Page 16 of A Loving Governess in Disguise

Chapter 16

It had been very strange timing, Euterpe thought, when the letters arrived.

She couldn’t help smiling when the butler presented her with the silver tray. There were calling cards, several of them, and she was pleased that the duke had sent them to her. Perhaps, she thought, he had truly learned from his mistakes.

She had tried to be angry with him, but that was exactly why she had to hide herself away in her room; she did not want to be. She wanted to enjoy the presence of the handsome duke that made her feel unlike anyone else ever had. That was the real reason she would not have accepted another gentleman, she realized, not emotionally, at least. Despite herself, she had fallen for her employer.

It was, she decided, a very foolish thing to do. After all, she could love him to her heart’s content should such feelings ever grow, but it was not as though he would ever feel the same. Even if he did, she was no longer Euterpe Cheslyn, an eligible lady he could marry. She was Cecilia Pembroke, a servant. She hadn’t minded that when she first arrived, but now she was beginning to regret changing her name.

She shook her head, aware that Ella was watching and feeling rather foolish. She had to change her name upon her arrival so she could not be followed. The trouble came when she could no longer tell where Euterpe ended and Cecilia began. They were both her, but they were so different. They had to be.

“Are you going to open any of them?” Ella asked, looking up from her work. “If not, I do need some assistance with this problem.”

“I will look at them later.” Euterpe smiled. “After the lesson is over.”

“Very well, but if you are to be distracted by them, then I would rather you read them all now. I could do it for you if you wish, and then we can say that my reading lesson is done.”

Euterpe chuckled softly.

“Unfortunately, we do not have any reading to do today.”

She sighed dramatically, then smiled and pointed to the question she hadn’t understood. Euterpe chewed her lip; she had not enjoyed arithmetic as a girl, but she looked and looked at it, and at last, she understood it.

When the lesson ended and Ella left for lunch, Euterpe thought to open the letters, but she was quite overwhelmed by the number of them. For a fleeting moment, she was grateful to the duke for having done it all for her the first time, but only for a moment. She was still angry with him about it, but less so now he had apologized. She decided to open them that evening when she had more time.

But she did not do that. Instead, when she received an invitation to dinner with the duke, she accepted that. He was still trying to apologize, she thought, but it was perfectly fine for him to do so. Though she would never have admitted it aloud, she did enjoy the fact that he was giving her more attention than usual.

She chose a pale blue gown that Ella had insisted her uncle had made by the modiste. It was a beautiful satin dress that made a lovely sound as she walked. She pinned her hair up and wore the same jewels she had worn at the ball. They were, perhaps, a little much, but they were all she had on hand.

When she entered the dining hall, she was surprised by how the table had changed. It had always been in a formal setting, with the two guests on either side. When she dined with Ella, they simply moved the chairs themselves so that they could hear one another, but it seemed that the duke had already thought ahead and done it himself.

“My apologies,” he said. “I know it is not the most formal, and we can change it if you do not like it.”

“No! No, it is perfect.”

She took her seat, and the first course was served.

“Where is Ella?” she asked before raising her fork to her lips.

“She was tired this evening. It appears that her lessons were challenging today. For the first time, according to her.”

“Good, that means I have at last found something worth her while.”

“I should have warned you about that.” He chuckled. “Truly, she is very bright.”

“Indeed, but it seems I have been able to understand her abilities properly now. It is a shame that she could not join us, though.”

“I was actually thinking it would be nice for it to be the two of us. It hardly ever is.”

Euterpe was surprised that he had said those words. The duke himself seemed surprised. He looked away for a moment before seeming to decide that he had not said the wrong thing at all, looking back to her.

“Miss Pembroke,” he continued. “You are a wonderful governess, but that does not mean that your world must begin and end with my niece. I would like to know more about you and what your passions are.”

Nobody except Eloise and Charlotte had ever much cared about such things.

“I do enjoy taking long walks,” she said softly. “And trying new food. Actually, I saw a bakery in town with the strangest little treats on display. I would have loved to have tried them.”

“Then I shall send for some, and we can try them.”

She nodded, feeling her enthusiasm grow.

“I also– no, you shall think me barbaric.”

“I could never.”

“I once accompanied my father on a hunt, and though the hunting itself was unpleasant, I must admit that the expedition was thrilling. The quiet stillness of it, waiting to hear something that might or might not have even been there at all.”

“I didn’t know that– well–”

Euterpe panicked. She knew what he was trying to say, though he had stopped himself before he could say the words. He didn’t know that commoners went on such trips.

“They do when necessary,” she explained, uncertain whether it was the truth, “if one cannot afford meat, for example.”

She didn’t like the pity she received in response. He looked at her with sadness, clearly wondering just what sort of life she had known when, in truth, she had been very well cared for.

“We were not in such a position,” she explained quickly. “Rather, a friend was, and so we helped them.”

The ease with which she lied made her quite ashamed of herself. She was supposed to be a good and honest lady, and yet she found it very easy to be the opposite.

“Do you often help others?”

“Of course. If one is in a position to, then they always should. I cannot imagine being any other way.”

“I can see that. It is a very admirable trait.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I suppose I should ask you in return what passions you have.”

“In all honesty, I am much like my niece. I like to sit with a book and learn. I have hardly left the estate in the last year, and even then, I do not venture far beyond it. I would much rather play the pianoforte. You know, before I found a teacher for Ella, I was the one who gave her lessons.”

“How lovely. I was never any good at it, myself.”

