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A Governess for the Brooding Duke(19)

By:Bridget Barton




As they continued to stand there, Georgette rather thought that Mrs Griffin was suddenly a little nervous. She seemed to be leaning forward a little as if straining to hear, and Georgette wondered quite why it was that she did not merely knock on the door.



When she heard the chiming of a clock drifting out in a rather muffled way through the heavy wooden door, Georgette was entirely surprised to see the housekeeper suddenly straighten up and reach out to knock the door. For heaven’s sake, did that not take punctuality just a little beyond ordinary expectation?



“Enter,” came a rather deep voice from within and, once again, Georgette was reminded of the pompous butler. Quite clearly, the dreadful man had modeled himself on an amalgam of his betters.



“Your Grace,” Mrs Griffin said in simpering tones as she took two steps into the study and curtsied.



Georgette simply followed her in and mutely curtsied in the same fashion. “I have brought the new governess to see you,” Mrs Griffin said, and Georgette almost winced to hear how she was going to be introduced. After all, did she not have a name?



“Yes, of course,” the Duke said, looking up as if he had quite forgotten the whole thing and now found himself running short of time and greatly exasperated by their sudden appearance. “You may leave us, Mrs Griffin,” he said, without even looking at the woman.



Georgette watched out of the corner of her eye with some amusement as Mrs Griffin curtsied rather deeply once again and seemed to leave the room backward, almost as if the Duke of Draycott were, in fact, the King, and she dare not turn her back on him.



“Well, yes …” The Duke said, squinting at her and suddenly somewhat displeased. “Miss …” He seemed entirely wrong-footed by her appearance.



“Miss Darrington, Your Grace,” Georgette supplied helpfully.



“Oh yes, of course,” he said in an offhand manner which rather suggested that her name was neither here nor there, for he did not need or intend to commit it to memory. “And you arrived yesterday, did you not?” he said as if he was giving himself a moment or two to think.



“Indeed, I did, Your Grace. I arrived yesterday afternoon,” Georgette said and found his habit of not specifically looking at her as he spoke somewhat annoying. However, he was a Duke, and he could likely do just as he pleased.



As the Duke made some little performance of shuffling papers on his desk, Georgette made a quick study of the room. In truth, the study itself was not very much larger than the one that her father had maintained back in their Mayfair townhouse. But perhaps a study, unlike a drawing room, did not need to be proportionate to the size of the house. After all, it was the room of just one person with very few guests, saving attorneys and stewards and other such similar people, expected to attend it.



Had the room not been quite so filled with cabinets and dark shelves and a great number of ledgers and such the like, it might well have appeared as light and bright as the schoolroom. It had been painted in a very similar way although, whereas the schoolroom was a pale lemon, the Duke’s study was an extremely pale blue, rather like the sky in winter. It rather struck her as a curious colour for the Duke to have in his study, for most studies she had been in were really rather masculine affairs, with dark paintwork and heavy drapery, giving the whole thing the appearance of a cave or a large box.



However, the careful paintwork had done much to spare the room such a fate and the two immense windows did much to stop the dark woodwork and cluttered shelves from drawing the light from their surroundings.



The desk which the Duke sat behind was an extraordinarily heavy looking affair made of dark oak, and the papers upon it seemed to be in a measure of disarray. Georgette, being rather an orderly sort of woman herself, could not help letting her eyes settle upon the little mess.



“You come to me without references, Miss Darrington,” the Duke said so suddenly that Georgette looked sharply up from her study of his desk.



“That is correct, Your Grace. I have no references.”



“You have never worked as a governess before?”



“I have never worked as anything before, Your Grace.”



“But you have decided to become a governess?”



“I had no choice in the matter, Your Grace, but I have an extensive education and am confident that I can teach the children their essential learning and a number of accomplishments.”



“Indeed,” he said, giving no hint whatsoever with his tone whether he was pleased or displeased.



When he remained silent, Georgette decided to do the same. She was feeling suddenly rather nervous and could not help remembering Mr Shelford Winstanley’s description of the Duke as intimidating. Even in silence, she thought he was quite that.