“Just know that half of what you have likely heard is not true.”
Octavia hid her frown as she considered this obvious warning.
She knew a little about Duke Ironvale, most of which was just rumor. Apparently, he had been married once before, until a tragedy struck his wife, leaving him a widow. All sorts of awfulthings were said about the cause of his wife’s death, many of which were surely exaggerated… or Octavia hoped they were.
All that was to say that what people said about the Duke, how cruel and cold and unkind he was, was hopefully far from the truth.
Then again, even if it was not made up, Octavia was so desperate that it made no difference to her.
“What of Master Aaron?” Octavia pressed gently. “Is there anything you might tell me of him? What is he like?”
“He is a boy like any other,” Miss Spencer said with a tight smile. “A little rough around the edges, but he means well. What he is missing is a mother, a softer touch which his father cannot give him. Why, I just know that the two of you will become the best of friends.”
“I am sure we will be.”
What I have heard of the Duke pales in comparison to that of the son. This home does seem rather pleasant, Miss Spencer is lovely, but I wonder if it is all a façade… a trick to lure me in so I cannot escape.
Not that it matters. What a depressing situation to be in, one where I have no choice, regardless of how true the rumors might be. Trick me. Trap me. So long as you hire me.
“I am just trying to think if there is anything else.” Miss Spencer scrunched her face. “We have been over your education, your experience, and, while it is not a technical requirement, I do have a way of reading people…” She raised a discerning eyebrow at Octavia, only to break into laughter. “Yes, just as I thought. Nothing wrong there.”
Octavia had been forced to lie about her education, easy to do as she was still well educated, even if it might not be seen as such by someone of the Duke’s standing. Octavia’s mother was her educator, and she had taught her well enough that if Octavia had to do, she could blend in with those far above her own station as if she was born to it.
As a child, Octavia had always thought it to be a waste of time. What did she need to be so educated for? Now, she felt untold amounts of relief as even from the grave, her mother was protecting her.
“I suppose that just leave the one obvious hurdle to leap,” Miss Spencer said.
“Oh?”
“I would hire you on the spot, were it up to me,” she said. “However, His Grace has the final say. All that is to say, I think it is time that the two of you met officially. A quick introduction, he might ask any questions he has, and then I dare say you will be our new governess.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Octavia said with a warm smile.
“Lovely.” Miss Spencer rose from her chair. “If you will just wait here for a moment, I will see if I can find him.”
Octavia held her smile as Miss Spencer hurried from the morning room. Once she was alone, Octavia allowed her gaze to drift over the rich interior of the room. Such wealth… such opulence. While the Duke owned several estates, he liked to spend the Season in London, meaning that this townhouse was merely a holiday home, and likely nothing compared to his manor.
This room alone is bigger than the one I share with Henry. And just one painting from the walls, one of those vases, and I could live like a queen for the rest of my life!
Octavia did not ponder too much on that nonsense, however. She was not here to judge, but to be judged. The interview had gone perfectly; she was sure to be hired shortly, after which she would finally have a path open to her that might one day give Henry and herself the life they both deserved.
All she needed to do was impress the Duke…
It was as Octavia’s eyes wandered the room that the door opened. She turned, expecting to see Miss Spencer, only for her mouth to drop open because the man who entered the morning room was certainly not Miss Spencer.
It took Octavia a moment to understand why the sight of this individual struck her with such surprise. He was tall and well built; his shoulders so wide that he almost needed to turn on hisside to step through the door. His hair was dark and thick, his face was angular and sharp, while his eyes… they were black pits, impossibly deep, and when they found Octavia’s own eyes, they locked on and trapped her so that she could not look away.
The sensation those eyes had on Octavia was felt in her soul, a memory that sent a shudder through her spine. She frowned, leaned back, wrapped her arms around herself as if it was suddenly cold, and then she came into herself suddenly.
“You!” she cried in realization.
This man, whoever he was, was the same one she had run into just last night. The same whom she had used to distract from Marcus and his men as they chased her.
He wore a fine suit. His hair was combed. A quick glance as she noticed the expensive ring on his finger, the gold chain of a watch that hung from his pocket, and even his leather shoes, which shone in the morning light. Whoever he was, he had gone and dressed himself up as a duke!
“What are you doing here?” she hissed and jumped to her feet.
“Excuse me?”
