Page 12 of The Iron Duke's Flaming Christmas
Selene caught her breath before approaching her. Lady Lenore was so intent on what she was doing that she didn’t look up. Selene wasn’t sure whether the girl was even aware that she was there.
The words of reprimand died on Selene’s lips. Lady Lenore was engrossed in watching a small beetle walking across the snow, her eyes wide with wonder. After a moment, Selene squatted next to her, staring at the beetle as well.
“How splendid he is,” said Selene, in a soft voice, after another moment. “Do you like his shell? What shade of green would you say it is?”
The girl cocked her head to the side, considering the question. “He is light green,” she replied. “The same color as the grass in the springtime.” She frowned, squinting her eyes. “No. His shell looks blue sometimes, as well.”
Selene smiled, not taking her eyes off the beetle. “There is a word for that particular shade of green,” she said, glancing quickly at the girl, whose eyes were as round as saucers now. “Do you want to know what it is?”
Lady Lenore glanced up at her. Her eyes were alight. “What is it?”
“The word is teal,” replied Selene, putting a finger near the beetle, so that it crawled onto it. She examined the insect more closely. “I would say his shell is teal. A combination of blue and green. Do you see the way his antennae twitch?”
Lady Lenore nodded solemnly. “Yes. Why does it do that?”
“I believe he is sensing his surroundings,” replied Selene, holding the beetle closer to her face, so she could see it better. “We use our eyes and ears and fingers to make sense of ourenvironment. This little fellow is using his antennae to do the same.”
“How do you know it is a boy?” asked the girl, staring at Selene, a look of curiosity on her face. “Why do you say ‘he’?”
Selene laughed. “I do not know if this creature is a boy or not, my lady,” she replied. “It is a figure of speech.”
Lady Lenore took a deep breath. “I think this beetle is a girl beetle.” Her eyes were dancing with joy. “Perhaps she is searching for her baby beetles.”
Selene laughed again. “Perhaps. Who knows?” She held out her finger holding the beetle to the girl. “Would you like to take her?”
Lenore looked surprised, then gratified, nodding quickly. She held out a finger close to Selene’s finger. The beetle walked onto it without hesitation.
“Oh, my!” cried Lenore, putting her finger close to her face, staring avidly at the insect. “Your name is Bessie. You are Bessie the Beetle.” She announced it in a solemn tone, as if she were christening the insect.
Selene laughed with delight. “Why have you named her Bessie, my lady?”
“Because I like the name,” replied the girl, smiling. “Bessie was the name of one of my maids. She always smiled.”
Selene nodded. “Perhaps we could carry Bessie the Beetle back to the library and study her a bit more,” she suggested. “And after we have finished, we will place her outside again, because that is where she lives, and we should never remove a creature from their environment for very long, for fear they might die.”
The girl’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Could we?”
Selene nodded again. “Most definitely. Let us take her back to the house.”
The girl nodded. They stood up, walking side by side, Lady Lenore cradling the beetle gently in her hand. Selene let out a sigh of relief. The girl’s fascination with the beetle had tempered her wild flight across the grounds, and now she could start her work for the day.
But then, her heart flipped, remembering the duke’s glowering face at the window. She tensed. She just knew she wasn’t going to get away with taking the girl for a walk before lessons. He was going to reprimand her. He was watching her, waiting for her to slip up, ready to pounce on her for the slightest mistake.
Selene raised her chin defiantly. Well, she would just deal with it when the time came.
“Come along,” she said to the girl, to quell her nerves. “I cannot wait to see Bessie the Beetle under the magnifying glass.”
***
They were just breaking for luncheon, and ready to place the beetle outside again, when Selene heard heavy, quick footsteps approaching. Already, she recognized that they belonged to the Iron Duke. She tensed, then stood up, smoothing the creases in her gown, with trembling hands.
He walked into the library, stopping short, glaring at her. Her heart flipped again. His dark, thick, wavy hair was falling over his face, and his almost black eyes were flashing impatiently. She felt a thrill shiver down her spine, the same as when she had spotted him at the window.
Do not pay attention to how handsome he is. Nor how tall and powerful. Focus on what you need to say in a calm, concise manner. Show him that you are worthy of this position.
She took a deep breath before curtsying. “Your Grace.”
She had barely finished rising when he started speaking.
