Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Selene took a deep breath, trying to quell her nerves, as she followed the footman, who had introduced himself as Robbie, through the kitchen at Trenton House. She tried not to gape, but it was extremely hard. She had never seen anything like this in her life.

The house itself was huge and incredibly impressive—at least three stories high, with battlements and turrets soaring into the sky. It also sprawled over at least a quarter of an acre.

Her family’s modest, tiny cottage would fit at least ten times over into the space of the main house. And that wasn’t even including all the outer buildings, such as the servants’ quarters and the stables.

It was like a palace out of a fairy tale. It seemed so strange that the family that lived here was only a gentleman and his young daughter, rattling around this great house. She knew families with seven children who crammed into a twentieth of this space.

How is it possible?

She shook her head incredulously, trying to focus. The kitchen and rooms attached to it were built like a rabbit warren. There were people rushing around in a businesslike manner—women in crisp maid’s uniforms, with snowy white caps on their heads, and men in livery, barking commands.

The kitchen was a hive of activity; a row of kitchenhands kneading bread, stirring pots, whisking eggs in bowls. The head cook was shouting, looking very harassed. Selene took a deep breath, feeling her nerves multiply. It was daunting even being in such a place, never mind the thought of working and living here.

At least being there was distracting her from the thought of the tall, handsome, rude man who had caused the destruction of the gifts for the orphanage. She had tried to salvage them, but they had all been broken or were so saturated they were entirely ruined. It broke her heart.

I cannot give ruined gifts to the orphanage. The children will have no gifts on Christmas morning.

She sighed heavily. To her annoyance, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that rude man all morning. There was anger, as there should be, but there was also a quickening of her pulse that she had never experienced before. It was as if she had been struck by lightning. It was most peculiar.

“Here you are, miss,” said Robbie, the footman, with a quick smile, as he led her into a small, plain room, which thankfully was away from the chaos and noise of the kitchen. “Mrs. Kittles will be along shortly.”

Selene nodded, thanking him. The man left, closing the door behind her. She gazed out the small window, watching a groom leading a sleek black horse along by a rope. She frowned.

The door opened and Mrs. Kittles, wearing a crisp gray gown with a frilly white cap on her head, came into the room, smiling broadly at her.

“Welcome to Trenton House, Selene,” said the housekeeper, in a brisk voice. “My, you look very nice in that blue gown!”

Selene tried to smile at the compliment. She had dithered about what to wear to the interview all morning, changing gowns three times. Eventually, she had settled upon the blue gown she had worn to her cousin’s wedding, adding a collar of lace to make it look more businesslike, before quickly pulling her hair back into a sleek bun, in her approximation of what she thought a governess might look like.

I feel like an imposter. I am not a governess. Who do I think I am fooling by trying to do this? Do I even want to do it?

“Thank you, Mrs. Kittles,” she replied, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “How many people are you interviewing for the position today?”

The housekeeper sat down, gazing at her steadily, but didn’t reply. Selene’s eyes flickered uncertainly.

“Mrs. Kittles?” she said eventually. The woman looked miles away in her mind.

Mrs. Kittles jumped. “Oh! I am sorry, Selene.” She exhaled slowly. “Actually, I have a confession to make.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “You are the only candidate for the position.”

Selene’s eyes widened. “Pardon?”

“There were three other candidates,” she said slowly. “But they all made excuses, cancelling their interviews.” She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “It seems the reputation of our ill-behaved little lady has preceded her, and no one wants to take her on.”

Selene blinked rapidly. “I see.”

“Yes,” said the housekeeper, clasping her hands together, and gazing at Selene. “And that means that I am very pleased to offer you the position, my dear. Of course, you will still need to get final approval from the duke, but that should be a mere formality, given the lack of other candidates.” She shrugged again.

Selene gasped, her head spinning. She had tried to prepare for this interview, anticipating the questions that Mrs. Kittles and the duke might ask her, formulating her responses in her mind.

But it appeared that her diligence had been for nothing. Mrs. Kittles hadn’t asked her a single question. She was being offered the position on a plate, so to speak.

How can this be? I have no experience as a governess! I am as green as the grass. And I still haven’t decided if I even want it…or will be able to handle it.

Selene couldn’t help but wonder. If experienced governesses are running for the hills from this job, then how on earth could she handle it?

Lady Lenore is going to eat me alive!

She knew the little girl—or lady, as she was—was only about nine years old. How could a girl so young be so terrifying? What did she do to all her previous governesses that had sent them packing?

Oh dear. I thought that I would have to wait days to hear back about whether I was successful in getting the position or not. And now, I must decide instantly whether I do indeed want it and am able to take it on.

She felt sweat dripping down the back of her neck. Mrs. Kittles was gazing at her expectantly. The housekeeper was waiting for a reply.

Do not be foolish, Selene. Your family desperately needs the income.

She could only try. If she found the position impossible, she would leave, just like the other governesses before. No one would blame her. But she knew she would be a silly woman indeed to walk away from such an opportunity.

