"And you believe yourself equipped to provide such guidance?" One dark eyebrow rose slightly, skepticism evident in the subtle gesture.
"I was raised to navigate those waters from birth, Your Grace." Lavinia kept her voice level, refusing to be cowed. "My mother ensured I understood every nuance of proper society beforeI made my own debut. Subsequently, I was responsible for preparing my younger sister for her introduction last season."
"Yes, Lady Frances." He nodded, moving to pace slowly behind his desk. "I believe I saw her at Lady Harrington's ball in May. She acquitted herself well."
Lavinia's chest tightened with unexpected pride. Frances had indeed shone that evening, despite wearing a dress that had been refashioned three times over as many seasons. "Thank you, Your Grace. She has always been a quick study."
"And yet," he paused to regard her with those penetrating eyes again, "I understand your own participation in society has been somewhat... limited of late. One wonders whether someone who has withdrawn from the very world she proposes to interpret might be the most suitable guide."
Heat rose to Lavinia's cheeks, but she maintained her composure. "Recent circumstances have indeed curtailed my social calendar, Your Grace. However, I would argue that observing society from a slight remove offers its own valuable perspective. One notices things when one is not caught up in the immediate whirl of events."
"A diplomatic answer," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly. "Though not, perhaps, an entirely truthful one."
Moira shifted in her chair, drawing the duke's attention. "Tristan, I have known Lavinia for many years, since her debut.Her understanding of society's intricacies would benefit Sophia immensely. Not to mention her unimpeachable character and level head—qualities I daresay your daughter could use in a companion."
"Indeed." He nodded to Moira before returning his attention to Lavinia. "And what of your family obligations, Lady Lavinia? I understand you are your sister's guardian. Would your duties here not conflict with that responsibility?"
"My sister is currently visiting friends," Lavinia replied carefully. "When she returns to London for the Season, I anticipate dividing my time between her needs and Lady Sophia's education, with your permission. As our residences would not be far removed, I believe the arrangement could be managed without neglect to either duty."
The duke studied her for a long moment, then moved to stand before a portrait that hung on the far wall. Lavinia allowed her gaze to follow his, taking in the painting of a delicate blonde woman whose serene expression did little to mask a certain distance in her pale blue eyes. The late duchess, undoubtedly, and nothing like the vibrant, dark-haired Scotswoman Moira had described as the duke's mother.
"I've heard certain rumors, Lady Lavinia," the duke said, his back still turned to her as he regarded the portrait. "About the circumstances that have led you to seek employment in a capacity that might once have seemed... beneath your station."
Lavinia's spine stiffened, and her fingers curled slightly into the fabric of her frock. "I'm certain Your Grace is far too discerning to put stock in mere rumors."
He turned then, the ghost of a smile playing about his lips. "Discerning. Yes, the Duchess used that very word to describe me in her letter."
"Accurate descriptions are a particular talent of mine," Moira interjected smoothly.
"Then perhaps you might describe, Lady Lavinia," the duke continued, ignoring Moira's comment, "how one in reduced circumstances could maintain the dedication necessary for such a position. Would not the urgency of your own situation potentially compromise your commitment to my daughter's education?"
The question hung in the air between them, its implication clear: he believed her financial need made her unsuitable, perhaps even untrustworthy. Something inside Lavinia—a spark that had lain dormant beneath months of careful restraint and dignified sacrifice—suddenly flared to life.
"Your Grace," she began, rising slowly from her chair to stand at her full height, "I find it curious that you would consider hardship a detriment rather than an asset in this context. Those who have known only privilege rarely understand the true value of what they possess, nor the effort required to maintain it."
His eyebrows rose slightly, but she continued before he could interrupt.
"Those of us who have experienced loss of station, security, and luxury develop a particular sort of resilience and sympathy that cannot be taught in more fortunate circumstances. Far from compromising my dedication, my experiences have only strengthened my determination to ensure that those in my care are equipped with every possible advantage."
Her heart pounded as she paused for breath, and she kept her chin up as she continued. "Your daughter deserves a guide who understands both the glittering surface of society and the treacherous currents beneath. I can provide that guidance because I have walked that path from multiple perspectives."
Silence fell over the room, and the duke regarded her with an expression she couldn't quite interpret. Interest, perhaps? Or challenge?
"Perhaps," he said finally, "we should continue this conversation at another time, Lady Lavinia."
Moira rose from her seat, placing a protective hand on Lavinia's shoulder. "A splendid idea, Your Grace. I'm certain Lavinia has given you much to consider." She squeezed gently, a silent commendation of Lavinia's spirited defense. "We shall await your decision at your convenience."
As they turned to leave, Lavinia felt the intensity of the duke's gaze following her to the door. She did not look back, maintaining her dignity with each step across the polished floor.
Only when they were seated in the carriage once more, pulling away from the imposing facade of Evermere Hall, did Lavinia allow her composure to crack.
"Of all the insufferable, arrogant—" She broke off, pressing her fingers to her temples. "I apologize, Your Grace. I fear I may have just ruined my chances with that outburst."
Moira's laugh was rich with delight. "My dear girl, if you had simpered and deferred, I would have been sorely disappointed. And more importantly, so would Tristan."
"The duke seemed far from impressed with my 'spirited' response," Lavinia countered, gazing back at Evermere Hall through the carriage window. The sunlight caught the windows again, making them flash like warning beacons. "I've never met a man so infuriatingly cold and judgmental in all my life."
"Haven't you?" Moira murmured.
