Page 4 of The Governess and the Brooding Duke
A life as a wife. A life in the church. A life as a harlot.
A life as a servant.
In any case, a life lived in supplication to a man.
Yes, she knew ofthesubject.
‘I speak as a woman in the world,’ she said. ‘Not a lady, but one who has had to answer these sorts of difficult questions. How I am to survive? How I am to make my way? I wished to be educated and felt my success would best be found in England. Forgive me again, Your Grace, but if my desire were to fool a man why ever would I take a position with his children, where I am least likely to ever see him?’
He turned to her fully. ‘You speak as though you do not hold men in the highest of regards.’
‘I do not have to, the entirety of the world does it for me.’
She was on the verge of being thrown out of the room, there was no reason for her to hold her tongue. If he wished to have honesty she could give him a sliver of her truth, and even that, she had the feeling would be too much for a duke.
He would send her away directly, she had no doubt.
She was nearly certain he would do so anyway. It was why she was letting herself speak so freely now.
The truth was, her position as governess allowed her to avoid speaking to men almost entirely. She preferred it that way. She did not allow men to look down their nose at her. And she would not allow this one to do so, even if he were a duke. This, she understood was part of the problem with her not being English. She did not have an innate respect or understanding of the power structure here. She had learned it, she participated in it, she was beholden to it, as was everyone here. But she could not bring herself to be filled with natural awe.
She had lost him, and she could feel that. She also knew that the next moments would betray what manner of man he was. She waited. Looked for that particular glint in his eyes. The one that would betray whether or not he was anticipating her begging for the position. For his good graces. In which case she would see herself out. She refused to work for a man who took joy in the degradation of others. Who took joy in the degradation of women.
There was a difference between being a man of lofty position, who enjoyed the power that came with it as a passive side-effect of the position. And a man who enjoyed it because it meant others were beneath him and had to beg for that which they might receive.
There was a sort of man who was always mindful of which person in the vicinity they might overpower. Whether it be by rank or brute strength.
The truth was, whether the man was a duke or a peasant, the answer was alwaysa woman. No matter who else he might have dominion over, physically, any man, regardless of wealth or status could have it over any woman. She was always aware of that. And it was why she always watched a man’s eyes. To see what manner of predator she was dealing with.
All men had the capability. But not all men relished this fact.
The Duke’s eyes were cool. It was nearly impossible to discern what he might be thinking. Whether he was contemplating throwing her out, offering her a job, or...
She would not give shape or voice to the other thought hovering around the edges of her mind.
She waited. Waited for him to tell her to leave.
‘I do not require that you hold me in high regard, Miss Smith,’ he said. ‘But I do require a qualified governess. One who will treat my children properly and see to their education. Is everything in this letter in regard to your education factual?’
That shocked her, but not enough to silence her.
‘Yes. The only thing not present in that letter is my background before I came to England. I was not educated prior to my arrival here. But I have since made up for that. I was in the top of my class at school. I speak French as well as German.’
‘And you are quite an accomplished mimic when it comes to accents.’
‘I thank you for your notice. Though not accomplished enough that you did not perceive something amiss.’
‘Don’t take it to heart. I have a reputation for being impossible to lie to.’ He looked away for a moment, and then back at her. ‘I do not care if you’re from Scotland, and you make a good argument for why your particular lies—deception, I should say—aren’t relevant to the current situation. Were I in a position to delay finding a governess I would send you away simply on principle. I hope you understand.’
She didn’t respond to that, because her only response was tart. And she felt she had likely rather overextended herself in that regard.
His lips curved. Just slightly. As if he had correctly interpreted her silence.
And as his lips curved, it was as if he touched her. Featherlight. In that same curved, sweeping motion and her breath was lost to her.
Was this simply the innate power of a duke?
It couldn’t be anything else. Not for her.
