Page 1 of Last Night with the Duke
Chapter 1
Don’t say in private what you don’t want to hear repeated in public.
MISSMAMIEFORTESCUE’SDO’SANDDON’TSFORCHAPERONES, GOVERNESSES, TUTORS,ANDNURSES
Benedict Mercer’s impatience was beginning to grow, and it didn’t appear that the fourth Duke of Griffin’s disposition would improve, judging by the fact that there was no one in the front office when he stepped into Miss Mamie Fortescue’s Employment Agency. He removed his damp hat while noting the room was sparsely furnished with an old, inexpensive desk and a couple of chairs, but little else.
“Not even a bed of warm coals in the fireplace to take the chill off the wet day,” he grumbled to himself, holding his hat under his arm while he took off his leather gloves. Even the walls were bare of adornment, though they were littered with nails and the holes where paintings, mirrors, sconces, or something else had once hung.
That no one was in attendance at the front shouldn’t have surprised him, considering the way his luck had been running. It was bad enough hearing yesterday that rumors were swirling there might be retaliation against his sisters because of his past misdeeds, but then this morning he’d received word his aunt had taken to her sick bed and couldn’t accompany the twins for the Season. He would keep watch on them as much as possible in the evenings and make certain they didn’t fall victim to a prankster or any bachelor seeking to get even with him, but he couldn’t go to every afternoon gathering those two would want to attend.
The last thing he wanted to do for the better part of six weeks was follow his sisters around to shopping adventures, card and tea parties, and daily walks in the park. Their constant chattering, high-pitched giggles, and occasional arguments would drive him insane. He needed a chaperone for them. Preferably a strong, commanding one for those duties.
But apparently he wasn’t going to find anyone to help him with that today in this establishment.
Griffin started to turn around and walk out when he heard a woman’s voice from an inside door that was open. Someone was present after all.Good,he thought impatiently. He wanted to get this annoying business settled as quickly as possible and get on with other things he had to do. He walked toward the doorway and listened while he waited for a break in the conversation so he could announce himself.
“Clearly that’s not acceptable, Miss Pennywaite. You are a well-trained, fully capable governess and have been for the better part of a year. You should know how to handle ill-behaved children by now. What is the problem?”
Judging by the woman’s words and authoritative tone, Griffin would say she wasn’t happy with whomever she was speaking to.
“But what am I to do?” This question came from a woman who sounded on the verge of tears. “I’ve tried. He won’t obey me.”
“Then you haven’t taken control of your charge.”
“I’ve tried,” replied the timorous voice. “He refuses to listen to me and do what I say.”
“You must try harder,” came the firm answer.
Griffin eased a little closer to the doorway. The woman was not backing down. Showing no mercy to the poor soul on the receiving end of the effective lecture.
“You cannot allow a seven-year-old boy to master you, Miss Pennywaite, even if he is by all accounts the master of the house and will be an earl one day. You must take him in hand; show him you are the adult, you are the teacher. Let him know without hesitancy that he is the pupil and he will behave himself and act as a proper young man should while he is in your care or you will tie him to a chair if you must and then put him to bed without so much as a crumb of bread to eat.”
Griffin blinked at that last statement.
He heard the timid voice gasp and then sniffle before asking. “Have you done that?”
“Oh, for the love of heaven, Miss Pennywaite,” came the stronger, frustrated voice. “Of course not! Don’t look so stricken.”
Intrigued, he moved closer to the door again. Now she sounded like just the kind of woman he was looking for. He needed a passionate-talking chaperone with an eagle eye that could spot a mischief-maker a mile away. All the better if she was tall, big-boned, and wore a perpetual scowl that could scorch a man with a glance from twenty feet.
“I’ve never had to be so unkind and neither will you. You won’t actually tie him to a chair or starve him to the point of fainting, but he must believe you will by the stern look in your eyes and the unyielding tone in your voice.”
If this woman was Miss Fortescue, Griffin had come to the right place. It would take someone of this fortitude to handle his two spoiled sisters and keep them in line as well as being on the watch for gentlemen who were only out to get even with him for a wager that had left all of Polite Society and the rest of London stunned and in no mood to forgive or, it seemed, to forget.
Griffin eased to the center of the doorway and caught sight of a tall and, from what he could tell, supplely built young woman with finely molded features standing behind a desk. At first he thought she was the one getting dressed down to her unmentionables, but then she spoke and Griffin was surprised to discover she was the confident one.
“Now lift your chin and square your shoulders, Miss Pennywaite. There will be no handwringing or tears from anyone associated with this agency. You will not lose this assignment over an unruly child. You have outstanding credentials and excellent references. You are quite able for this post. I have all faith you can handle this youngster with firm diligence. But you must believe in yourself first.”
Unable to take his gaze off her, Griffin studied the woman with determined concentration. Her face was lovely. She would easily be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, if not for her appearance. Her golden-blonde hair had been severely swept into a tight chignon at her nape and covered with a square of white lace. She wore a simple, long-sleeved high-waist dress in a dull and unbecoming shade of gray velvet. A brown woolen shawl hung loosely across her slim shoulders. He guessed her age to be near thirty yet she talked with the air and authority of one much older and wiser.
Perhaps he made a movement, a sound, or maybe she simply sensed his intense scrutiny, because he caught her attention. Something warm curled deep inside him when his gaze met hers from across the room. A flicker of shock in the depths of her eyes wasn’t lost on him. Though she hid her surprise quickly behind the bold lift of her chin, a flush of pink lightly stained her cheeks, giving proof of guilt. She was unmistakably rattled for an instant to see him standing there watching her, listening to what could only be called a strong motivational speech.
She remained silent for a moment, taking in his unflinching scrutiny as intensely as he had hers. He knew she was trying to decide if he could have possibly overheard her conversation with the other woman, and if so, how much of it.
For now he’d let her wonder. He wanted to see how or if she tried to defend her rather hard perspective on what she considered the delicate woman’s shortcomings.
Griffin watched as she inhaled a deep breath and drew on that confident strength she’d been displaying since he’d first heard her speak. She cleared her throat and in a quieter voice said, “We will continue this discussion at a later time, Miss Pennywaite. I suggest you return to your post now feeling resilient and more committed than when you left. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”
