It must be this way.
Slowly, with a trembling breath, Miss Lewis reached up and pried Lady Presholm’s fingers off her arm. She took a step toward him with a small nod, her shoulders held high.
“I promise, I willneverlay a hand on you,” he whispered to her only. “You will be safe and cared for as long as you are under my roof. I swear it.”
That was all she needed.
“I accept your offer, Your Grace,” she said, her voice growing stronger with every word. She turned to the Countess, her chin lifting. “I quit.”
Lady Presholm looked as though she might strike her, her hand flying up in a rush, but Ambrose moved instantly, stepping in front of Miss Lewis once more. She took her hand and wiped away a stray strand of hair, feigning innocence.
“Miss Lewis is part of my staff now,” Ambrose said, his blue eyes flashing with a warning that made even Lord Presholm shrink back. “Any insult to her is an insult to the Duke of Welton. Ifyou have any further grievances, you may take them up with my solicitors.”
Without another word, Ambrose placed a steadying hand on the small of Miss Lewis’ back and guided her out of the house.
Chapter Four
The heavy oak doors of the Welton townhouse clicked shut, sealing out the night and the venom of the Presholms that cloyed her veins. The quiet silence of the grand foyer hit Imogen with a rush. The adrenaline that had carried her across the divide vanished, replaced by a cold, hollow panic.
What have I done? Have I even thought this through? What will become of me? It was one thing when father died to follow Julia into Lord Presholm’s household, but now this?
“I… Your Grace, I cannot do this,” she whispered, her hands shaking so violently she had to tuck them into her sleeves. “This was a mistake. Lady Presholm will… She has ways of making things difficult for others. I should go back and apologize before it is too late, which it most certainly is.”
The Duke did not answer immediately. He placed a firm, grounding hand on her shoulder and guided her toward hisstudy, her body instinctively obeying his touch. The room was warm, smelling of old leather and expensive tobacco. He pointed to a wingback chair by a roaring fire.
“Sit,” he commanded, though the edge reserved for her former employers was gone from his voice. He crossed to a sideboard and poured a small measure of amber liquid into a glass. “Drink this. It’s medicinal.”
Imogen took a hesitant sip, the brandy burning a path down her throat. “I am not a governess, Your Grace. I am a maid. You’ve acted out of anger and indignation, and although your motives are most noble, you will regret this decision by morning.”
“I never regret my actions, Miss Lewis,” Ambrose said as he sat behind his desk, leaning forward into the candlelight. “Are you all right? Truly?”
“I am… shaken,” she admitted, her voice small. “But I am all right. Yes.”
“Has he done that before? Lord Presholm?”
She glanced down and bit her lip.
“Miss Lewis. You can tell me.”
She let out a long breath before looking back at him. “Lord Presholm… he… he has a wandering eye. And a short memory for boundaries,” she replied tactfully. “In contrast, the Countesshas a long memory and does not hesitate to hold grudges. I have been her personal maid since I was fifteen. It has not been a kind house, but it is a roof.”
“You will have more than a roof here,” the Duke said, his gaze steady and oddly reassuring for a near stranger’s. “You will have a door with a secure lock for your privacy, a respectable wage, and a household that views you as a person, not furniture, nor a tool. My staff are treated with decency.”
Imogen’s shoulders dropped an inch. The warmth of the room and the lack of judgment in his blue eyes were doing more to calm her than the brandy. “But… Pardon me, Your Grace… Why me? Surely there are dozens of qualified women in London who haven’t caused a neighborhood scandal.”
The Duke gave a short, dry laugh. “My last governess fled tonight because the boys greased the stairs and ran off one too many times. You, however, managed to make them apologize. To me. That is a feat I haven’t seen in all my trying. You have a gift for working with children, Miss Lewis. Do you have any siblings?” He paused, his eyes looking deeply into hers. “Tell me, where do you come from? And I would appreciate your honesty.”
This was the dangerous part. She had to consider her next words carefully.
“My father… He was a man of no importance, but of some means,” she lied, the words tasting like mud. She hated to lie. “He was fond of books and insisted I be tutored. But he fell on tough times during my adolescence… and made badinvestments. He passed away shortly after, and I was forced to find honest work or face the streets.”
The Duke nodded, seeming satisfied enough with her answer. “I am sorry about your father. I think he’d be happy if your education is put to use. I will pay you fifty pounds a year, with your own chambers and… let’s say, four days of leave a month?”
“Fifty pounds?” Imogen’s eyes widened. “Your Grace, that is nearly double… No, that ismorethan double?——”
“It is what the position is worth to me,” he interrupted. “I expect you to devote all your energy to bettering the boys. They are…difficult.”
“I will give them everything I have then, Your Grace,” she promised, the idea finally settling in her chest. Then, her voice softened. “May I ask… what happened to their parents? I noticed they mentioned France more than once. Is that of some import?”
