A Duke for Christmas

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A Duke for Christmas Page 11

by Joyce Alec


  “Children,” he said quietly, his single spoken word causing both his children to stop immediately and look up. “Come here and meet your governess.”

  Sarah was not surprised by his authority; he clearly had the respect of his children as well as his staff. Both children greeted her politely, the son bowing as he ought and the daughter executing a near perfect curtsy. Clearly, they had been taught well.

  “Children, please meet Miss Brown, your new governess.” His Grace continued, “Miss Brown, this is Elizabeth and Samuel.”

  “I am pleased to meet you both,” Sarah said to the two small faces peering inquisitively up at her. “I am sure we shall get along very well together.”

  She was rewarded with a smile from Elizabeth and a grin from Samuel, who appeared to be itching to start running around again. The duke put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, ensuring he stayed put.

  “I shall leave you to get acquainted,” he said, more to the children than to Sarah. “You will both treat Miss Brown with respect; she is here to educate you both, and I expect you to do as you are told.” His tone was firm, but his eyes were smiling. Sarah was relieved to know that he was not a tyrant and it was evident that both his children adored him. “I shall be up again later to see you, and I want a good report from Miss Brown.”

  “Yes, sir,” they both chimed, their blue eyes looking up at Sarah in wide-eyed innocence. Sarah supposed they got their blue eyes from their mother, but their dark hair was almost identical to the duke’s.

  His touch on her arm startled her, and she turned to find him leaning down to her, lowering his voice as he spoke.

  “Do not let their appearances fool you, Miss Brown. They are the most precocious pair of children imaginable!”

  His breath tickled her neck, his mouth close to her ear as he tried to stop his children from hearing his words. She shivered slightly, his nearness completely overwhelming her senses. He smelled of pine and cigar smoke, his low voice sending tremors through her body. She closed her eyes briefly before replying.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. I will be sure to keep on my guard.”

  Giving herself a slight shake, she heard the duke leave, closing the door behind him. She was sure he chuckled as he left the room.

  Outside the door to the nursery, the duke paused for a moment, rubbing his hand across his face. The wet, bedraggled creature was no more, instead transformed into a handsome woman with a pretty smile and fine curves that even her dull gown could not hide. He enjoyed seeing her reaction to him, but that was warning enough. A good governess was hard to find, and he was not about to ruin her reputation with a quick roll in the hay. His children would never forgive him if he had to send her away. Never mind the fact that he was sure she was untouched and, as a rule, he did not go near chaste women. He grimaced as he walked down the hallway back to his rooms. Shaking his head to himself, he entered his study.

  Chapter 3

  It was clear that the twins were going to test her, right from the start. No sooner had she sat them down in the newly dusted and decorated schoolroom were they up again and crawling under the desks. First, Sarah tried to reason with them, but they ignored every single word she said. It was as though she was not in the room! She tried to raise her voice, but it came out as just a squeak. Elizabeth and Samuel continued their games, laughing and giggling as they chased each other around the room.

  Giving up, Sarah sat back in her chair, her head in her hands. She had no one to turn to, no one to ask for help. Should the duke walk into a scene like this, she was sure she would be given immediate notice. Praying in desperation, she begged silently for help to the One she knew was always there. A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek as she prayed, frustrated at her own lack of proficiency.

  A small hand touched her knee, and she raised her head to see Elizabeth’s concerned little face looking into her own.

  “Are you sad, Miss Brown?”

  Sarah let out a little laugh.

  “Yes, Elizabeth, I suppose I am a little sad.”

  To her surprise, Elizabeth’s eyes became angry, and she suddenly turned to her brother.

  “Samuel, we will sit down now and do our lessons, and then Miss Brown will not be sad anymore.”

  Samuel was idly picking at a small knot in the desk, his face a mixture of guilt and stubbornness, but to Sarah’s utter relief, she saw him nod.

