Page 5 of Last Night with the Duke
He didn’t move an inch from his uncompromising stance, and his gaze didn’t leave her face. “But you are trained and fully capable, are you not, Miss Swift?”
Esmeralda wasn’t sure if he was giving her a compliment or merely stating what he felt was the obvious, but she responded, “Of course. Quite capable. I couldn’t properly supervise the women who work out of this agency if I didn’t understand their duties.”
“I thought so.”
He glanced around the room for the second time. Esmeralda watched his striking blue gaze take in the worn, aged furniture, the unadorned front window, the barren walls, and the unlit fireplace. There was no doubt that just as he had assessed her, he was now assessing the office.
There had been nothing she could do after Mr. Fortescue had stripped the building clean. She had no money for appropriate furnishings. When he’d approached her about leasing the business and the two-story building from him and paying him from the earnings each month, she’d assumed the office decorations would be included. She had wrongly presumed many things, including that the man was honest in his dealings with her.
“I must admit that I’ve never actually been a chaperone. I was a governess for eight years before taking responsibility for the agency.” As Esmeralda said the words a sudden sadness gripped her as it had when the duke had mentioned the ghosts of one’s past.
At first, it hadn’t been easy for her to go from having a governess when she was a child to becoming one when she turned nineteen, but that was the life she’d been dealt after her mother had become an outcast in her own family. Once Esmeralda had realized there was no other alternative, she’d shouldered the responsibility and determined to be good at it. She hadn’t needed much training, already knowing exactly what was expected of a governess.
“Tell me, what happened to Miss Fortescue?” the duke said.
Esmeralda shook off the offending memories and replied, “I’m sorry to say she passed on and left the building and agency to her nephew. Knowing nothing about a business such as this, he asked if I would like to lease the agency, administer it, and keep everyone employed for him. I agreed.”
“How long ago was that?”
It seems like forever,she thought, but said, “Just shy of a year.”
“And you’re doing well?”
“Well enough,” she hedged, knowing that was far from the truth. And judging by how high the duke’s brows rose—and much to her chagrin—he knew it too.
His gaze scanned the sparsely and poorly decorated room one more time, zeroing in on the unlit fireplace before he settled his attention back on her face. She knew he must be thinking that anyone who had a bit of fuel at their disposal would have a fire lit on such a cold and dreary day. More from a feeling of protection than chill, Esmeralda wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She may not have much, but she did still have her pride.
To keep from appearing completely foolish by her guarded comment, she added, “It’s been a struggle from time to time, but nothing I haven’t been able to manage so far.”
The duke acknowledged her comment with a slight nod and said, “I’m glad to hear that you are managing.”
Barely,she thought.
Because of Mr. Fortescue’s false reporting of the agency’s income, Esmeralda had agreed to pay him way too much each month for the right to manage the agency and live in the small residence above stairs. At the time, the steady employment and a place to live was a godsend. By the time her second payment was due, she was well aware of the fact the man hadn’t been honest with her about how much money the business brought in each month.
Esmeralda was good with sums and after triple-checking her arithmetic she realized Mr. Fortescue must have shown her a false set of books. He had inflated the income by at least three times what actually came in from the ladies who worked for the agency. When she took him to task over the discrepancy, he’d only laughed and told her he was more than willing to throw her out and obtain someone else to oversee the business and render payment to him.
There was no way she could have known she couldn’t trust the man to be fair and honest. She had worked for Miss Fortescue for more than eight years and considered the woman’s reputation above reproach. Not so for her heir.
It was taking every penny the agency brought in just to pay him and buy a little food. All her winter debts remained owing, including the coal bill, which was the reason there was no warmth in the large room on such a cold and wet afternoon. She still had plenty of oil for the lamps and tallow for candles, but they offered very little warmth.
Esmeralda had to pay Mr. Fortescue first. He was a merciless man. She had no doubt that if she failed to make one payment, he would make good on his promise to throw her out and find some other unsuspecting woman to lease his agency with his false kindness and fraudulent bookkeeping records. Besides, she had nowhere else to go.
The duke said, “I’d like you to start as chaperone tomorrow morning.”
As she should have expected, the duke wasn’t used to taking no for an answer. She knew well that peers were seldom toldnoby anyone. A small part of her would have liked to decline the handsome duke with relish, but she must tread carefully in how she spoke to him. Already she’d been too impertinent and outspoken with him at times. Placing an employee in his household would bring in some desperately needed income. She couldn’t possibly do the job for him, but she had someone available who could. So she would keep her disdain for the peerage to herself.
“I apologize, Your Grace,” she said, using her placating tone. “I’m afraid I didn’t explain myself well. I’m not available to work in homes. My presence is needed here.”
He took an easy, confident step toward her and closed the distance she’d put between them. Esmeralda’s natural instinct was to back up again, but she forced herself to stay still.
Never taking his gaze off hers, he leaned in and reached around her, placing his hat on the desk behind her. He came so close she caught the clean, enticing scent of shaving soap. She felt warmth from his strong body. It heated her as thoroughly as a blazing fire on a freezing night. The fine fabric of his cloak brushed lightly across her arm. A scintillating sensation tightened her chest and tingled through her breasts. Her lower stomach contracted as she breathed in deeply.
He looked down into her eyes with what could only be called intense interest. “I understood you perfectly. I don’t accept your answer. You are the one I want.”
You are the one I want.
He said it again, and started her heart spinning out of control—again. She took a calming breath and, much to her consternation, had to remind herself that he wanted her to care for his sisters and for no other reason.