The strident voice in her head was strong. Selene knew she must listen to it and push her misgivings aside. She must make up her mind this instant.

“I am very happy to accept the position, Mrs. Kittles,” she replied, forcing a smile onto her face. “Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity.”

There. It was done. She couldn’t quite believe it.

“Oh, I am so pleased, my dear!” cried the housekeeper, her face wreathed in smiles. “As I said, we still need to talk to the duke before it is finalized, but I do not anticipate any problems.” She took a deep breath, gazing at Selene warmly. “You are beautiful, intelligent and articulate. He can’t have any objections to you, even if you are inexperienced. I will request an audience with him now. Wait here.”

Selene nodded as the housekeeper got up, leaving the room. Her head was spinning, and her hands were shaking. She had accepted the position at Trenton House and was now waiting for final approval from the duke himself.

I am about to meet the Iron Duke. What will it be like? Oh Lord, how am I going to manage any of this at all?

***

Ian stood at the window in the parlor, gazing out the window. He gritted his teeth. Fresh snow had fallen overnight, and the ground was five inches thick with it. He doubted very much that he would be getting out for a ride today. He was housebound.

Damnation. He despised being cooped up in the house and unable to ride. Although he supposed he must wait around to hear from the housekeeper about the new governess anyway. The latest one.

His hand fell from the curtain, striding to the fireplace, a wave of intense irritation washing over him. He was extremely tired of dealing with governesses. None of the silly creatures seemed to have the backbone to deal with Lenore, which was utterly ridiculous. She was an eight-year-old child. How fearsome could she be?

If you spent any time with her, perhaps you would know why governesses keep leaving Trenton House. There must be a reason, after all.

Firmly, he pushed the insistent voice in his head aside. It wasn’t his daughter’s fault. It was the fault of the silly women. It was their job to control his daughter and to teach her.

They weren’t dealing with a tribe of children—Lenore was their only pupil, and they still couldn’t manage it. Ian despised incompetence. And governesses seemed to be more incompetent than any of his other servants combined.

He gazed into the flickering flames of the fire. Suddenly, a vision of the beautiful chestnut-haired young woman with the wild green eyes from last night reared into his mind, as clear as day. He could almost reach out and touch that furrow between her brows when she had been scolding him.

Why are you thinking of her again? Why can’t you get her out of your mind? She was insolent to you. You don’t even know who she is. You will never see her again in your life…

The voice kept going in his head, but he wasn’t listening to it. His blood was warming at the mere thought of her, and he felt his loins stirring. It had been so long since he had such a strong reaction to a woman that he couldn’t even remember it. Or rather, he could remember it so clearly that it was an ache in his chest.

Mary, laughing, her auburn hair glinting in the flickering candlelight, slowly pulling up her nightgown over her legs, falling back onto the bed, beckoning me to come to her…

Ian growled in his throat. He didn’t want to remember the last time he had made love to his late wife. It was far too painful, even though it was over ten years ago now. Even though Mary had been in her grave for so many years now she was nothing but dust.

It is my fault she is gone and left our daughter without a mother. If only I had gotten her back to Trenton House earlier. If only I had realized that she was in full labor and that there would be complications. If only we hadn’t journeyed to her family for Christmas and had just stayed home. If only …

Ian squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the dreadful memories of that day. He had lost his wife and gained a daughter on the same day. The same day that another baby had been born, thousands of years before.

Christmas Day. No wonder he despised it and couldn’t bear mention of it at all.

But thinking about that led him back to thinking about the spirited, beautiful young woman, telling him off soundly, her Christmas gifts for the orphans lying ruined in the snow. His heart shifted. No, he couldn’t afford to feel sympathy, or remorse, or anything at all. The only way he managed to keep functioning at all these days was by cutting off all feeling except anger, which was his lifeblood now.

He knew what they called him behind his back. He was the Iron Duke. A gentleman so cold and harsh that it was as if he was made of metal, not flesh.

It is appropriate. I even like it. Not that I would tell anyone that, of course.

There was a sound behind him. He turned around. Mrs. Kittles, the housekeeper, was standing there, her hands folded in front of her. She curtsied deeply.

“Yes?” he barked. “What is it?”

The housekeeper rose. “Your Grace. I have a suitable candidate for the position of governess. Shall I bring her in?”

Ian sighed, rolling his eyes, but nodded. The sooner this was over and done with, the better. If the weather cleared, he might even get out for a ride today, after all.

“Send her in,” he commanded, walking to the center of the room.

He suppressed another shudder of irritation. So, there was going to be another governess. It meant nothing to him, other than annoyance that the damn creatures had to be continually replaced. He took a deep breath, staring at the door, as the housekeeper went to fetch her.

A petite woman in a blue dress walked into the room following the housekeeper. Ian’s eyes widened in surprise and his loins leapt involuntarily. He just managed to suppress a gasp of shock. He hadn’t been expecting this at all.

It was the beautiful woman who had given him a tongue lashing the night before. And she was gazing at him with equal shock in her green eyes.