Chapter 4 #2
She supposed the precise cut of the duke’s features only added to his general air of icy indifference.
His cheeks, bracketed by neatly trimmed muttonchops, were so lean they were almost a little hollow.
His thick, tousled locks tumbled across a high noble forehead toward heavy, black-winged brows and those remarkable arctic-blue eyes of his, framed by long sooty lashes (lashes Emmeline would practically kill for).
There was not a trace of softness about his wide chiseled mouth, nor in the set of his rigid, sharply hewn jaw.
When the duke turned his head slightly, revealing his profile, Emmeline could see that the long line of his nose had an aquiline cast to it. Despite his off-putting manner, she couldn’t deny that the duke was handsome. Although it would be far easier if she could ignore how attractive he was.
He was nothing at all like Jeremy, her late husband, who’d been all devil-may-care smiles and charm personified. Emmeline almost snorted aloud. When they’d been courting anyway.
Besides, what did it matter whether the duke was her “cup of tea” in terms of looks and personality, or not?
She wasn’t looking for a husband. The Duke of St Lawrence could be as unpleasant as a spoonful of cod liver oil, or even a cup of hemlock, and she’d still take the job. If this interview went well…
Emmeline also noted that the duke hadn’t removed his snug-fitting black kid gloves even though they were about to take tea.
Which seemed rather odd. But everything about this particular encounter was peculiar, so Emmeline supposed she shouldn’t be all that surprised.
For instance, she didn’t believe it was customary for a nobleman to share afternoon tea with a mere servant.
Indeed, part of her was surprised that someone like the duke’s housekeeper wasn’t conducting her interview.
“Well then…” The duke’s gaze dropped to the tea things on the table.
Another frown. “I suppose we should get down to business. But would you like something to eat or drink first? Tea or coffee? Or a sandwich? The egg and cress ones are particularly good if you like that sort of thing. Or you might prefer a scone with strawberry jam and clotted cream. Or I could ring for something else. Lemonade or petit fours? Pastries?” The corner of his mouth twitched with the semblance of a wry smile.
“It’s probably a bit early in the day for a tipple of sherry or brandy. ”
Even though Emmeline wouldn’t have minded something to eat—she’d missed lunch at the Academy—she didn’t wish to prolong this already awkwarder-than-awkward interview.
“I’m not one to tipple,” she said. “With regard to the scones and sandwiches or anything else, no, thank you. But I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea.
” To moisten my dry throat and to give my stomach something to do other than churn.
The duke tilted his head, and Emmeline took that as a sign that she was to play hostess like a well-bred society lady (which she was not) and pour. “Tea or coffee, Your Grace?”
“Coffee, thank you. I can’t abide tea. Horrid stuff.”
As Emmeline dispensed the beverage into a fine bone-china cup, the duke added, “I won’t require milk or sugar. The coffee I enjoy is rather like me I suppose…” Another one of those twisted, almost wry smiles. “Broodingly dark, perhaps even inclining toward bitterness.”
Although Emmeline was more than a little startled by the duke’s frank admission, she managed to hand his coffee to him without rattling the cup in its saucer. Dark and brooding and bitter? At least he was aware of his own foibles…
“But don’t let that put you off the position,” the duke continued after he’d taken a sip of his drink. “Despite my numerous character flaws, which I will readily admit to, I believe I am a fair man.”
Emmeline poured her own cup of tea and added extra milk and two sugar lumps. (Sugar could count as sustenance, couldn’t it?)
Goodness. She hadn’t expected any sort of forthright disclosures from a man like the duke.
Although, it seemed the nobleman possessed a dry sense of humor which he wielded with great effectiveness now and again.
And that wasn’t a bad thing at all. In fact, the duke’s self-deprecating openness had the effect of allaying Emmeline’s own qualms. So much so, she looked at the duke over the rim of her cup and ventured, “While I appreciate your candor, Your Grace, I will confess that I’m beginning to have reservations nonetheless. ”
He cocked a brow in query. “You are?” His expression hovered somewhere between sardonic, incredulous, and grave, but Emmeline couldn’t tell which emotion dominated. He was very hard to read.
