Page 24 of Duke of Eccess (Seven Dukes of Sin #4)

“Miss Fields.”

Sitting behind the massive desk in his study, the Duke of Eccess regarded her intensely, his dark brown gaze unwavering. Hesitating in the doorframe, Temperance felt like the floor was slipping from under her feet.

The heat in his study and the comforting crackle of firewood burning in the fireplace had warmth creep through her cheeks—surely not because of the duke’s penetrating gaze, or his voice like velvet, like sin itself.

She’d been feeling all kinds of flustered since last night’s dinner.

She’d never remembered enjoying food as much as she had yesterday.

It was like she had become a whole new person for those few minutes when she’d allowed him to cover her eyes and feed her strawberries with whipped cream in the middle of December…

And that wine, Heaven help her! Finally Temperance could understand his drunkenness.

She’d always arrogantly thought that drinking too much was about weakness; she’d never considered it was also about the magnificent artistry of flavors playing in her mouth.

It was an entirely new world that had opened for her, and it had been within her all along.

“You asked for me, Your Grace?” Temperance said, feeling as light, as if she was made of naught but paper as she walked into his study.

“Indeed,” the Duke of Eccess said. “Come in. Sit.”

He was frowning. Scowling. Studying her as she walked in. He seemed more aloof today somehow. Yesterday, he had been all playfulness and softness, like the cream he had gently removed from her lips. Today he was a cold aristocrat with sharp features and dark eyes.

“I need your assistance.”

She had hoped…expected even for him to ask her something about food…

how she enjoyed it, if she was able to enjoy her breakfast this morning, which—he’d be happy to find out—she had.

Whenever the children hadn’t been looking at her, she’d closed her eyes and bit into her buttered toast with strawberry preserves.

She enjoyed it slowly and chewed like he’d taught her yesterday—savoring it, falling into the interplay of the sweet and creamy, the slight wisp of smoke in the crust, the smoothness of butter and the tartness of early summer in the berries.

Had he asked her, she’d be happy to regale him with this, expecting him to rejoice with her…

But he hadn’t. He wasn’t. This afternoon, it seemed, her employer wasn’t interested in her indulgences at all.

Rightfully so. She needed to be focused on her work and her goal, that was all. She especially did not need to think of his lips, his hands feeding her so gently, so expertly, the scent of him—the spices and masculine musk of a man.

“What can I do?” Temperance asked as she took the chair across from him.

“I’m afraid the unfortunate incident at the soirée two days ago has offended the prime minister and left me at a disadvantage in the race for the position I seek. So much so that a new candidate was invited to participate, a third one.”

He waved a folded letter in front of his displeased face.

Temperance felt heat creep into her cheeks.

The unfortunate incident was her fault, not James’s.

She’d apologized to him privately and confessed it was her foot that had caused the hubbub—but her private apology couldn’t take back the public embarrassment.

“I must do everything I can,” continued Eccess, “to enhance my chances. Just improving my reputation is not enough. So…this is embarrassing to admit, but I require you as a governess. For myself.”

Temperance frowned and shook her head, trying to decide if she had actually heard him correctly. “For yourself?”

“Indeed. I’m not proud of it but I think we know each other well enough now, and I feel I can reveal it to you… I will need more than my spoken French, with which I get by very well. I need to read and write in it…perfectly.”

“Oh. And you can’t?” It was surprising. The man was so confident, Temperance could not imagine him being second-rate at anything.

It was strange to see this tall, confident man shrink into himself a little.

“I’m afraid not. I’ve managed to hide the fact for most of my life, but I’ve always been hopeless when it comes to reading anything, not just French.

And my father…” He became slightly pale, his eyes gaining a haunted expression.

“According to my father, I had no wits. I was an embarrassment to him.”

A jolt of anger shot through her. The Duke of Eccess was most certainly not without wits! He liked to appear like he was simpleminded, dismissing serious matters as jests, but he was clearly underselling himself.

“That was very cruel of your father, I’m sorry to say.”

His brown gaze connected with hers. To her dismay, he seemed suddenly vulnerable. Which she would have though impossible for the largest man she’d ever seen in her life.

