Page 7 of The Marquis' Game of Seduction
Duncan’s arms did a similar motion, flapping about in the air above him as he tried to capture the butterfly. Rose’s lips curled into a smile. Although she ached to ask Duncan to explain more of what he meant about the master, she decided this wasn’t the time. This moment was the first in which she’d felt Duncan was acting like an actual boy, the proper emotion for his age. She wanted nothing more than for him to ride that wave.
Still, she remained nonplussed at the way the master had looked at her. Dark eyes, somber expression, seeming to know every little chaotic and anxious thought stirring in the back of her mind. She ached to have a more proper conversation with him in the coming hours, if only to stamp out the strange thoughts that stirred within her. But she imagined it would be ages before she even heard his voice aloud.
Duncan and Rose found themselves easing toward the forest, dotting their feet along the edge of the trees, discovering still more late-season butterflies, yellow and red leaves that had already cast themselves to the ground, and little animals, like squirrels and chipmunks. The young boy took immense pleasure in chasing them through the woods. When he reared back to look at Rose, his cheeks were bright red and his two front teeth stuck out over his lower lip.
“This is positively brilliant!” he called to her, his voice echoing out across the tops of the trees.
Rose hoped that she could bring this level of comfort and color to his life every single day. Yet her heart ached and beat slowly, feeling apprehensive about this strange world she’d entered into. A dark-eyed, evil-seeming master—one who seemed to both thrill and frighten his nephew. A mighty, shadowy house, without a sense of life or love. And a tower, peeking up toward the sky, with its stones apt to cast toward the ground and destroy.
Chapter 3
Colin hadn’t wanted the young boy to live in the Kensington estate. Rather, he’d insisted to his sister that he hadn’t the energy or the time to set aside to give the boy a proper education. But over time, his sister had grown increasingly ill, and it seemed that Colin’s estate—the very one in which he and his sister had been born and raised—was the only option.
Thus far, he’d struggled to find anything at all to discuss with the boy. When he looked at him, he saw both himself and his sister merged there on his ten year old face. The boy blinked up at him with a kind of neediness that Colin knew the boy was trying to hide. The boy brought up several topics that, he sensed, his sister had told him to bring up around Colin to “unite” them. This both petrified and enraged Colin. Did his sister truly think he was such a monster that she needed to give Duncan these topics?
The governess had come strongly recommended. Colin hadn’t the time or the energy, yet again, to interview her, and had decided to hire her without interview. This was, he was told, “highly unusual,” but he hadn’t a care for such things. He needed only someone to babysit the boy while he continued on with his life.
Seeing them out there on the grounds had been a strange thing. Colin had wanted to avoid them at all costs throughout these first weeks—hopefully forever—to set a precedent that he wasn’t going to be around, that they couldn’t come for him for any reason. He’d paused on horseback, gazing down at them. The governess was far different than he’d envisioned. They hadn’t told him her age prior to hiring. He’d imagined a much older woman, someone more in line with his own governess, with his own memories.
His governess had had claw-like, craggy hands, and she’d lent nary a kind word. She’d made him and his sister feel like pariahs in their own home. Although it had been uncomfortable at the time, Colin now considered that this had elevated his sense of self, forcing him to construct his own playtime, his own education, his own ability to exist in the world. His father had long complimented him on his will and strength and his ability to remain in solitude for many days at a time. He’d said that these were the qualities in a truly great man.
The governess, though. Young, perhaps early 20s, with beautiful brown locks that flowed aimlessly through the autumn breeze. Her green eyes were alight, filled with personality, and her cheeks were dotted with freckles. There was something rather stunning about her. The vision of her crept into the forefront of Colin’s mind as he swept off his horse and handed the reins back to the stable-boy. He didn’t greet the boy, although he’d known him for a number of years. Rather, he turned back toward the house, still swimming in his own thoughts.
He walked through the back door, where he spotted Judith at the kitchen window. She seemed anxious, her eyebrows furrowed. When she saw him, however, her expression changed completely. Her smile grew wider; her eyes lightened.
“Good morning, my lord,” she said, bowing her head a bit.
Colin half-detested when she greeted him in such a manner. After all, he’d known Judith for years, nearly all of his life. However, he knew it wasn’t his place to ask her to call him anything else, as it would probably embarrass her. He ticked his head toward his study and said, “Shall we have a quick word, Judith?”
Judith followed behind Colin, entering the study behind him and clipping the door closed. Colin marched to his desk and sat on his father’s chair (now his, of course), and watched as Judith sat gracefully across from him. Her eyes were eager and alight. She was constantly eager to please.
“The new governess has taken Duncan onto the grounds,” he said.
“That’s right,” Judith affirmed. “I told her that it would be appropriate, as it’s essential that the two of them get to know one another, grow more comfortable. During our previous conversation, you’d stated that you hadn’t a care what the two of them covered for his education; rather, you wanted to give her free reign…”
Colin had said this. He’d said it flippantly, in an attempt to prove, to perhaps himself, that he didn’t care much for the boy. He wanted to craft a similar childhood that he’d had.
“That’s right,” Colin said. “And it’s absolutely fine. I wanted only to check up on the governess. Her name—“
“Rose,” Judith said.
For reasons Colin couldn’t completely fathom, his heart pumped with the beauty of the word. Roses had long been his favourite flower; the rose garden in back was his great escape, the place where he found himself lost in thought, dreaming with nostalgia. He never went there with anyone else.
“Rose. Yes,” Colin said, ensuring that he kept his face stoic. “How are you finding her?”
Judith spread her aging hands across her lap and tilted her head. “It’s a bit early to formulate a fully-formed opinion, I suppose. However, at this point, I can say that she’s incredibly kind and clever. As I told you before, she’s been an orphan for quite some time and spent the majority of her childhood in a London orphanage. She seems to see the house with these eyes—see it in all its grandeur. She’s mesmerised by it. At least, in my view.”
“Hmm.” Colin had forgotten that the girl was an orphan. Ordinarily, his visions of orphans were grey and cloudy and strange; he’d seen the orphans at the edge of the road at the various London markets, begging for food. He hadn’t seen this within the girl he’d seen on the moors. Rather, she’d seemed fresh and radiant. If he’d never known better, he wouldn’t have seen the shadow of her dark past.
“Regardless, Duncan seems to have really taken to the girl,” Judith continued. “You know he’s quite an anxious thing, really unsure of himself. Yet the moment he saw her, he was wild with words and ideas. She seemed delighted with him as well. He so terribly needs a friend in this big old house. I imagine you always had your sister as a playmate, but Duncan had no one these past few days. I imagine he didn’t have anyone the moment he returned to London from the West Indies. He speaks of the West Indies a great deal. He seems to feel very conflicted about their return to London. He isn’t quite English, yet, is he?”
“It’s Amelia’s fault for following that wretched man across the world,” Colin said. His voice was dark and gritty, and he immediately regretted what he said.
Judith’s eyes flashed toward the ground. Colin hated when he showed this other side of himself to Judith. She was one of the only people he trusted in the world. Certainly, she’d become his backbone in the wake of his father’s death.
“Regardless,” Judith said, seemingly trying to press forward. “I think it’s rather important that you get to know the governess, at least a bit. She’s a fine girl, and I’m sure she feels rather strange in your enormous house, without speaking with you. Consider her perspective for a moment.”
“I simply don’t have much time, Judith…” Colin began, using that same excuse he always returned to.