“Your family had a pianoforte?”

“Yes,” she replied, trying to think of a quick explanation. “It was a gift from one of my father’s business partners. We were very fortunate, not that I ever made much use of it.”

“I could teach you if you wish.”

“That is very kind, but I am afraid I am quite hopeless with it all.”

“Allow me to try.”

He was looking at her so deeply, and he was so handsome, and she did not want to say no to him. It was dangerous just how quickly she had formed an attachment, especially knowing the impossibility of it all, but she wanted to believe in it. She wanted something good and could not simply let it slip through her fingers out of fear.

“Very well.”

And so, once they had finished their final course, they went to the music room. She sat at the pianoforte, fingers tentatively placed over the keys, and the duke stood behind her. She liked his presence, though when she noticed that, she froze a little.

“Your hands are too stiff,” he explained. “You must keep them light and soft.”

She tried to relax them, but in all honesty, she had never understood quite what that meant.

“Like this?” she asked.

“Almost, but you want to do it more like this–”

He took her hands in his gently, but his touch gave her more warmth than she had ever thought possible. He had lovely hands, and she couldn’t help flushing pink at the feel of him. She looked into his eyes for a moment, and he was already looking into hers.

A beautiful blue to drown in, she thought, morbid as it was.

“Yes, like this,” he whispered, adjusting her fingers and, agonizingly slowly, placing them back on the keys.

It was not helping her predicament of falling for him, but at that moment, Euterpe didn’t care. She was living in a beautiful home with a handsome man and a bright little girl. It was fun to play pretend and to make herself almost believe that such a life could one day be hers or even that it already was.

Unfortunately, kindness from a duke did not make learning to play a tune any easier. She was too stilted, uncertain of which key played which note. It was as impossible as it had always been, and eventually, she rose from her seat, laughing softly.

“We can try another time,” the duke offered.

“That would be lovely. In the meantime, might you play for me?”

He seemed almost timid at that moment. Euterpe knew why, of course: gentlemen did not habitually play the pianoforte, and it was a very romantic instrument. If he wanted to play well, he would have no choice but to do it with feeling. He would have to reveal, therefore, just what he felt.

And yet, he took his seat. Euterpe noticed that, as he raised his hands, he closed his eyes. He played a beautiful yet melancholic song, dark and slow, and he did not look at the keys once. It was as though he had played it so many times that he knew it by heart. For the first time, Euterpe truly felt the piece, a far cry from when she would dance along as Eloise played her cheery little melodies.

When he came to a stop, she had tears in her eyes. She felt strange, as it was such a silly thing to have felt so passionately, but when the duke at last looked up, she could see that he was the same.

“You play beautifully,” she whispered.

“One learns when he has nothing else to do.”

He rose from his seat and went to the window, looking out at the night sky.

“But you can do anything you wish,” she said, joining him.

“Yes, I can. It is strange, isn’t it, that you can have so much power and still not be able to doa single thing with it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you I have not left the estate in a year. That is true. The thought of it terrifies me.”

She looked at him in confusion. He was a duke, someone who had command over anything he wanted. Was it not a choice to be a recluse?

“You do not seem to be frightened of anything.”

“But I am. When I lost my sister and my brother-in-law, I was to go on a trip. It was a long one, right up to the Scottish border. When I heard of the accident, I cancelled it. It was easy to explain, of course, as I was in mourning, but then the mourning period ended, and I had a small child to care for, and still I did not leave. Carriages terrify me. When you went into town with Theodore, I sat in my study and wondered if there would be another accident and if I would lose both of you. I cannot bear the thought of it, so I do not take the risk.”

Euterpe remained silent, uncertain of what to say.

“Ella resents me for it, of course. She wishes to explore, to see more than the books in my library, but I cannot do it. I want to, but when the time comes, I am unable. She must hate me.”

“She certainly does not. She loves you, Your Grace. She always talks about you as if you are her greatest friend.”

“Besides the two of us and Theodore, she does not have any others.”

“Then we can change that. We can find some girls in the village of a similar age, perhaps older given her intellect, and invite them here. We can start with that, and as you feel ready, we can do more. It is possible.”

He looked at her in a way that she did not recognize. His eyes were bright, yet thoughtful, and though she did not dare believe it, she thought she could almost see hunger in them too.

“You are too good to me, Miss Pembroke.”

“You are a very easy gentleman to be good to.”

He held her face in his hand, his fingertips brushing her cheek gently. He truly was such a beautiful man, one she very much enjoyed looking at, but as he leaned closer to her, she instinctively closed her eyes.

Then she felt his lips press against hers.

She had never been kissed before and had never expected to feel so much from one. She had seen her father kiss her mother on the cheek once or twice, but there was never much passion in it. This, however, was something else entirely. She came alive beneath his touch, not wanting him to pull away.

But then he did, the shock of it in his eyes.

“Your Grace,” she whispered, “it is quite alright.”

He was relieved at her words.

They returned to the pianoforte for a while, and the duke played a happier melody, and then they left for bed. When Euterpe entered her room, however, she was met with that same tray of letters from before. With a half-sigh, she began opening and reading them. She discarded each one, knowing that after what had passed between herself and the duke, it would not be fair to any gentleman for her to let them believe she could have any sort of feelings for them.

Then, as she came to the final few, she lifted one, and her heart stopped. She recognized the writing; she would have recognized it anywhere. She knew precisely who had sent the beautiful letter in her hands at once.

It was Eloise.