Page 34 of The Iron Duke's Flaming Christmas
“My dress itches,” complained Lady Lenore, frowning, wriggling as she walked beside Selene down the hallway. “And I do not like the color of the ribbons in my hair!”
Selene glanced at the little girl. Lenore was trussed up like a roasted goose, in a starched, frilly pink gown, with matching ribbons in her hair. They had received summons half an hour ago to go to the drawing room to greet the houseguests who had arrived that afternoon, and Mrs. Kittles had been in a tizzy to get Lenore properly dressed in time.
“You look very pretty,” said Selene, in a low voice, trying to calm her pupil. “Lord Mastiff and Lady Gwen will be entranced by you, my lady.”
Lenore pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. She didn’t look particularly impressed to greet the houseguests, and Selene didn’t blame her. She didn’t want to greet them either, even if she was just on hand to control Lenore, and nothing else. No one would take notice of the governess, after all.
She could barely breathe thinking about the duke. She hadn’t seen him at all today. Her heart had leapt every time sheheard footsteps along the hallway, when she had been teaching Lenore, but it was never him.
Perhaps last night in the library never happened. Perhaps I dreamt it…perhaps it was a continuation of my first dream…
But she knew that wasn’t true. The tenderness between her legs today testified to that—as did her skin, which was still tingling from his touch.
She still couldn’t believe it had happened. She simply had no idea how she felt about it yet. A part of her was still glorying in the wonder of the most incredible experience of her life—while another part was filled with angst and regret.
They reached the drawing room, which looked quite wonderful and festive with the decorations they had hung yesterday. Her heart trembled when she saw the duke, leaning against the mantelpiece, looking devilishly handsome in a smart green jacket, his dark hair still as tousled as the night before.
An older gentleman with steel gray hair and a bushy gray twirling moustache stood next to him. A young lady, probably around her own age, was seated in an armchair, sipping a cup of tea.
Selene studied her quickly. Lady Gwen was beautiful, just as Mrs. Kittles had said, and very elegant. She had golden hair, with tight curls framing her face, and was wearing a fashionableblue checkered silk gown, with a very high waistline, and cream-colored lace along the bodice. When she turned to look at them, Selene saw that her eyes were cornflower blue, but very cold.
“Ah, here she is,” said the older gentleman, beaming at Lenore. “My, you have grown, my lady!”
Lenore executed a clumsy curtsy, looking embarrassed. “My lord,” she said. “My lady.”
“Oh, what a doll,” cried Lady Gwen, smiling at her. “Come here and talk to me, Miss Lenore.”
Lenore hesitated, gazing up at Selene, who nodded, gently pushing her toward the lady. As Lenore slowly walked toward Lady Gwen, Selene started walking toward a chair in the corner, to wait for Lenore, as was the proper thing to do in this situation. The governess was never expected to socialize with the guests. Mrs. Kittles had been very strict about that when they had been getting ready to greet them.
If only Mrs. Kittles knew that I am unredeemable and have broken with propriety entirely… by making passionate love with the master on a desk in the library.
Her cheeks started to burn thinking about it. She turned, unable to resist glancing at the duke again, but he was focused on Lenore, and not looking at her at all. Her heart hit the ground with a crash. Was he going to ignore her entirely now that he hadhis wicked way with her? Was that how things worked with these kinds of affairs?
“And who are you?” asked Lady Gwen abruptly, her voice ringing out in the air. “Are you the new governess?”
Selene froze, feeling rather like a deer catching a whiff of a wolf’s scent, turning around slowly to face the lady, who was frowning slightly as she gazed at her, her beautiful face set in a grim line.
“How astute of you, my lady,” said the duke, in a dry voice. “This is Miss Bomind, and yes, she is Lenore’s new governess.”
Selene curtsied quickly. “My lady. My lord.” She turned to the duke, staring him straight in the eye, her heart racing. “Your Grace.”
“You have managed to find a very pretty governess, Your Grace,” remarked Lady Gwen, still staring at Selene, with a hard look on her face. “Did you decide to choose appearance over aptitude and intelligence this time?”
Shocked, Selene turned to the lady, blinking rapidly. The duke laughed, in an awkward way.
The lady stood up, slowly approaching her. Selene raised her chin, gazing at the lady. If this woman thought she was goingto intimidate her, she had better think again. Lady Gwen Pretner seemed to have taken an instant dislike toward her, and she had no idea why. She hadn’t even opened her mouth.
“Where did you train, Miss Bomind?” asked the lady, with a dazzling smile. “Were you convent educated?”
“Alas, I was not, my lady,” replied Selene. She paused. “I was educated at the local school in Trenton, and my father schooled me at home when I left, in the classics, mathematics, and history.”
There was a sudden silence. The lady arched her eyebrows, looking amazed.
“What?” she cried, shaking her head incredulously. “You are a local? Are you not even an impoverished genteel lady down on her luck like the rest of them?”
Selene flushed. The lady was clearly making fun of her, and the duke was just standing there, letting her do it.
“I am well educated, my lady,” said Selene, in a sharp voice. “I do assure you that I have all the necessary skills to teach Lady Lenore properly.” She paused. “And as for aptitude and intelligence… well, I possess both, in equal measure. I find my appearance has nothing to do with fulfilling my duties at all.”
