The Duke closed his eyes briefly, then rested a large hand on her small shoulder. “Do not leave my sight like that again.”
“I won’t.” She leaned closer. “Not unless there is somethingveryinteresting.”
“Theresa.”
“Nothing too interesting,” she corrected quickly.
Madeline hid a laugh behind her mitten.
Mrs. Hayward watched the exchange with keen eyes; her hands folded neatly in her lap. Madeline could almost feel the woman assessing her, turning this new stranger over in her mind, weighing her usefulness and potential reliability. The housekeeper said nothing, which made her silent scrutiny all the more pointed.
Once Tessa settled, the Duke turned toward Madeline. The shift was subtle but unmistakable: from father to Duke, reclaiming authority.
“I acted impulsively earlier,” he said. “That is not a habit of mine, but circumstances demanded quick decisions.” His gaze held hers for a moment that felt far longer than a heartbeat. “There is still much I need to know about you, Miss Watton.”
Madeline tensed slightly. “Of course, Your Grace.”
“Where did you learn to teach?” he asked.
“My father taught me, Your Grace,” she replied. “He believed languages were the door to the world, so he started me early. Later, I served as tutor for two families in Bath and Gloucestershire.”
“And why did you leave them?”
Her pulse fluttered. “Circumstances changed.”
“Circumstances?”
“Yes,” she said, though she offered no elaboration.
The Duke watched her closely, his eyes narrowing. Madeline kept her expression calm, though a flicker of heat touched her cheeks under his scrutiny. His gaze was not cruel, but it was piercing, far too perceptive for her comfort.
“And your methods?” he asked. “How do you handle difficult pupils?”
“It depends on what makes them difficult,” Madeline answered carefully. “Sometimes children are troublesome because they fear failure. Sometimes because they fear being judged harshly but most of the time simply because they wish to be understood. I try to find that root and work from there.”
His eyes warmed, though only faintly. “Gentleness over discipline.”
“Not always,” Madeline said. “But often gentleness teaches more than scolding does.”
Tessa nodded sagely. “I like her.”
“That is not the requirement,” the Duke said.
Madeline’s lips twitched. “No, but it is helpful.”
“Helpful,” he echoed, unimpressed. “We shall see.”
Her eyes met his again, and something in the quiet space between them seemed to stir, warm and bright and far too easily felt. A flutter rose in her stomach, light and unsteady. Madeline looked away quickly, afraid that if she held his gaze a moment longer, she might forget how to breathe altogether.
The Duke cleared his throat, shifting slightly. “When we arrive, the staff will prepare a room for you near Theresa’s. You will have access to the schoolroom and the library. Meals are taken at regular hours. You may dine with the servants or take your meals privately.”
Madeline nodded, her hands folding neatly in her lap as she tried to steady the quick beat of her pulse. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“You will be expected to accompany Tessa during her daily routines, assist her with lessons, and report directly to me regarding her progress.”
“I understand, Your Grace.” Her voice remained calm, but she felt the faintest tightening in her chest as he spoke, the realization settling that she had stepped into a life she did not yet understand.
He watched her again, his gaze tracing her features with that same thoughtful, searching quality she could not decipher. His eyes lingered for a moment too long on her mouth before lifting to her eyes once more.
