Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
It was almost sunset, so Octavia had to hurry.
She had just left Aaron with Miss Spencer, who asked that she do so because she needed to get him ready for supper.
As strange as it was to think, Octavia was almost sad to see her time come to an end with Aaron.
Sure, he was troublesome, he was purposefully disobedient, and he seemed to take pleasure from annoying her.
But they had spent many hours together today, and finally Octavia felt as if she was getting a handle on how to properly control the young child. What was more, she had come up with a rather brilliant strategy that she was certain would help to rein him in even more.
It is not discipline that the child needs. It is not a firm hand. What he craves more than anything is attention, only he does not know what that means. Growing up alone as he has done, he mistakes bad attention for good, and what I need to do is show him the difference.
So it was that she landed on this idea of hers. All she needed was permission from the Duke to enact it. Hence, her hurrying.
When she reached the outside of the Duke’s office, she paused and took a calming breath.
It was not yet nighttime, so she was perfectly within her rights to see him – this still fell well within the rules he had given her.
But even was she not worried that he might be annoyed, Octavia’s body trembled at the mere thought of being alone with the Duke again.
He was just so intimidating. Worse, he knew it, and he did it on purpose. The same way his son enjoyed upsetting her, the Duke enjoyed reminding her of where she stood… that being, at the very bottom.
Another calming breath and she knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” his deep voice growled.
“It is Octavia…” She exhaled again. “Miss Finch.”
A pause. Her body continued to tremble. Through the closed door, she sensed his annoyance at being disturbed…
“Come in,” he commanded.
Octavia did not hesitate, figuring it was best to get this out of the way quickly. She had no desire to spend more time with the Duke than was needed, and hopefully, after this singular meeting, she might be able to avoid him completely.
The office was typically dark, and that darkness grew more so the deeper the office stretched.
There, the Duke sat at his table, his hulking frame seeming to take up more space than was possible.
He was a shadow growing from the desk, a commanding presence that she wanted to look away from but was drawn to.
Octavia’s entire body shook as she stepped into the office, and she was sure to stay back as if afraid to get too close.
“Thank you for seeing me,” she said, her voice cracking. “As you will notice, it is not yet nighttime. I am still within my rights to see you.”
He glanced at her with apathy before bowing his head and focusing on his work. “If it were after dark, I would not have let you in.”
“Just making sure you are aware.”
“And if you continue to point out the obvious, night will fall, at which point you will be breaking your promise to me.” He glanced at her again, held his stare so that she felt it, and then looked back down. “Whatever this is about, I suggest that you hurry.”
Octavia’s expression hardened. Once again, she got the clear impression that he was being purposefully short with her. Was he trying to upset her? Or was this just his natural way of being?
It does not matter, Octavia. Say what you came here to say and leave.
“It concerns your son,” she began quickly. “Aaron. I… I spent today with him, several hours in fact. And while we managed to get along rather well, I do worry about what will happen once our lessons begin.”
She waited for him to say something, but he continued to look at his work. As he did, his quill scratched, and his breathing was heavy.
“He is excitable,” she continued. “Filled with energy the likes of which…” She laughed.
“He is seven, so most of what he does and why he does it, he is not aware. This has led me to believe that the reason he acts the way he does, how rambunctious and troublesome he is, is on account of his need for attention.”
Again, she waited for the Duke to speak, and again he continued to work. The scratching of that quill could be felt across the room.
“He is also lonely,” she said. “My feeling is, if he had a playmate, someone his age to entertain, it might go some way toward calming him down. Often, children steal their energy from those they spend time with, and a calmer head of the same age could help with his focus.”
She looked at the Duke, and still he ignored her.
“So, I was thinking, when my lessons start, it might be a good idea if my brother, Henry, joined us. He is one year older than Aaron, but that is a good thing. He is also well-behaved, knows how to listen, and will likely compel Aaron to do the same.”
The Duke said nothing, nor did he react.
