Chapter 3
Chapter Three
“Imust say, I am not one who is easily impressed, Miss Finch, but in this instance… well, color me impressed!”
Miss Constance Spencer was a kindly woman whom Octavia took an immediate liking to. She was somewhere in her sixties, had a round face with rosy cheeks, big blue eyes, and always seemed to be smiling. There was a warmth to her, one that made her impossible not to feel comfortable around.
Better too, that as much as Octavia liked her, she seemed to like Octavia just as much.
“I am so glad to hear that,” Octavia said with a polite smile, careful not to appear too exaggerated as she knew that such things were sometimes looked down on in these upper echelons of society.
“I must admit, when I first walked through the doors of this lovely home, I felt…” She pinched her face in thought.
“Felt what, dear?”
“Comfortable,” Octavia said, letting her smile return. “I felt comfortable, as if I had known this home my entire life. That must sound silly to you.”
“Not at all,” she said, her smile somehow growing.
“It is just so warm and welcoming,” Octavia continued. “And I imagine that you are who I have to thank for such things.” She winked playfully.
Miss Spencer chuckled and even blushed. “Oh, I do what I can.”
“Modesty suits you,” Octavia said. “Even if I do not believe it for a second.”
Oh yes, this is going wonderfully. Better than expected! All I need to do now is not mess everything up, and this job is as good as mine.
Octavia had to work extra hard not to show how pleased she was. Just as she had to remain humble and not get ahead of herself, because the interview was far from over.
Truthfully, she had felt strangely confident about this interview from the moment that she arrived.
All morning she had been in a state of panic, not even certain that she would be humored with an interview – it was not as if she had an appointment!
She simply turned up, announced her intention to apply for the role of governess, and prayed she would be seen.
The confidence came when she was led inside, at which point the valet had explained to her how thrilled they were that she had come because, as he told her plainly, they’d had some difficulty lately finding someone to fill the role.
She was led to the morning room and introduced to Miss Spencer, and it was within minutes of meeting her that Octavia knew this job was hers to lose.
“To be honest with you, things have not been so easy here of late,” Miss Spencer sighed and let her shoulders sag. “His Grace is… he is kinder than he appears to be. He has a good heart, and he means well. Sadly, he has not been the same since…” She trailed off.
“Since what?” Octavia pressed gently.
Miss Spencer shook her head. “That matters not, and it is certainly not for me to speak of.”
“Of course.”
“Just know that half of what you have likely heard is not true.”
Octavia hid her frown as she considered this obvious warning.
She knew a little about Duke Ironvale, most of which was just rumor.
Apparently, he had been married once before, until a tragedy struck his wife, leaving him a widow.
All sorts of awful things were said about the cause of his wife’s death, many of which were surely exaggerated… or Octavia hoped they were.
All that was to say that what people said about the Duke, how cruel and cold and unkind he was, was hopefully far from the truth.
Then again, even if it was not made up, Octavia was so desperate that it made no difference to her.
“What of Master Aaron?” Octavia pressed gently. “Is there anything you might tell me of him? What is he like?”
“He is a boy like any other,” Miss Spencer said with a tight smile. “A little rough around the edges, but he means well. What he is missing is a mother, a softer touch which his father cannot give him. Why, I just know that the two of you will become the best of friends.”
“I am sure we will be.”
What I have heard of the Duke pales in comparison to that of the son. This home does seem rather pleasant, Miss Spencer is lovely, but I wonder if it is all a facade… a trick to lure me in so I cannot escape.
Not that it matters. What a depressing situation to be in, one where I have no choice, regardless of how true the rumors might be. Trick me. Trap me. So long as you hire me.
“I am just trying to think if there is anything else.” Miss Spencer scrunched her face.
“We have been over your education, your experience, and, while it is not a technical requirement, I do have a way of reading people…” She raised a discerning eyebrow at Octavia, only to break into laughter.
“Yes, just as I thought. Nothing wrong there.”
Octavia had been forced to lie about her education, easy to do as she was still well educated, even if it might not be seen as such by someone of the Duke’s standing.
Octavia’s mother was her educator, and she had taught her well enough that if Octavia had to do, she could blend in with those far above her own station as if she was born to it.
