Page 17 of Cinderella's Charade With the Duke
She was stunned by his belief in her, so much so that she tumbled into her next question without hesitation, leaning forward. ‘And if I agreed, when would I be presented to your friends as this Lady Penelope Denning?’
‘Next weekend at the ball celebrating my succession as Duke of Wimberley,’ he replied, holding her gaze. He said it with confidence and certainty as if a mere week was all the time anyone would need to prepare her for such an event. She was quite certain His Grace, despite being as young as he was, had lost his faculties.
‘Seven days?’ Miss Potts asked after staring at him blankly. Her brown eyes widened further in alarm.
William shifted in his chair. ‘Yes,’ he answered simply. His pulse increased with each enquiry she made. He hadn’t expected to even be able to keep her in the room this long, let alone have her asking questions as tohowthis whole scheme might work. He should have planned for more success and thought the next steps of his plan through.
Especially when the woman might just say yes. Hope flickered in him.
‘How would that be possible?’ she asked.
‘As you have noted, I am a duke. You would be amazed at how quickly I can acquire anything I need. People fall over themselves to please me.’ His answer sounded entitled and snobbish, but he needed to prove his point.
She scrunched her nose at him and his answer, which made her look even younger, and he chuckled in amusement.
‘I did not say it was not distasteful, but it is true. Arrogance aside, whatever you need, or whatever the household needs to make you into Lady Penelope Denning, can be acquired and acquired quickly.’
‘You do not worry that the people supplying what you require will expose your scheme?’ Her brow furrowed.
‘There is a tight circle of those who I know have great discretion and I would not stray outside of those trusted few for what is needed. Dressmakers, stylists, and those versed in etiquette will support us in our ruse.’
She looked down at her hands in her lap and fidgeted with her gown. Her hands were small, delicate and strong, much like her. The more he studied her features, the more surprising little treasures of loveliness he discovered.
Another minute passed. There was something else concerning her, but he did not know what it was.
She finally glanced up and met his gaze, looking every bit as timid and small as the brown wren she appeared to be when she’d first emerged from his carriage a week ago. ‘As much as I am…honoured by your belief in me, Your Grace, I do not believe anyone would look at me and not see what I truly am.’
‘And what is that?’ he asked, not understanding her meaning.
‘I am an orphan from Stow with no real family or breeding.’ She said this with certainty and finality as if this single sentence explained all.
It didn’t. He waited for her to continue. ‘I do not quite understand,’ he finally said, hoping for more.
‘I know nothing of the finer ways of Society,’ she continued. ‘Travelling here was the first time I have been in anything other than a cramped stagecoach. Before my employment here, I had never seen the inside of a fancy estate outside of what my imagination had allowed me to create from the books I have read. Those in your world would root out our deception before it even started. No one would believe I was a lady of any means or import despite all the finery you wrap me in.’ She released a shaky breath and her shoulders relaxed as if she had finally confessed to a horrible crime: that of her birth.
The uncertainty and vulnerability of her words shifted something deep inside him. How long had it been since anyone had been so honest with him and exposed such to him? Far too long.
It made him more determined than ever to believe in her more than she believed in herself. He wanted to be her champion and for her to know how grateful he was that she was willing to embark on this with him for the sake of his daughter.
‘I do not know you well, Miss Potts, but from what I have seen of you, I think you underestimate yourself. You came to Blithe Manor alone, to a place you did not know and to work for a family you also did not know. You dared stretch yourself to a place of discomfort to change your life. You can do this, too. It is for a fortnight starting from today. One week to prepare and one week to stay on here in case there are questions thetonneeds answers to, then it will be done and you can be simply Miss Potts, governess, once again.’ The more he talked, the more he believed in his own success, and hers, which could change his daughter’s life as well as his.
‘I want desperately to have something more, Your Grace.’ She met his gaze and continued. ‘For myself and my friends. I just do not know if this…this dishonesty is the way to achieve that.’ Her fingers worked nervously in her lap and she shifted in herchair. Her struggle was palpable and it moved him. Most ladies in her situation would have cast aside any moral discomfort with dishonesty and agreed readily, but not her.
And he was beyond intrigued to know why. This would change her life.
‘What is it you are most worried about, Miss Potts? Do you have want for more money? I can offer you a handsome lump sum outside your salary as governess. I know this is a risk you take. What amount would properly compensate you?’ Perhaps it was the money, but she didn’t seem driven by material things based on her simple wardrobe.
‘No, not at all, Your Grace,’ she stumbled out. ‘Whatever you wish to offer is more than enough. I just do not wish to stain what little reputation I have or bring shame upon those around me when the truth comes out. My reputation is the only thing I truly possess that has worth.’
‘And how do you know the truth would be exposed?’ he asked. ‘I would tell no one.’
She tilted her head at him. ‘The truth always comes out. There is no way to prevent it,’ she replied as if this was the most obvious known fact in the world.
It was his turn to shift uncomfortably in his chair. She did not know thetonas he did. She believed the truth was the truth and lies were lies. ‘Thetonoperates on a certain level of grey and untruths, Miss Potts. I am somewhat pleased that you have no understanding of the way in which it and the people within it operate.’
‘I am unsure as to what you mean.’ She narrowed her brow.
‘You speak of lies and truth as if they were black and white with nothing in between. What I suggest to you is that the wealthiest of society and those within it choose to often ignore the truth and embrace the grey in between what is truth and fiction for their own gain.’