  Now feeling both a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude, Sarah patted Elizabeth’s hand whilst sending up a quick prayer of thanks. She was grateful that Elizabeth, despite her tender years, seemed to understand what was required of her and that her brother, however unwillingly, was following suit.

  “Thank you, my dear. I am sure that your father will be pleased with a good report.”

  On hearing his father mentioned, Samuel bolted to a desk and sat down immediately whilst Elizabeth picked up two slates and gave one to Samuel before sitting down at her own desk. Sarah smiled, making a mental note to mention the duke whenever there was even a whiff of trouble. She turned to the blackboard and prepared to start some basic arithmetic, but Samuel’s voice stopped her.

  “Miss Brown, may I ask you a question?”

  He was all decorum now, she thought grimly, but turned to him with a bright smile, nodding her consent.

  “Will you birch us, if we get some wrong?”

  Sarah’s mouth dropped open. The child was only six years old and at the very start of his education. Whatever had given him the idea that she would switch him for making mistakes?

  “Of course not, Samuel, whatever made you think such a thing?”

  Samuel dropped his head, his face burning red as he refused to reply. Sarah, still looking for her answer, turned to Elizabeth.

  “Well?”

  “Miss Hewson — the governess before you — she would birch us. She kept it in her desk.”

  Sarah could not abide the idea of switching the children. She wanted them to trust her, to respect her and to, most importantly, feel safe with her. She wanted to foster a love of learning and an excitement about the world around them. Fear was a poor form of control and not something she ever intended to use. Walking to her desk, she quickly found the switch and walked back over to Samuel. His eyes grew large, and she quickly knelt down, attempting to dispel any fear.

  “Samuel,” she said quietly. “I will make you a promise, right here and now. I promise you that I will never, ever birch you. I will not be upset if you make mistakes, but I do want you to do your best and to try hard with your lessons. Do you understand?”

  Samuel nodded, still refusing to look at her, keeping his eyes on the switch in her hand.

  “I keep my promises, Samuel, and I have promised never to birch you, have I not? Therefore, there is no use for this, is there?” She held up the switch.

  Samuel slowly raised his gaze to her face, a dawning comprehension in his eyes.

  “No, Miss Brown, there is not.”

  Sarah smiled at him.

  “Then may I suggest that you throw it in the fire?”

  Sarah could tell this was more than just a simple gesture to him, watching as he grabbed the switch out of her hands, walked to the blazing fire and, after a moment, threw it in. She pretended not to hear the sniffling coming from him as he stood before the flames, watching the switch take light and begin to burn. Pain squeezed her heart as she thought of such a small boy being inflicted with painful welts over something as simple as making an arithmetic mistake. It would take time, but she would gain his trust, she was sure of it. This was a step in the right direction.

  After a few minutes of silence, broken only by the cracklings from the fire, Samuel turned and walked back towards his desk, a look of peace on his face. He did not touch her, but she caught his quiet, ‘thank you’ as he passed. Thrilled, Sarah realized that this was her first step in building a relationship with the children. Picking up her chalk, she commenced her arithmetic lesson with gusto.

  Unb
eknownst to Sarah, the duke had witnessed the entire scene. He had been out riding early, as was his routine, and had deliberately passed by the schoolroom on the way back to his rooms. Pausing for a moment outside the partially open door, he watched as Miss Brown spoke to his son, feeling hot anger as he learned that the previous governess had been birching his children without his knowledge or permission. His fury had cooled slightly as he watched Samuel throw the switch on the fire, feeling a sense of thankfulness that this new governess was not cut from the same cloth as the previous one.

  Perhaps he had underestimated her. Miss Brown was a small creature, quiet and unassuming, but she obviously cared for his children. She realized Samuel’s fears and made it clear she would not be adding to them. Her gentleness towards his twins would earn their respect, he was sure and, despite his misgivings, he was beginning to think that perhaps she would fit in nicely within their household. Hoping she had not heard him, he continued towards his study. He did not want to leave his steward waiting.