“Music also,” she continued. “Aaron is a ball of energy and the only way he knows how to expel it is through running about and causing chaos. I am trained in the pianoforte, and I truly believe that this might provide Aaron an outlet to focus his attention on.”
Suddenly, the Duke started to hum. Still, he worked. Still, his quill scratched. But the humming was low and melodic, almost mocking.
Octavia continued to watch the Duke, waiting for a response. Her lip twitched. Her leg began to vibrate. Anger boiled away inside of her, and it was all she could do to remain calm.
You are not on the street, Octavia. You cannot bully your way out of this. This is the Duke’s home; he is in charge… do not mess this up.
“Well?” she pressed with as much calm as she could manage. “What do you think?”
“About?” he asked without looking up.
She blinked. “About… what I just suggested? Concerning Aaron.”
“Might you repeat it?” he said simply.
“Wh – what?”
“Repeat it,” he said, still with his head bowed. “I was not listening.”
The anger inside of Octavia flared… but she tempered it. Is he being serious? Had he not been paying attention? The nerve!
“You'd best hurry,” he said. “The hour is getting late.”
Octavia took a deep breath and started again. She explained for a second time what she wanted and the reason for it. As she did, she was sure to watch the Duke closely, who continued to work as if she were not in the room.
“Well?” she prompted when she had finished. “What do you think?”
“Oh, were you speaking?” Again, he refused to look up. “I am afraid I did not hear you.”
“Are you –!” She caught her tongue. “Truly? You… you did not hear?”
“Did I stutter?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Did I stutter?”
“No…”
“Then why do you ask what you hear clearly?” The scratching of his quill felt like knives stabbing her skin. “Repeat it, thank you.”
Octavia did so a third time. This time, she spoke loudly, almost shouting, as she explained why she thought it was a good idea for Aaron to have someone else in his lessons. The Duke hummed again, and she was forced to speak over him.
“What do you think?” she asked when she had finished. “I believe it to be a good idea, and I would appreciate your support.”
“My support?” he asked without looking up. “For what?”
Octavia glared at the top of the Duke’s head.
The anger built, and this time she did not bother tempering it. Whether he was testing her or not felt irrelevant. Octavia had been calm. She had been patient. And while that voice in her head warned her not to overreact, she chose to ignore it… much like the Duke was ignoring her.
“I had wondered where your son learned to behave the way he does,” she said coldly. “Now, I have my answer. However, as he is just seven, I am certain such behavior can be trained out of him. For someone like you, I doubt there is any hope left.”
The Duke paused his work…
“It is clear to me that you and he have less than a perfect relationship,” she continued, her tone as cold as ice. “For that, maybe I should be grateful. As I see it, the less he sees of you, the better. No doubt, it will be good for him.”
Slowly, the Duke looked up from his work.
Octavia braced herself, expecting fire behind his eyes. She had crossed the line, she knew, and would now have to grovel and beg not to be fired.
Typical! I have done nothing wrong, and once again, I am paying for it.
Surprisingly, the Duke did not appear angry. Rather, he almost looked amused. There was a smirk on his lips, and he chuckled deeply.
“I was wondering how long it would take.”
“Excuse me?” she stammered.
“Before you broke.”
“I…” She blinked. “I did not break.”
“You did,” he said simply. “Although you did a good job of hiding the fact. No doubt, you are so angered right now that if you had a knife in your hand, then you might use it on me. And what from I know of you, you would think it justified.”
Octavia started. “What… I am not angry. I was just… I do not like being ignored.”
“My son…” The Duke groaned as he stood from behind his desk.
It was a subtle movement, but so large was he, so dominating, that the room appeared to shrink around him.
Octavia was struck by the sudden urge to take a step back.
“He is hard work. Rarely does he listen. And always does he push and poke to see what he might get away with.”
“I… I do not understand.”
“If you are to last six months with him, you will need to be patient.” He stepped around the desk and started toward her; each step was heavy so that she felt it vibrating up her legs. “You will need to learn to control that temper of yours.”
“I don’t have a temper…” Her voice cracked.
