“I haven’t been in formal service before, Your Grace. But I’m a quick learner, and I’m willing to work hard.”
“No references, then?”
She shifted in her seat, rubbing her hands in her lap together as she kept her eyes focused on the ground. “No, Your Grace.”
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “Where are you from?”
“The north, Your Grace.”
He arched an eyebrow. “The north? You don’t have a northern accent.”
Eliza’s pulse spiked. She’d prepared for this. “I learned to speak properly through books, Your Grace. My mother worked at a merchant’s house, and they were kind enough to lend me their library. I suppose that is where I picked up his accent, his manner of speaking.”
“A merchant generous enough to lend books to a servant’s daughter.” His tone was neutral, but his emerald eyes were sharp. “That’s unusual.”
“They were kind people, Your Grace.”
“And where is your mother now?”
“I am all alone now, Your Grace.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” His expression softened fractionally.
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
Silence stretched between them. Eliza kept her gaze steady, willing herself not to avert her eyes, not to fidget, not to give anything away. She may as well have been gambling with fire, and her life was at stake.
Finally, the Duke leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. “You’re quite eloquent for someone who learned to speak from books alone.”
“I learned where I could along the way, Your Grace.” The lie came smoothly now. “And I’ve always had a good ear for speech.”
“Clearly.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “And you’re certain you can manage the work here? It’s demanding in a home so large as this.”
“I’m certain, Your Grace.”
He studied her for another long moment. Eliza felt his eyes on her like a weight, probing, searching her mind. She forced herself to remain still.
Then, abruptly, he said two words. “You’re hired.”
Eliza blinked. “I—what?”
“You’re hired, Miss Graham,” the Duke repeated, his tone matter of fact. “I’ve learned all I need to know.”
“But…” Eliza’s mind raced. “Your Grace, I… I did not expect this. I am ever so grateful for this opportunity. Thank you, truly.”
“You’re intelligent, well-spoken, and clearly capable of thinking on your feet. That’s more than enough for me.” He pulled a sheet of paper toward him and began writing. “Now, there are a few rules you should be aware of.”
Eliza stared at him, still trying to process what had just happened.
“First,” the Duke started, not looking up. “You are to keep away from my private chambers. My bedroom is off-limits to all staff unless I explicitly summon someone. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Grace. Of course.”
“Second, and more importantly, the boys you saw earlier, those are Arthur and Philip Lockhart. My closest friend’s nephews. They’re staying here for the next month. Under no circumstances are they to wander into my private chambers either. See that the rest of the staff are equally mindful.”
Ah, so that explains the relationship, she thought to herself, then frowned slightly.
The concerns about his quarters were… odd, but she assumed that he valued his privacy dearly.
