Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
It was just as Octavia finished her supper, alone, that an idea came to her – one concerning Aaron and his quest for his father’s affection. It struck her like a bolt of lightning so that she stood up, almost yelped with excitement, and then smiled with triumph.
Of course… it is so simple. How did I not think of this sooner?
That she ate alone was the main reason that this idea came to her when it did.
Aaron and Henry had eaten together earlier, she did not feel as if it was right to eat her supper with the household staff, and the chances of the Duke joining her…
There is a better chance of the sun rising in the middle of the night.
Nonetheless, with this idea now firmly in place, she hurried through the house, determined now to find the Duke so that she could tell him and that he might agree.
She was halfway up the steps when she realized her era.
Of the three rules that the Duke had given her when she accepted this role, the one that he seemed most serious about was that she not disturb him once the sun set.
The reason for this, she could not imagine, but she remembered clearly the last time that she had sought him, just before evening arrived, and how quick he was to dismiss her the second that night fell.
In this instance, surely he will not mind? Even if he is busy with work, what is a two-minute conversation if it helps his son? Is that not the most important thing?
Octavia knew that it was dangerous. She knew that the Duke would be mad at her, if for no other reason than to prove to her his power and command. But she also reasoned that this could not wait, and that once the Duke heard what she had to say, he would agree with her.
Also… Octavia would be lying if she said there wasn’t a small thrill felt at the idea of testing the limits of the Duke’s patience.
The last time that she had done so, something strange had passed between them.
He had been angry at her, but she had seen another emotion pass behind his eyes.
The effect it had on her was undeniable, and while Octavia worried about the danger, she was just as excited by it.
With that in mind, she pushed down her doubt and went to find the Duke.
Her natural inclination was to try him in his office, but when she arrived, she found the door open and the office empty. Her brow creased in a tight furrow of frustration…
Perhaps he is in the east wing? She stepped into the hallway and looked in that direction. Another rule of his was to never go there. But why? What could he possibly be hiding…
Again, Octavia felt that pulse ripple throughout her body at the mere thought of disobeying the Duke’s rules. She had never been one to do as she was told; she coveted her independence and autonomy, and she was certain that whatever she found in the east wing would be revealing.
A smile crept up her lips, excitement fluttering in her stomach as she started down the hallway. This was so wrong, so dangerous, but that wasn’t going to stop her.
As luck had it, perhaps even fate, Octavia did not make it as far as the east wing. There was no need.
On her right, as she walked down the hallway, she spied a door that was only half-closed.
She thought nothing of it, was about to walk right past, when she heard grunting coming from within.
Octavia came to a sudden halt, listening closer to those sounds of grunting, her curiosity piqued beyond belief.
The grunting belonged to the Duke. Was he exercising? Perhaps boxing? That would make the most sense. A picture of what she might find formed in Octavia’s head, and her hand shook as she slowly reached out and pushed the door open.
And then, when she found her answer, she gasped at what she saw.
It was a large, empty room. Along the walls were a series of paintings, their themes and depictions varying from portraits to landscapes to everything in between. Standing at the center of this room, his back to the doorway, was the Duke.
His clothing was simple, a little plain in fact, something a farmer might wear. His feet were bare. In his right hand, he held a painter’s brush, in his left was a pallet smeared with various colors of paint, and before him stood an easel with a large piece of canvas on display.
The Duke attacked the canvas as if he had a vendetta against it. He grunted and puffed as he painted. He cursed, he breathed heavily, he focused so squarely on the painting that Octavia could have snuck right up behind him and not have been noticed.
The Duke paints? Of all the things I might have imagined about him, this is so low on the list that even had I one million guesses, I would have never… who is this man?
She stood dumbstruck and in a state of awe.
Octavia felt as if she had stumbled upon something deeply personal, something that she was not meant to witness, and it felt wrong to sneak about and watch like this. She knew that she should leave, but she simply could not stop staring.
It was his intensity that drew her. How fixed he was on his painting. She could not see what it was, as his body blocked her line of sight, but it had his attention like nothing else; a most personal painting, certainly not for her eyes.
