Page 9 of Cinderella's Charade With the Duke
It was rare Hattie was struck dumb, but it seemed the man had a penchant for it. She didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or complimented. She stared up at him and then dropped her gaze to her lap. How she managed his words was her choice. So, what would she choose? It was not too late to refuse. She had only just arrived. Then she thought of the small girl with her wide blue eyes and cherub face peeking out the door at her earlier that afternoon. Hattie understood that look and thefear of uncertainty accompanying it. The girl deserved Hattie to at least try.
She lifted her head and matched the Duke of Wimberley’s gaze. ‘Then I shall try to live up to your expectations, Your Grace.’
He sighed and his shoulders dropped. ‘Thank you, Miss Potts. That is all I require.’ His relief was evident and she knew she’d made the right decision.
Just then, his daughter came rushing into the study and raised her open arms to him. He smiled and picked her up with ease. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck.
‘Well timed, my sweet,’ he cooed to his little girl as they touched noses. ‘This is my daughter, Millie, Miss Potts. And, Millie, this is Miss Potts…your new governess. You will have many adventures together.’
Hattie smiled at the little girl who watched her with hesitation, but said nothing. She pressed her lips together and clutched her father more tightly. The girl’s fear and silence pained Hattie more than she wished to admit, but she held her smile. ‘It’s very good to meet you, Lady Millie,’ she offered.
A young nurse came to the doorway out of breath. ‘My apologies, Your Grace. She wished to see you and I could not catch her in time.’
‘No apology needed, Miss Bellows. I know how fleet of foot she can be. Now run along, my girl, I must finish speaking with Miss Potts.’ He pressed a kiss to her cheek, set her down and the girl ran obediently to Miss Bellows.
The girl’s quietness reminded Hattie of herself when she had first arrived at the orphanage and a knot formed in Hattie’s stomach. Looking at the young girl who had lost her mother so young was like looking at herself somehow. It affected her more than she expected and the knot in her stomach grew until shefeared she might be ill right there on His Grace’s lovely and quite expensive-looking rugs.
Once the nurse and her charge were out of earshot, His Grace approached Hattie, sat in the chair opposite her once more and leaned forward, his voice sincere and a pitch lower, and threaded with what sounded like desperation. ‘I am grateful for you being willing to try,’ he said. ‘In a fortnight, we will meet again to discuss the next steps, whether they are continued future employment here or travel plans back to Stow. Before then, I will expect a daily summary of your interactions with her and any updates on her progress.’
She nodded.
‘I can only imagine your fatigue from your journey. Please rest this afternoon and get settled in. Your time with Millie can begin in the morning. She usually rises at half past seven. Do you have any questions?’
Hattie had so many questions she didn’t know where to begin, but she swallowed them down along with her aching memories of her own childhood and shook her head. She set a protective smile on her face as she’d learned to do a thousand times before and replied, ‘Not at present, Your Grace.’
‘Then, it is settled. I will see you in the morning, Miss Potts.’ He stared at her and she realised this was her cue to leave. She stood, gave a slight bow and left, her stomach still churning. She exited the room and headed out of the Manor. Fresh air would settle her as it always did. No doubt, little Millie was probably the same.
Hattie sucked in one deep breath after another and lifted her face to the warm sun as the gravel crunched under her feet and she made her way to the lawn that led to the beautiful gardens and lake beyond it. Her pulse settled and the knot in her stomach loosened its hold. Just when she thought she’d left thememories of the past behind her, they had rushed to the surface and caught her off guard.
She released a shuddering breath. The Duke of Wimberley was right about one thing: she understood Millie and how she felt about losing her mother. Hattie lifted her skirts and walked through a patch of thick grass, feeling more anchored and settled than she had in the opulence of Blithe Manor now that she had her feet planted firmly on the ground and fresh air rushed through her lungs. The irony was not lost on her. She smiled. She knew what she and Millie would do tomorrow morning that would set both their hearts and minds at ease at their first real meeting with one another.
Chapter Four
Despite the arrival of the governess yesterday, William’s sleep hadn’t improved. He’d slept fitfully and wrestled down a mere three to four hours of rest at most. He had finally succumbed to the day and risen at five in the morning after tossing and turning for over two hours. He’d added to his own melancholy by sifting through the still-teetering pile of correspondence he had put off day after day. Now, the sun was rising almost two hours later and the soft faint rays of dawn streamed through his study window, shedding light on his progress.
He stared at the piles he now had before him to attend to: decline, accept, reply and pay. At least he had sorted the mess and the silver salver was almost empty, so he commended himself for his work. There was little else to celebrate. Being Duke was bloody hard work. He glanced to his father’s portrait and smiled.
‘How did you make it look so easy, Father?’ he asked out loud.
‘He asked for help, Your Grace,’ Simmons replied from the doorway before he entered carrying the tea William desperately needed, but hadn’t thought to ask for hours ago.
He couldn’t help but chuckle good-naturedly at Simmons for his timing and the truth in what he’d said. The man knew him well. Perhaps better than William knew himself.
‘That is not one of my strengths, Simmons, as you well know.’
His loyal butler handed William the warm cup of tea and replied. ‘Which is why I am reminding you.’ There was a small quirk to his mouth before he clasped his hands behind his back and waited for William’s orders.
He sipped from the tea and let the warmth settle through him before he replied. ‘If you can send out this current pile of declines,’ he said, pointing to the much larger stack of invitations, pausing before then placing his hand on a much smaller, thinner pile, ‘and then these acceptances, I will pay the bills and draft my correspondence to my cousin.’
‘Lady Buchanan?’
‘Yes,’ William replied with a sigh and took another sip of his tea. ‘She is quite persistent about my need to askspecificladies to dance at the upcoming ball. I fear if I do not reply to her soon, she will have me placed in an uncompromising position to hasten along a betrothal.’
‘Perhaps,’ Simmons replied with a smirk before regaining his generally dour expression. ‘I will set to sending out your acceptances and declines immediately, Your Grace, so you can attend to your correspondence. I can then have one of the footmen gather it from you mid-morning and send out all of the correspondence at once. If that pleases you, of course.’
‘A fine idea. The sooner she receives a reply the better, for all of us.’ He stood and stretched, groaning from the pull of the tight muscles in his back and neck after sitting and bending over reading by candlelight for so long. ‘But I will have a walk, break my fast and then begin.’
Who knew what he might reply to his cousin without some food in his stomach?