“Yes, you do,” he said. “It is not a bad thing, for we all have one. But where to use it, and when, that is something you must learn. If you do not, I am afraid that my son will undo you. Likely, you will not last a week.”
Just as he spoke about Octavia’s temper, she felt it flare. So, it was a trick! He was testing her to see her reaction. And Octavia, typically, had failed.
“I will,” she said with an effort at confidence, hard to find as the Duke came for her like a storm in the dead of night.
“Assuming you grant me this request. Your son is…” She swallowed.
“He is not a bad child, nor is he purposefully troublesome. All he needs is an outlet, and someone else to bounce off.”
“Your brother, you mean.”
“It will help,” she said. “I know it will.”
The Duke stopped short of Olivia, standing less than two feet away.
He stood a solid foot taller than she did, his shoulders so broad that they blocked off the room so that his presence dominated it entirely.
And those eyes… they looked down at her, forcing her attention, refusing to let go as if a hand had reached out, taken her by the throat, and made her look directly at him.
“When I hired you, Miss Finch, I asked that you tell me the truth of who you were.” His voice was deep and dark.
“Which you did, and without contradiction. I do not trust easily, especially where my son is concerned. And while I sense there is more to you than I know, I sense too that in this bid to help him, you are being honest.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I am.”
“For this reason, I hired you. And for this reason, I have trusted you with my son. You do not need to come to me with every little thing. In fact, I would prefer if you did not.”
“Oh…” She blinked, tried to look away, but could not bring herself to do it. “So… I… my brother…”
“You may do as you like,” he said. “With your brother, and your music lessons. My son has had an unstable education until now, and if you believe this will help, I will not stand in the way.”
She breathed a sigh of relief… or she tried to. But with the Duke standing so close, with the way he looked at her, it was difficult to breathe. Her pulse raced, her legs trembled, and all she wanted to do was turn and run…
“Th – thank you,” she stammered.
“But I will be watching you,” he continued. This time, he leaned in, his face coming to within a few inches. His eyes stayed on her own, searching her… warning her, it felt like. “He is still my son, and while I trust you, that trust only goes so far.”
“You can trust me.”
“We will see,” he said. A smirk touched his lips. His eyes flicked to her own lips. “I do not like disorder, nor do I like unpredictability. Remember this, Miss Finch. And please, do not disappoint me.”
“I… I never would.”
He did not move. He did not look away. He stood over her, so close that she felt his breath trace her lips.
Alone as they were, Octavia again felt that same helplessness that she had the last time she was with him. She felt small and weak, completely at his mercy and vulnerable. And while she ordinarily hated feeling this way, in this singular instance… why does it not feel nearly so bad as it should?
“Is there anything else?” he asked her.
“N – no,” she stammered.
“Good.” His eyes flicked down her a final time, pausing on her lips. She held her breath, unsure what he was going to do, just as she knew she could not stop him… “That will be all.” With that, he turned and walked back across the office and took his seat.
Octavia balked and lurched as if she had suddenly been released from something that was holding her.
He watched her simply, hands folded on the desk, expression as emotionless as ever. “You may go now, Miss Finch. Night has come, and you remember my rule…”
“Y – yes,” she stammered desperately, finally tearing her eyes from the Duke. “I… thank you.” A final look shared between them, a final moment of feeling utterly helpless, and she turned and hurried from the room.
Once she was in the hallway, the door closed behind her, and Olivia collapsed into the wall as she struggled to take control of her breathing.
Her meeting had gone well; she had gotten what she needed, but there was something else about what had just occurred… a lingering sensation that she could not throw.
On the surface, the reason was obvious. She was scared of the Duke. She was nervous around him and terrified of displeasing him. But deep down, as she really considered how she felt, she knew too that it was something else.
For some reason, she wanted to displease the Duke, to upset him, just to see what he might do about it. It was a dangerous thought, and it was not something she could ever enact. And yet… somehow, she got the sense that he wanted her to try. That he wanted her to misbehave.
You need to be careful, Octavia. And most of all, you need to avoid the Duke.