Slowly, knowing she had to leave before it was too late, Octavia took a steady step back…
The floorboard beneath her foot creaked loudly and cut through the silence like a shattered pane of glass. She gasped, the Duke’s hulking frame froze, and time slowed down…
That was until it sped right up again.
The Duke snarled, snatched at a sheet that hung from the easel, and flung it over the painting. Then he spun around, found her standing in the middle of the room watching, and the look in his dark eyes was one of sheer outrage, surprise, and betrayal.
“Miss Finch…” Despite his obvious fury, the Duke managed to temper it so that he did not shout; rather, he growled so that she felt it in her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I –”
“Remind me, as you have clearly forgotten, what was the first rule that I gave you? A rule that you agreed to.” He continued to look right at her, the anger still burning in his eyes.
“I am aware of the rule.” Octavia swallowed as she attempted to stand up to the Duke. “But I felt that this –”
“So, you have broken it on purpose,” he spoke over her. “Do you not think the rules apply to you? How can I expect you to teach my son if you cannot follow even the most simple of directives?”
As he spoke, the Duke seemed to grow taller. Getting over his initial surprise, he took a step forward, squared his shoulders, and stood as if he meant for his frame to stretch across the entire room like a growing storm cloud.
Octavia hesitated. Her breath left her. Her body trembled. For all her talk of wanting to test the Duke’s limits, proving that she was not afraid of him, she suddenly became wholly aware of how little power she had here.
This was a bad idea, Octavia…
“Well?” he barked. “Speak! You did not come here to gawk.”
She thought to turn and run. She thought to hurry to her room, collect her things, find Henry, and flee for her life.
What stopped her from doing so was the dull flicker of a memory…
many memories, in fact. As scary as the Duke was, he was not malevolent or evil, nor would he hurt her.
Octavia had spent the last four years living on the street, looking real danger in the face every single day, and not once had she succumbed to her fear and allowed it to beat her.
He does not want to scare me. What he wants is to see if I have what it takes to stand up to him. Isn’t that how it was the last time? Constantly testing me, seeing how far he can push before I break.
Octavia squared her shoulders and fixed the Duke with a flat look. “There is no need to shout.”
“I was not –”
“I am aware of your rules,” she spoke over him, refusing to look away. “However, in this instance, I thought that it might be worth breaking them. Just this once. And, if you will stop trying to frighten me, I will happily tell you why.”
The Duke’s eyes widened with fury. A snarl found his lips. She did not back down, holding him in her flat and disinterested gaze, daring him to try shouting at her one more time…
As expected, this had the desired effect.
The fire left the Duke’s eyes. His anger faded.
Now, when he looked at her, she saw something else reflected behind his dark eyes.
Annoyance, sure. Surprise, that was there too.
But he appeared curious also, perhaps even amused.
She wondered how many people in the Duke’s life had dared to speak to him like this, knowing that would be a very short list indeed.
“Well?” he said darkly. “I suggest you speak quickly, if what you have to say is so important.”
“Very well.” She smiled with triumph. “It concerns Master Aaron. We have had only a few lessons together, and while they are coming along nicely – I was right, by the way, about including my brother in them.” She looked at him as if expecting praise.
“And?”
“It has helped,” she continued with bitterness. “I can see in real time how having another boy his age curbs Master Aaron’s more extreme tendencies. However, it is nowhere near enough. What your son requires most is affection and attention –”
“Is that not what I have hired you for?”
“Attention from his father,” she spoke up. “Everything that he does, how he misbehaves, is a direct result of his desperation for you to notice him. He is a child, he does not understand why his father ignores him, and he will only grow worse until something is done about it.”
Now, it was the Duke’s turn to look uncomfortable.
Octavia shouldn’t have been surprised. The Duke was obviously not very close with Aaron, but while his son’s desire to form this relationship was so obvious, she hadn’t been entirely certain how the Duke might feel about such things.
Well, I hadn’t been… until now.