As a child, Octavia had always thought it to be a waste of time. What did she need to be so educated for? Now, she felt untold amounts of relief as even from the grave, her mother was protecting her.
“I suppose that just leave the one obvious hurdle to leap,” Miss Spencer said.
“Oh?”
“I would hire you on the spot, were it up to me,” she said. “However, His Grace has the final say. All that is to say, I think it is time that the two of you met officially. A quick introduction, he might ask any questions he has, and then I dare say you will be our new governess.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Octavia said with a warm smile.
“Lovely.” Miss Spencer rose from her chair. “If you will just wait here for a moment, I will see if I can find him.”
Octavia held her smile as Miss Spencer hurried from the morning room.
Once she was alone, Octavia allowed her gaze to drift over the rich interior of the room.
Such wealth… such opulence. While the Duke owned several estates, he liked to spend the Season in London, meaning that this townhouse was merely a holiday home, and likely nothing compared to his manor.
This room alone is bigger than the one I share with Henry. And just one painting from the walls, one of those vases, and I could live like a queen for the rest of my life!
Octavia did not ponder too much on that nonsense, however. She was not here to judge, but to be judged. The interview had gone perfectly; she was sure to be hired shortly, after which she would finally have a path open to her that might one day give Henry and herself the life they both deserved.
All she needed to do was impress the Duke…
It was as Octavia’s eyes wandered the room that the door opened. She turned, expecting to see Miss Spencer, only for her mouth to drop open because the man who entered the morning room was certainly not Miss Spencer.
It took Octavia a moment to understand why the sight of this individual struck her with such surprise.
He was tall and well built; his shoulders so wide that he almost needed to turn on his side to step through the door.
His hair was dark and thick, his face was angular and sharp, while his eyes…
they were black pits, impossibly deep, and when they found Octavia’s own eyes, they locked on and trapped her so that she could not look away.
The sensation those eyes had on Octavia was felt in her soul, a memory that sent a shudder through her spine. She frowned, leaned back, wrapped her arms around herself as if it was suddenly cold, and then she came into herself suddenly.
“You!” she cried in realization.
This man, whoever he was, was the same one she had run into just last night. The same whom she had used to distract from Marcus and his men as they chased her.
He wore a fine suit. His hair was combed. A quick glance as she noticed the expensive ring on his finger, the gold chain of a watch that hung from his pocket, and even his leather shoes, which shone in the morning light. Whoever he was, he had gone and dressed himself up as a duke!
“What are you doing here?” she hissed and jumped to her feet.
“Excuse me?”
She looked around the morning room, nerves taking her. While it was crazy to think, Octavia was taken by the sudden assumption that this man had somehow followed her here. Was he also a street ruffian? A con artist of some kind? Had he sneaked into this house to try to rob the place?
And if he is caught, what if he tells Miss Spencer how we met just last night? Surely a story like that would be enough to see me shown the door!
“You cannot be here!” She hurried toward him, keeping her voice low. “Whatever game you are playing, I do not want a part of it.”
“What game I am –”
“We do not know one another.” She stepped past him and shut the door. “In fact, we have never met.” She turned and widened her eyes as she took him in. “If you mean to steal from the Duke, do it on your own time.”
He frowned at her. “And why would I steal from the Duke?”
“I do not care! Just leave me out of it!”
Her mind whirred as she considered the situation. Miss Spencer was on her way right now to collect the Duke and bring him here. If he found Octavia and this strange man together, he would assume they had come as one, that this was all some trick to try to steal from him.
Octavia thought quickly… a little too quickly.
“That jacket! Those shoes! Take them off!”
“You might want to repeat that.”
“Here!” She rushed him and grabbed his jacket. “If we are found… I do not know what we will say. Perhaps you can try to pass as a member of staff. Hurry!” She wrenched the jacket down from his shoulders, trying to pull his arms free.
Surprisingly, he did not fight her. He appeared far too shocked for that.
“And those shoes,” she hurried him. “And that watch! How did you get in – no, do not tell me. I do not wish to know.”
“Do you mean to undress me?” he asked as he removed his jacket.