to that gentleman. A quite intense, instant attraction.

To Selene’s alarm, the duke and his companion were approaching them. She took a deep breath, smoothing the creases in her gown, with slightly trembling hands. He was bound to ask why she was standing here with a friend and not in the library teaching his daughter. Was he going to growl at her in front of them?

She and Emma curtsied when they arrived. Selene tried not to look the duke directly in the eye, but it was hard. She could feel his eyes lingering upon her, causing even more heat to rise in her body.

“Miss Bomind,” he drawled. “May I introduce my good friend, Captain Redford, who is staying in the district.” He turned to his friend. “Redford, this is Miss Bomind, the new governess, who I was telling you about.”

The gentleman smiled. “It is a pleasure, Miss Bomind.” His eyes slid to the duke. “My friend could not stop talking about you and the wonders you have worked with Lady Lenore. Well done.”

Selene’s eyes widened in shock. The duke had been praising her to his friend, saying she was doing well with his daughter. She couldn’t believe it. She still couldn’t quite believe that he hadn’t sent her packing yet, after their last heated exchange when she had suggested he talk to his daughter about her conflicted feelings about her late mother. He had been luminous with anger.

The duke looked embarrassed, kicking at a small stone on the ground.

“Thank you,” stammered Selene, blushing deeply. “Lady Lenore is a bright, curious girl. She seems to be settling well with me.”

Captain Redford laughed. “She is a bright girl. She just needs the right handling. I think Lenore is like a feisty filly, who needs to be approached with care.” He turned to Emma, giving her a long look, his hazel eyes alight. “And who is this charming lady?”

“Oh,” said Selene, jumping a little. “How rude of me. This is my dear friend, Miss Wellington. Her father is the Reverend Wellington, who oversees the parish at St. Anne’s church. Miss Wellington is just leaving.”

Captain Redford bowed, smiling. “Miss Wellington. It is a pleasure.” He paused. “You are far from home. Did you walk all the way from Trenton?”

Emma laughed, her eyes bright. “It is not that far, Captain. A brisk walk over the hills. Nothing more. It is rather refreshing… it gets the blood pumping.”

“Ah, you like walking,” he replied, giving her another long, speculative look. “I rather enjoy it myself, from time to time, especially among such beauty as this landscape.” He paused. “Still, the weather is turning— there may be another snowstorm soon. Would you like a lift to the rectory in my carriage, Miss Wellington? I am heading past St. Anne’s. It would be no trouble at all.”

Selene expected Emma to refuse outright, but to her surprise, her friend gave the gentleman a quick curtsy, along with a dazzling smile.

“That would be marvelous, Captain,” she declared, batting her eyelashes. “Thank you.”

Selene repressed a smile. It appeared that both Emma and this gentleman liked each other. Captain Redford held out his arm to her friend, who took it, giggling a little, shooting covert mischievous glances at Selene as they all started walking toward the carriage, which was parked alongside the house.

Emma always wanted to have an amorous adventure with a handsome gentleman. Maybe this is her opportunity.

As the carriage sped away, Selene turned, smiling hesitantly at the duke, before curtsying quickly, walking back to the house.

“Just a moment, Miss Bomind.” His voice was commanding, and quite curt.

Slowly, Selene turned around, her heart thumping.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

He walked up to her, his eyes flickering over her. She felt the force of that powerful attraction again, taking in the breadth of his shoulders in his dark cape, his strong jawline, covered in tiny dark stubble. Hastily, she took a step back.

“Do not think I have forgotten your impertinence,” he drawled, his eyes fixing her to the spot. “I did consider dismissal, but on reflection, think that your good influence upon my daughter outweighs your brazen talk.” He paused. “But I will not tolerate such impudence in future, Miss Bomind. Are we clear?”

Selene raised her chin, her heart thumping harder, looking him straight in the eye. “Very clear, Your Grace. Thank you.”

He paused. “By the way, there will be house guests arriving soon,” he said, looking grim. “Lord Mastiff, an old family friend, and his daughter, Lady Gwendoline Pretner, are journeying to London from the north of the country and will break their journey here for a week or so. I expect my daughter to be kept out of their way as much as possible. Do you understand?”

Selene nodded mutely, barely able to breathe.

He inclined his head, before sweeping past her, brushing against her arm. It felt like he had branded her with a hot iron. She started trembling, shaking like a leaf, as a few snowflakes fluttered around her, landing on her hair and face.

She took a deep breath, before turning around and walking back to the house, rubbing her arm. This wasn’t getting any easier… and there were only so many ways to avoid contact with him. Could she stay here? Or would she be forced to leave Trenton House and her position before she had even really begun?