“He was cruel,” the duke said shortly. “Not just to me. When I was ten, on Stir-up Sunday, he’d caused Mama to give birth earlier than she should have.

When it was a daughter she bore and not a spare heir, he became impossible.

I don’t blame Mama for running away with my baby sister on Christmas Eve. ”

Every word hit Temperance straight in her chest. “Are they the ghosts plaguing you?” she asked before she could think.

When the man before her nodded, her heart reached for him, bled for him and for his family. She knew all too well the betrayals that family members could inflict. She opened her mouth to tell him that, wanting to share with him, tell him she understood more than he knew.

For the first time, Temperance considered telling the whole truth: her real name, her real story, that her tormentors had come to his house, and it was because of her that his application was in danger.

But she couldn’t. She’d lied to him and to the children for weeks now. It would be doing him no favors to tell him everything and embroil him even further in her scandal. And if she was caught, he could at least claim ignorance. The blame would fall on her alone.

All she needed was to wait it out, Temperance reminded herself. She must resist any emotions for her employer because in thirteen days, she’d be gone from his life forever.

“I hate that that happened to you, Your Grace,” she said, her throat tight. “You nevertheless grew up a capable and resourceful man.”

“Perhaps in some areas,” the Duke of Eccess said hoarsely. “Certainly your presence is helping me and the children in ways I’d never expected.”

You’re what I need…

Temperance’s stomach fluttered as she remembered his words. She should tell him the truth now. Surely, if she explained she wasn’t mad, he’d understand her like his friend, the Duke of Enveigh, had. He wouldn’t give her away.

But no. She best keep her mouth closed. She would be a fool to trust another person with her secret. The only one she should rely on was herself.

“Anyway, the reason I asked for you,” the Duke of Eccess said with a slow exhale, “is because my lack of skill in writing and reading French is catching up with me. As a child I had a tutor, of course, who was supposed to have taught me, but I’ve always been good at pretending and managed to fool him with charm and humor.

I’ve always been criticized for being unable to learn so I suppose I didn’t try harder, as I was led to believe it was pointless. But you…”

He slowly looked her up and down and a shiver ran through Temperance.

No , she thought, no, don’t do this now.

Don’t make me want what I can never have.

Don’t look at me like I matter when everything about me is a lie.

Don’t look at me like I’m the center of your attention when I’ll be gone in thirteen days and you’ll never know who I really was.

“You managed a miracle with the children who drove every governess to resign after a few weeks…so I thought, if you could achieve that, maybe you’ll help another hopeless student. Yours truly.”

She smiled, heart fluttering. “Of course, Your Grace. I’ll be happy to help.”

The Duke of Eccess nodded, relief relaxing his features. “Good. We’ll meet every day here, please. Would after luncheon and before afternoon tea be suitable?”

“Yes, most certainly.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded, suppressing the jolt of nervousness mixed with excitement and the thought of being alone with him. Would he try to kiss her again? Would she let him?

“Are you free now?” he asked brightly, though he looked a little nervous.

“I am, and I have just the book in mind. Give me a moment, please.”

Temperance swiftly went to the children’s bedchamber where they were playing and borrowed Sophie’s book with fables. After instructing them that she would be back in an hour, she returned to the Duke of Eccess and laid the book in front of him on his desk. He frowned. “A children’s book?”

“Indeed. It’s simple enough yet will keep your interest.” She flipped through the book until she found the fable she looked for. “Start with this one, please.”

The Duke of Eccess licked his lips and began slowly. “ La…petite…sou… ” He stopped, clearly frustrated. “Damnation. I know these words when I hear them, but seeing them written…”

“Entirely natural. Your ear for French is excellent. We just need to make the connection to the written text. Please, read the first sentence in your head. After that, please tell me what you believe it means.”

His lips moved without a sound. “A small mouse…visits his cousin?”

“That’s it! Let’s consider every word you’re uncertain about…”

They kept working through the text, discussing vocabulary, pronunciation, and meaning. After a while, he managed to read the full sentence, stumbling only a little.

“How did you find that, Your Grace?” Temperance asked.

“Like running through mud. But for the first time in my life I didn’t have to guess.”

“Well done, Your Grace. Let’s keep going.”