“Yes.” She took a sip from her cup then put it down. “I mean, how could I possibly work for someone who doesn’t drink tea? I’m sure there are rules against it in the Parasol Academy Handbook .”
Heavens, she shouldn’t be saying things like this, but the duke was so stern and pompous this afternoon and some evil imp inside Emmeline wanted to needle him, just a little bit, just for fun. Just to see what he would do.
He stared at her for a long moment as if trying to work out if she was serious. But then his mouth twitched and something bright and burning flared in those pale frost-blue eyes. Humor or a spark of appreciation perhaps? “You’re joking, of course,” he asserted.
“Yes, I am.” Emmeline suddenly decided she was enjoying herself. “My apologies if I’ve come across as too flippant. But sometimes certain things simply need to be said. Ground rules that should never be broken and boundaries that should never be crossed should be made clear from the outset.”
“Another Parasol Academy tenet?”
Was that a note of amusement in the duke’s voice? Emmeline hoped so. “Yes. But it also might be found under an alternative title: The Principles of Sensible Living According to Mrs. Emmeline Chase .”
“Well, your principles seem very sound to me,” replied the duke with an approving nod.
“And there’s no need to apologize for injecting a bit of light teasing into the conversation.
I’m inclined to be a little too…” His gaze darted away from her as he appeared to search for the right word. “Somber,” he concluded.
He didn’t mind Emmeline’s teasing? Now that was a relief. There was hope she might secure this position after all. “Well, you did warn me about all the darkness and bitterness.” She was unable to resist another tiny prod.
“I did.” He lifted his coffee in a mock salute and took another sip.
“To be perfectly frank, I think my wards could do with a little fun and flippancy in their lives. I do believe that some of the less desirable behaviors they’ve displayed of late are related to the fact their nannies to date have been rather too staid.
And of course, I’ve not been overly ‘present’ either, what with my work and encroaching project deadline.
” He sighed. “All in all, they’ve not had an easy time of it. ”
Ah, at last they were down to business. Emmeline was on surer ground now. “Mrs. Temple mentioned they are orphans?” she prompted gently.
“Yes.” The duke’s frown returned. “It’s all terribly tragic, I’m afraid.
I’ve been told their parents died in a freak yachting accident in the English Channel.
About a year ago. Their father—a distant cousin of mine whom I’d never met—fancied himself as a bit of a sailor.
But a storm hit and”—the duke released a sad sigh—“it seems Mother Nature decided to take him down a fathom or two. The children went to live with an ancient maiden aunt for a while, but then she, too, passed away. Just last month in fact. So now they are with me.”
Emmeline’s heart clenched. “It’s never easy losing a parent at any stage. But I think it’s especially hard when children are so young. Your wards are lucky to have you.”
The duke’s brows lifted in surprise. “Why would you think that? You hardly know me, Mrs. Chase.”
“While that’s true, what I do know is that you went to see Mrs. Temple at the Parasol Academy.
You obviously wish to hire a bespoke nanny who will provide exceptional care for your wards.
Not every guardian—or parent—would do that.
You clearly take your responsibility seriously and want only the best for these children. ”
The duke’s gaze fell to his lap. With a gloved finger, he flicked a speck of nonexistent lint off his knee.
“Indeed.” There was a slight pause and then he added, “I take it that you are not daunted by the fact that my wards are rather… rumbustious? You saw that the oldest—Harriet—had upset Nanny Snodgrass with her pet frog yesterday.”
Emmeline put down her tea. “Yes. I’m not one to listen to gossip, but I also heard about… the trebuchet incident a bit later on. And that Miss Harriet was the instigator of the so-called experiment.”
The duke nodded as though he wasn’t at all surprised that she knew. “Did your headmistress also tell you that before I employed Nanny Snodgrass, another nanny worked here? And that she only lasted a week?”
Emmeline shook her head. “No. She didn’t mention that particular detail. May I ask why?”
“In the interest of being open and honest with you, the first nanny—a Miss Butterworth—resigned because Miss Harriet put a firecracker in the nursery stove. I’m pleased to say that no one was injured, but it was a serious incident.”
Oh… Emmeline swallowed. “If I may venture an opinion, Your Grace, it sounds like Miss Harriet might be more than just a little bored. Perhaps she’s also seeking your attention?”