  The first day had been a success, Sarah thought to herself, grateful to be sitting down at last. The children had been eager to learn and the day had passed in a whirl of lessons, walks in the garden, and time playing in the nursery. Now her duties were over for the day, giving her time to prepare the following day’s lessons. Meg brought in her dinner tray.

  “Here you go, miss.”

  “Thank you, Meg, I am most grateful.”

  Meg smiled; glad to see that the sweet governess appeared happy.

  “Twins not too much for you then?”

  “I think we have reached a compromise,” Sarah laughed. “They will do their lessons, and then I will allow them some time outside where they may run around, climb trees, and do as they please!”

  “Very good, miss. It’ll be nice to see them smiling again.”

  Meg took her leave, her final words giving Sarah real insight. She wanted the children to smile, to laugh, to enjoy their youth. She thought back fondly to her own childhood, the days when she had laughed and played with both her father and mother. Things had seemed so idyllic back then. Shaking herself out of her melancholy, she began to eat, enjoying both the food and the silence.

  ***

  Forgetting all about his accounts, the duke was lost in his thoughts. He was pleased with the new governess, but something was troubling him, and all attempts to ignore it were proving futile. After she had fainted the previous day, the duke had made a few frustrated noises before deciding he would have to pick her up and carry her to her room. However, her prone form and wet gown had revealed a few bruises on her arms on her pale skin, blue and discolored. They would now be well hidden under her high-necked gown, but it disturbed him immensely that she was carrying these. Letters of recommendation only gave him so much information, and he could not simply ask her how she had received them without humiliating her further; he was at a loss as to what to do. It could be as simple an explanation as a fall from her horse, he mused.

  A knock interrupted his reverie, the butler entering to explain that Miss Brown requested a few moments of his time. Nodding and sitting up straight in his chair, he did not find her request an annoyance, realizing he was glad to see her again.

  “Miss Brown,” he began, smiling at her as she came in. “What can I do for you?

  “Your Grace,” she began, placing her hands behind her back for fear he would see her twisting her fingers as she tried to control her nerves. “If it would not be too much of an inconvenience, I should like to spend some time in the library, if I may? I am in search of some suitable reading material for both myself and the twins.” She was looking directly at him now, and he could see the anxiety on her face, clearly afraid he would be angry at her request.

  “Of course, Miss Brown, of course. The library is at your disposal. Make use of it whenever you wish.” His eyes took in her form as she murmured her thanks and gracefully made her way from the room, suddenly aware of her womanly curves. Not only that, but her attentions to his children had only further endeared him to her. It seemed she was, in fact, a welcome addition to the Huntington estate.

  Chapter 4

  Sarah soon settled in and, to her great delight, the children took to her almost immediately, having worked out their differences. There was no sign that her father knew of her whereabouts and, as the days passed, she thought of him less and less, becoming satisfied and happy with her new life. She enjoyed teaching the children their lessons, with Samuel especially proving to be a quick learner. In the afternoons, they enjoyed walks in the gardens, exploring the ponds or hunting for treasure in the woods. The weather was cold and frosty, nipping their ears and toes but they were not discouraged. On days when it was too wet to even take a step outside, Sarah and the children would build forts, put on performances with their puppet theater, or practice their dance steps. She had heard that the duke was to host a Christmas ball in a few weeks’ time, and she was having difficulty containing Elizabeth’s excitement!

  On one such day, Sarah dragged a fairly reluctant Samuel and an enthusiastic Elizabeth to the ballroom to continue their dancing lessons. Of course, as a daughter of an earl, she had been taught the steps from almost the time she could walk, her favorite being the quadrille. It was with this that she began and Elizabeth, as keen as ever to dance, began practicing with great zeal as Sarah played the piano, reminding her of the steps whenever Elizabeth faltered. Samuel stood stoically, refusing to take part. He hated dancing and, of course, at his age could not understand why it was such an important skill to have. Sarah smiled to herself knowingly. In a few years’ time, Samuel would be asking all the eligible ladies to dance and, if, God willing, she was still with the household, she would take great pleasure in reminding him of his stubborn refusals.

