"Slow down, Mari, where are your manners?" Mrs Lewisham scolded.
Snatching up the letter, she saw that the heavy wax seal was rich and imprinted with a lion crest. She ripped the parchment open and then quickly closed it in excitement.
"It is from the duke!"
Maribel had applied to a governess role for the Duke of Avondale's daughter and had been eagerly awaiting a response. Pausing for a moment, she tried to calm herself, her good sense reminding her it may not be the answer she wanted. Taking a deep breath, she opened the letter and read the contents.
Miss Maribel Lewisham,
The Duke of Avondale, Thomas Denby, seeks your employment in the position of governess to his daughter. Please come prepared, including any belongings you need, as if a suitable fit, you will be required to start immediately…
An interview? With a duke? She had assumed a steward or the butler would be conducting the interview. The duke himself? And to move in straight away!
"Mari, what is it?" her mother asked anxiously, knowing how much this news would mean to her.
'The Duke of Avondale wants to interview me. He, himself. A duke!"
"Freddy, our Mari is going to meet a duke," Richard stated in awe.
"This is wonderful news, Maribel! Wipe the concern from your face. You are educated and well-mannered. And he may be a duke, but title aside, he is just a human. Like you. Like us."
Maribel nodded her head slowly. Her mother spoke true, of course.
But it did not make her any less nervous. She was aware of the Duke of Avondale for reasons aside from his need of a governess. The women of the ton found him a most desirable marriage partner, and season after season, he had not taken a bride, despite being widowed for the last eight years. She had heard he was charming and attractive but also cold and rigid. That was the natural state of a duke though, was it not? Maribel hugged her mother and brothers, telling them she needed to go prepare, but really, she wanted a moment alone. As eager as she was for this opportunity, the reality of leaving her family was starting to dawn on her. Throwing herself on her bed, she looked up at the wooden ceiling and tried to calm her racing thoughts.
One at a time, she told herself, always frustrated when she could not catch a single thought. Instead, when her emotions heightened, they flurried around her mind like a blizzard. Shaking her head with such vigour that her bonnet flew off, she took the opportunity to knead her scalp, massaging away some of the tension.
She heard a self-important meow and looked to the door as Mr Whiskers strolled in, meeting his haughty expression.
“Mr Whiskers, I shall take you with me.”
The black feline, short-haired and sleek, had been her closest confidante for six years. She had found the kitten asleep in the barn atop a bale of hay. When she had gently nudged him, one eye had opened and he had released a menacing meow. They had been inseparable ever since.
“Enough with the dillydallying! It is time to prepare.”
Mr Whiskers was well-accustomed to her change in moods and paid no mind as she went from procrastinating to pacing and gathering her wits. The moment she had been waiting for had arrived.
Chapter Two
The Duke of Avondale, Thomas Denby, was not a man known for his patience. Nor was he reasonable. And he simply did not care. In the years since he had been widowed, he had made his peace with the reality of raising his daughter alone. But by raise, he really meant oversee. She was a girl after all. And he loved the sweet child, impish as she was, always wreaking havoc throughout his halls. All he sought was a governess with a spine of steel, who would not faint at the sight of a worm on her pillow or cry tears of frustration at dealing with a stubborn child. Each previous governess—there had been four now—had been interviewed by his steward. This time, Thomas would be doing the interview himself to ascertain the mettle of the woman and not waste his time. He pictured a bland woman, having assumed she would be plain, otherwise why be a governess. Even a middle-class maiden of beauty could marry into a comfortable life. Instead of being in London, he was waiting for this gentlewoman. If she met his requirements, he could continue his social life in London soon enough.
Thomas sat at his desk, tapping the heavy wood with impatience. He had said noon, and according to the pocket watch that lay open before him, it was almost that time. It was not a positive sign that she lacked the good sense to arrive early instead of right on time. Scowling, he stood and paced the length of the room. How very impertinent she must be!
A few moments later, there was a rap on the door. “Enter.”
He did not turn immediately, wanting to calm his frustration.
“Your Grace, I have Miss Maribel Lewisham here to be interviewed for the position of governess.”
“Thank you, that will be all.”
Footsteps left the room, and the door shut.
Then, in the silence of the room, a throat cleared.
Thomas knew it was rude that he still had his back to the woman, nor had he greeted her properly, but to clear her throat? Impertinence!
Turning around with his glare firmly in place, he faced her. His frustration was quickly replaced by surprise, and his brows lifted at the attractive girl that stood before him. He was equally dumbfounded by her disapproving look.
