Chapter 2 #2
Meriel wanted to close her eyes and groan.
They were both looking at her now, Stephen with innocence, the duke with knowing amusement.
She wished she could tell him not to look at her that way, that she was in his employ.
He was crossing the line into a dangerous sort of flirting—at least it seemed so to her.
But to a man fond of ladies, perhaps just looking at a woman seemed tame. She would tolerate it as much as she could for her family’s sake.
“I agree that Miss Shelby is a lady,” the duke said. “Ladies are raised to be so accomplished.”
She stiffened warily.
“Miss Shelby, surely you can entertain us at the piano to alleviate our boredom.”
That was something she could do. She almost hurried to the grand piano which took up a corner of the room.
She left behind the sound of Stephen chattering on about the music lessons she was giving him.
She simply put her fingers on the keys, closed her eyes, and tried to be swept up in the music.
Her sister, Victoria, was the true musician of the family.
Victoria had concentrated on her musical studies with the same fascination that Meriel had had for mathematics.
But a lady learned music, and Meriel had always learned whatever she was supposed to.
When she heard a third voice, she stopped playing and opened her eyes.
Nurse Weston stood in the doorway. “Your Grace, shall I take Stephen to his bed? The evening is growing late.”
Meriel rose to her feet with relief.
“Of course,” the duke said. “But Miss Shelby, do continue your playing. I find it quite soothing.”
Nurse Weston shot her a worried look that could have shouted, I told you so.
Meriel sank back onto the bench.
“Good night, Miss Shelby!” Stephen called, giving her a wave from the doorway.
“Sleep well, my lord.” She was a little annoyed with him—after all, it was his fault she was trapped “entertaining” his father.
“Are we still going down to the shore tomorrow?” Stephen asked.
“Of course,” Meriel said. “I have several special lessons planned for the afternoon.”
When the sound of Stephen’s chattering voice had faded down the corridor, the room became very silent. Meriel did not look at the duke, but simply began to play again. She was concentrating hard and did not realize that the duke had moved until he spoke right at her side.
“Excellent technique,” he said.
She jumped and hit the wrong note.
“Forgive me for startling you.” He leaned his elbows on the piano, drink in hand, a smile in his voice, but not on his face. “Can you play and converse at the same time?”
“Perhaps.”
He was far too close for comfort. It wasn’t right to be alone like this with him—but she was only a woman in his employ, not someone he need worry about compromising.
“So you’re taking Stephen to the shore,” he said.
“Your son enjoys biology and geology, Your Grace.”
“No need to be defensive, Miss Shelby. I know you would not neglect his studies.” He looked toward the window, now closed by draperies for the night, as if he could see the sea beyond. “My own governess thought that learning from books was enough.”
“That is a shame, Your Grace.” She kept her gaze on the sheet music, not wanting him to see the twinge of sympathy in her eyes. She would have thought the childhood of a duke’s heir to be perfect.
“Where are you from, Miss Shelby?”
She wasn’t surprised that he’d forgotten, though she’d informed him of that when he’d first interviewed her. “London, Your Grace.”
“Did you always want to be a governess?”
She couldn’t stop her wry smile, but she didn’t dare look at him to see if he noticed. “No. After my father’s death, we had financial troubles.”
“Forced to a life of servitude, then,” he said.
She stiffened. “I consider myself a teacher, Your Grace. Since I was taught well, I enjoy being able to share a love of learning with my pupil—your son.”
“But what had you wanted for your life?”
His voice was soft with an intimacy that made her uncomfortable. He was between her and the door. Did he realize what he did? Or was he just a bored man who occupied himself with whomever was at hand?
She stopped playing and gave him a cool look. “Do you require such intimate knowledge of every woman in your employ, Your Grace?”
He stared at her for a moment, and behind that playful look she sensed…what? His eyes were black, and could hide many secrets. But he suddenly straightened and stepped away from the piano.
“Forgive me, Miss Shelby. I have attended so many gatherings that for a moment, I forgot I was not at another one.”
“We certainly did not move within the same social circles, Your Grace. You would never have met me.”
He nodded, and again his gaze became unfocused and distracted, as if he was thinking of something else.
Or forcing himself to think of something else.
“Your Grace, might I retire for the night? Your son and I begin our lessons at eight o’clock.”
He smiled. “There are people awake at such an unseemly hour?”
“Little boys,” she said, almost tempted to return his smile.
“Then I shan’t keep you any longer. Good night, Miss Shelby.”
She walked sedately to the corridor, not knowing if he watched her, but feeling as if he did. Only when she was out of eyesight did she lengthen her strides.
She would make sure Stephen never came upon his father alone again.