  “Miss Brown, what other dances are there? Are there many? Am I to learn more than one?”

  Sarah laughed at Elizabeth’s enthusiasm, her face pink with exertion.

  “Yes, my dear, there are many, many dances for you to learn. In fact, when I was growing up, there was a new dance that came to England all the way from France. I have heard that in London, one must get permission to dance it.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes grew round.

  “Why, Miss Brown? Why must I get permission?”

  Sarah paused for a moment, trying to come up with a simple explanation that this little girl would understand.

  “It is a very special dance, Elizabeth; that is all. Not everyone is permitted to take part, it is so special!”

  “Oh, I see.” Elizabeth seemed satisfied with her answer. “What is the special dance called?”

  “The waltz,” came a voice from the shadows, causing Sarah to jump in fright. “Pardon me, Miss Brown, I was just passing when I heard voices.” The duke ambled into the room, taking in Samuel’s stubborn face and Elizabeth’s elated one.

  “Yes... yes,” Sarah continued, trying to find her equilibrium. “It is called the waltz, Elizabeth, and, as I said, it came all the way from France!”

  “Oh how lovely,” Elizabeth sighed. “What a lovely name. I should so like to see it one day.”

  “Indeed you shall.” The duke put his hand out towards Sarah. “Shall we indulge her, Miss Brown?”

  Sarah sat, nonplussed for a moment, aware of the vast impropriety of the situation. A duke did not ask a governess to dance, not even to satisfy the curiosity of a child. They certainly did not ask them to dance the waltz, a dance that was controversial still. She would be held close by him, and she would have to take his hand — and neither of them wearing gloves at that. Her breath hitched as she considered what to say. In the silence, Elizabeth answered for her.

  “Yes, yes, Miss Brown, you must. Father is a terrific dancer, I am sure, and I would so love to see the waltz!”

  With an encouraging shove from Elizabeth, which earned her a chastising glare from her father, Sarah found herself in the Duke of Huntington’s arms, preparing to dance her first waltz in years. She had only danced it twice before
, each time with permission and with a gentleman she felt nothing for, but with the duke, it was completely different.

  “There is no music, Your Grace,” she murmured, refusing to look him in the eye and instead focusing her gaze on a painting at the far end of the room.

  “We do not need music, Miss Brown,” the duke replied, a smile in his voice. “I shall count to three to keep us in time. Please ensure you do not step on my toes as my valet has only just finished polishing my shoes.”

  Sarah glared at him then, her eyes angry and a retort on the tip of her tongue. Before she could speak and without hesitation, the duke spun her onto the floor and into the waltz. She realized that he had been waiting for her to look at him, as though he needed to see her face. His hands were warm and strong, holding the correct distance apart, as propriety demanded. She heard his voice quietly counting to three over and over again, as they danced across the floor to the great delight of both children. The duke certainly was an excellent dancer, she thought, as she was twirled gracefully across the floor. His counting became the melody in her head as she relaxed in his arms, forgetting all about her lower rank. She was back in the days of her youth, a mere girl of eighteen who had been asked to dance by an eligible young man.

  Oliver noticed the change in Sarah’s posture and face, the way she relaxed into the dance, losing herself in imagined music. He did not know much about her background, but he could tell from her unfaltering steps that she had been highly educated, trained in all the ways of a genteel lady. She was pretty when her face was not filled with worry, he thought, seeing her smile as she lost herself in some far-off memories. He forgot that his children were watching, that this was merely a show for his daughter, and pulled Miss Brown closer to his body. Her face was now so near to his own, he could feel her breath whisper across his cheek. Blue eyes looked up at him, a little heavy lidded, and in that moment, the temptation to lower his head almost overwhelmed him. Counting to three was no longer just keeping time but instead became the countdown to capturing her lips.

 

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