“Rules exist for a reason,” Gabriel continued, folding his hands before him. “Without rules, there is disorder. Without order, there is chaos.”
His speech appeared well-practiced. Amelia suspected he had delivered some version of it many times before.
“Chaos sounds rather dramatic for two minutes,” she said before common sense could stop her.
Valerie suddenly let out a small snort. The sound surprised everyone, most of all Valerie. Gabriel slowly turned his head towards his niece.
“Do you find something amusing?” he asked.
Valerie immediately lowered her gaze to her plate. “Nothing, Uncle,” she replied with perfect composure.
Amelia bit the inside of her cheek. The situation would have been significantly easier if she possessed any ability whatsoeverto remain silent. Unfortunately, silence had never been among her talents.
Gabriel continued studying Valerie for another moment before returning his attention to Amelia. The Duke looked vaguely suspicious, as though convinced they were conspiring against him.
An entertaining thought, Amelia decided, watching Gabriel as he sat at the head of the table. Together, the four of them ate quietly. Only the clatter of spoons hitting the inside of a teacup broke the silence.
At last, he spoke again, breaking the quiet with the same controlled precision he seemed to apply to everything.
“Miss Shirley,” he said.
“Your Grace,” Amelia replied automatically, straightening slightly without meaning to.
“This is my niece, Miss Valerie Warring,” Gabriel continued.
Valerie inclined her head with careful politeness, every movement measured as though rehearsed.
“Miss Warring,” Amelia said warmly in return, offering a friendly smile.
“Miss Shirley,” Valerie replied.
The exchange was perfectly civil. And entirely cold.
Amelia recognized the feeling immediately. It was the kind of politeness that existed purely to disguise animosity. She had encountered it often enough in drawing rooms where smiles did not match intentions.
She studied Valerie more carefully. Winning her over would not be simple.
In some ways, Amelia suspected the girl might be more difficult than Gabriel himself. At least Gabriel did not pretend to approve of her presence. Valerie, on the other hand, concealed her judgment beneath flawless manners, which made it more difficult to read and therefore more dangerous in its own way.
David, meanwhile, appeared entirely unconcerned with much of anything. He was a child after all. He was currently constructing a precarious tower out of pieces of toast, stacking them with the concentration of a man building architecture that defied both logic and gravity. Amelia watched the structure grow taller with increasing alarm, though no one else at the table seemed inclined to intervene.
Apparently, this was normal. Then David pushed his plate away with decisive force. “I do not want porridge,” he announced.
Gabriel’s expression darkened almost imperceptibly, though the change was enough to make the atmosphere tighten.
“You ate porridge yesterday,” he said.
“I do not want it today,” David replied without hesitation.
“You will eat it.”
David crossed his arms. “No.”
Silence settled over the table with uncomfortable speed. Amelia became suddenly aware of the attention shifting toward her. Gabriel was watching her directly, Valerie was watching her indirectly, and David was now very deliberately refusing to acknowledge her existence at all.
Well. Two and a half sets of eyes, then. This is my responsibility now.
She suppressed the sigh that rose instinctively because apparently her first morning as governess had arrived not gently but in full force and with immediate demands.
