As I did.
“Discussing today’s schedule is a priority over speaking about one’sfeelings,” he barked. “Pamela, you’ll finish your etiquette lesson by ten, then embroidery at eleven. I believe the governess has already arrived. Camelia, you’ll oversee her and the household accounts by noon. You need to arrange a meeting with the landscapers. The garden needs new flowers. After, you may join Pamela for luncheon. Pamela and I have to speak at two. No deviations.”
“Yes, Father,” Pamela said softly.
“Speak louder, child,” the Duke scolded, and she flinched at the sound.
Camelia’s fork paused mid-air. “Do not berate her. If she is not as loud as you are, then let her be.”
Pamela’s head snapped up, and she looked at Camelia with pleading eyes.
“The entire point of these lessons is to teach her how to speak confidently and assertively,” the Duke countered.
“And what you fail to realize is that it takes time! Something you are not aware of. I am sure that even you needed time to be titled the Iron-Clad Duke,” Camelia huffed.
“I am her father, and I will correct her when I please.”
“You cannot be a father and a tyrant.”
“If that tongue of yours keeps wagging—” The Duke broke off when he remembered they were not alone.
“Why not move your meeting with Pamela to three, after the heat breaks? She could use the extra study time anyway.”
Camelia planned to take the girl for a short afternoon walk. God knows they both needed the sunlight and fresh air.
The Duke’s eyes snapped to hers, dark and stormy. “Camelia, I expect no deviations. I said two o’clock, and it will remain two. Stop arguing with me for once and be compliant. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’m yourwife, not a servant. A small change won’t ruin your precious schedule. Pamela, don’t you think three would be better?”
“I-I don’t know,” Pamela stammered.
Raph’s jaw ticked in that way it did whenever Camelia purposefully argued with him.
“I have heard enough from both of you. The schedule stands; no arguments and no changes will be allowed from now on. Pamela, eat. And Camelia, stop stirring trouble.”
Camelia’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded curtly. “Fine. Two it is.”
Pamela shrank in her seat as if she wanted to disappear.
The Duke shoved his chair back, standing abruptly. “Finish your meals and get to work.”
He strode out without a second glance, the door slamming shut behind him.
Camelia released a breath and turned to Pamela, who looked smaller than earlier.
“Pamela, don’t let him frighten you. He’s in a mood, but I’m sure it’s not your fault.”
“You’re wrong,” she responded with the same fire her father displayed.
“I’m wrong about what?”
“It is my fault.”
“Pamela, darling, there’s no way this is your?—”
“He’s always like this… around this time of year.”
Camelia was caught off guard by her words.
