“Of course, Your Grace,” she nodded.
“Good.” He set down his pen and looked at her. “The boys are energetic and curious. If you’re assigned to help with them at all, keep them entertained and, above all, out of trouble. Their governess, Miss Winslow, is in charge, but she may appreciate an extra pair of hands from time to time.”
“I understand, Your Grace.” Eliza hesitated, then ventured, “And… what about your duchess, Your Grace? Does she have any particular instructions?”
“There is no duchess,” he said, matter-of-factly.
Eliza bit her lip. “Oh. I, I do apologize for the assumption, Your Grace.”
“It’s a reasonable assumption for a man of my age and standing.” His expression was unreadable. “The boys’ mother and father, they passed two years ago. Their uncle—and my friend—the Duke of Welton, is their guardian now.”
“Ah,” Eliza said softly.
“They’re not my sons. Only under my protection until their uncle is back from his honeymoon.”
“I see.” Eliza felt an unexpected flicker of relief in learning the truth of his household, which she quickly suppressed with a polite smile.
It didn’t matter. None of this mattered.
The Duke pushed the paper across the desk toward her. “Your wages will be thirty pounds per annum, in addition to board and lodging. It is above the usual rate for a housemaid. In return, I expect diligence and discretion.”
Eliza’s eyes widened. Thirty pounds. At her father’s house, even the upper housemaid had received no more than eighteen.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said quietly. “That’s very generous.”
“I prefer my servants well compensated,” he added coolly. “It discourages discontent. Now, where are you staying currently?”
“The Red Lion Inn, Your Grace. In the village.”
“I’ll send a footman to collect your effects and settle any accounts.”
“That’s not necessary, Your Grace. I can?—”
“Miss Graham.” His voice was firm but not unkind, its deep tone sending butterflies to her stomach. “You are in my service now. It will be managed. I prefer matters handled properly. Unless you have an objection?”
Eliza hesitated. She’d already paid her bill through the week, and her belongings were meager. A single bag with a spare dress, some undergarments, and the money she’d taken from her father’s study. But refusing would seem suspicious.
“No objection, Your Grace,” she said. “But I’ve already settled my account at the inn. There’s no need for you to pay.”
He nodded. “Very well. I’ll have your things brought here promptly. You’ll begin work now.”
He stood, signaling the end of the interview. Eliza rose quickly, her legs still unsteady. The Duke moved to the door and opened it, calling for Mrs. Dawson. The housekeeper appeared almost immediately.
“Mrs. Dawson, please show Miss Graham to her quarters. She’ll be joining the staff and will begin her work today. See she is properly introduced and acclimated.”
Mrs. Dawson’s surprise was evident, but she masked it quickly. “Of course, Your Grace.”
The Duke turned back to Eliza. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes. Curiosity, perhaps. Or suspicion.
“Welcome to Kirkhammer Hall, Miss Graham,” he said.
Eliza curtsied deeply. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Then, she followed Mrs. Dawson out of the study, her heart pounding as it seemed to do constantly.
She’d done it. She was safe. Hidden. For now.
As she walked through the grand corridors of Kirkhammer Hall, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the Duke of Kirkhammer saw far more than she wanted him to.
