Page 18 of The Governess and the Brooding Duke
‘I am fair,’ he said. ‘And I give praise when it is due. If you do well, I will not withhold approval.’
She searched for a tart reply and could not find one.
It felt as if she had lost. And still, the only words she could find were, ‘Thank you, Your Grace.’
‘Tomorrow. I will see you in this very spot.’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’
Chapter Four
The sharp knock on his study door was a full two minutes earlier than expected. He had a feeling she was early on purpose.
He had thought about her today, while he had seen his correspondence, fielding requests from his wife’s cousin to come for dinner.
He had no good reason to refuse, and so had dashed off a response, and was certain that he could expect them at the end of the week.
But she had stuck in his mind.
The way that she had responded to him last night when he got too close to what she didn’t wish to speak of. She was guarded, and he wanted to get beneath that defence.
She worked for him, and he needed to know the manner of woman caring for his children.
It was not because one look from her green eyes was like the point of a blade digging beneath his skin.
It was not because the vision of her face had been with him over the course of the day.
‘Come in.’
The door opened, and when she walked in it was as if the study became more vibrant. Her red hair was pinned back ruthlessly, and she was wearing a green dress which was yet again just a bit outside of fashion. He wondered if she had bought new clothing when she had first joined the Earl’s family and had not made any replacements since. He knew enough about women’s fashion. His wife had been perfectly dressed at all times. The height of fashion. Her dark hair always arranged perfectly and wearing only colours that set off her particular brand of beauty.
Jane had caught his attention from the very first moment he’d seen her. If only that had been enough.
‘You’re still here,’ he said.
‘Where else would I be?’
‘My children have driven out every other governess they’ve had since the death of their mother. I have no reason to believe that you will be any different.’
Her green eyes became hard like emeralds. Glittering and profoundly beautiful. ‘I am different.’
‘What do you have to report for the day?’
She looked to the side, and then walked towards one of his bookshelves. Her movements were slow and deliberate. The set of her shoulders was proud, like a soldier. The issue with the way she wore her gowns was it made it very difficult to get an idea of the shape of her body. Her breasts were generous, he could see that much, but the full skirts flowed too easily over the rest of her curves. The garment she wore beneath the gown concealed her skin where he might enjoy the sight of her lush bosom.
She was his employee, and he should not have these thoughts.
He never had before. He was not simply controlled in action, but in everything else. He did not even struggle with temptation, so ruthlessly had he divided his life into segments.
So deeply did he know the rules.
She was smooth, and utterly contained today, and he resented that. More than he could say.
It made him want to push.
Yesterday, he had succeeded in angering her, and when he had, some of that composure had fractured.
She talked back to him. No one did that. Not a single person who worked for him, no one in society, not even Jane.
