Page 5 of Duke of Eccess (Seven Dukes of Sin #4)
Seven and twenty days more.
That was all Temperance needed to survive before her birthday would make her free and wealthy.
Temperance shivered against the cold and drew the edges of her pelisse closer. The late November wind on Coburg Street in Mayfair bit through all the layers of clothing she had on. The sky hung leaden and somber, sending harsh gusts of snow into her face that prickled her skin like needles.
Even though noon had recently chimed from a nearby church, the street looked dark. A snowstorm must be coming.
She had spent the last week in the almshouse for women in Whitechapel run by Miss Grace Lockhart, furiously not thinking about that kiss from the blackguard in the street—but staying in the almshouse was no longer an option.
Pregnant women and young mothers who needed a place to shelter from winter much more than she did were arriving every day. It was time for her to move on.
And her solution was right in front of her.
A beautiful London house belonging to the Duke of Eccess, who was looking for a governess for three children, as an advertisement in the London Times said.
This was Temperance’s chance to hide in plain sight —invisible to the society that would recognize Lady Agatha Hale as the Mad Heiress.
She hadn’t responded to the advertisement in writing as was usually done since there was simply no time, so her chances were slim.
But she had to try.
With her runaway bag clutched tightly in her hand, she approached the house.
It was huge—a four-story building, it was large enough to have contained three of her father’s London house, which was only six streets down, where her stepmother and Bartholomew no doubt stayed now while hunting for her in London.
Pristine white, with Palladian architecture and tall bay windows, the house showcased a Greek pantheon centered on Dionysus, the god of wine and indulgence, wearing the characteristic vines of ivy crowning his head and holding a cluster of grapes in his hand.
Normally the crisp scent of snow in the air brought Temperance joy and domestic peace.
Papa would be preparing for her birthday, making the whole Advent season full of surprises.
They would nest in the house, perform experiments, read books, and discuss science in front of a warm coal grate in his library.
Now…standing alone on the street, no home to shelter her from the weather, Temperance had never felt his absence so acutely.
Tears burned her eyes as she stopped in front of the wide staircase leading up to the front door under a portico supported by columns.
All she had to do was observe her feelings and emotions like her father had taught her.
To accept the sadness, the desperation, the anger, and collect herself before going up those stairs, knocking on the door, where she would be challenged to make the biggest sale in her life… herself.
But before Temperance could take her first step, the large dark wooden doors burst open with a loud crack and a gray-haired woman in a brown gown ran out.
Her pelisse was unbuttoned and a small valise hung from in her hand with a piece of clothing peeking out from the slit.
Her eyes bulged as a raw egg slid down from under her undone bonnet.
At the bottom of the stairs she stopped, retrieved a handkerchief, and began rubbing the egg from her pelisse.
Temperance approached her. “Are you all right?”
The woman scoffed. “I am now—from the moment I stepped out of that house!”
A nervous shiver ran through Temperance. She ached to know who the woman was and why she was in such distress—and with an egg sliding down her face—but she didn’t dare ask. “Is this Dulcis Court?”
The woman’s head shot up and her gaze looked her over. “Why?”
“I’m applying for the position of governess in response to the advert.”
The woman tilted her head back and let out a laugh that sounded like a caw. She seemed on the brink of hysteria. “Listen to me. Turn around and leave! Those little devils will drive you mad.”
And then she was off, her heels clicking furiously against the flagstones as she hurried away.
Temperance’s stomach churned in a dark premonition. Had those children thrown an egg at the woman’s face? How bad could they be?
On the other hand, it seemed the position of governess had just become available.
She had to take her chances. With no money and no other place to hide, she had few options. A governess was akin to a servant. Confined to the children’s bedchamber and schoolroom, almost never seen by the lord and lady of the house…that would fit her perfectly until Christmas Day.
Christmas Day, and freedom.
Temperance climbed the stairs and knocked.
The door opened, revealing a butler—a man probably in his fifties—who stared at her coldly. “Yes?”
“Good day,” she said as brightly as she could manage, her pulse throbbing in her fingertips. “I’m here for the position of governess.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No. But I was hoping?—”
A female scream sounded in the house behind him.
In the well-lit entrance hall, there was a blur of activity.
A maid dusted the sideboard and another swept the floor.
Three footmen carried trays with food. Three children—a golden-haired girl nearing adolescence, a girl much younger, and a boy of an age in between—followed them.
The boy stole bites to eat from the trays, and the younger girl made a footman trip, the tray of pastries flying through the air, the food scattering across the floor, the tray bouncing off the tiles with a loud clatter.
Through the open doors, Temperance could see a beautiful room being prepared for a soirée.
That was surely a warning sign. Was this typical?
It was one thing to be responsible for unruly children; quite another to be part of a household where many social events occurred, despite London being almost free of the ton as most of society was spending the winter in their country estates.
Perhaps she’d best find another solution. Another home looking for a governess…
“Forgive me,” Temperance said weakly, turning around. “I had better?—”
But before she could finish her sentence, a large man on a stunning chestnut horse galloped through the snowy cold and stopped abruptly right in front of the house.
The huge animal, the size of the man, and the way he halted it so masterfully all sent a needle piercing through her.
She couldn’t see the man’s face as he held on to his black top hat and his auburn greatcoat moved to obscure his body whilst he climbed the stairs and passed by her through the door, but his smell was familiar—leather, horse, sandalwood, vanilla, and expensive liquor.
As the man walked, Temperance noted he was limping ever so slightly, favoring one leg.
“Your Grace.” The butler bowed, took his top hat, then the greatcoat.
“I should go…” Temperance mumbled, thinking of a way she could squeeze past the man and out of the house.
But her eyes were drawn to the way his auburn coat with long tails hugged his back and his broad shoulders. His waist was proportionately trim, his hips narrow in comparison to the size of his frame, his riding breeches stretched taut over his powerful thighs…
He turned and a shock hit Temperance. He was stunning .
As striking as Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in Britain that Papa had once taken her to during their travels around the country.
His honey-blond locks were windswept, disheveled from riding, and a little wet with the melting snow.
He was tall and strikingly handsome with those perfect angles of his jaw, straight lines of his high cheekbones, dark brown eyes that had glistened with hunger as he stared at her, trapped under that very horse…
Her intuition was correct. It was the man who had almost killed her one week ago.
His eyes narrowed at her with penetrating interest that sent a jolt of warm awareness through her. “May I help you, Miss?”
He didn’t recognize her…did he? Your Grace , the butler had said…
Oh, no. Was this the Duke of Eccess, the man who had advertised?
Temperance’s breath evaporated from her lungs, heat burning her cheeks. She was face-to-face with the man who had given her not only her first kiss…but who had also called her a harlot…and had compromised her!
She had slapped a duke!
She’d been thinking about that kiss for the past week, despite her best efforts.
It had kept her warm in the cold of the almshouse.
The idea of working for him, being in the same house, felt like standing on a shifting platform as the floor careened under her.
Nerves rang in her body, making her feel like she was full of singing, vibrating violin strings.
What was she thinking? Being a governess in this man’s home would be the worst idea. She needed to turn away and leave. Now!
But Temperance couldn’t move. He pulled her in as he held her in his inquisitive gaze…
then the puzzlement in his dark eyes changed and he blinked.
The Duke of Eccess scowled, his fists clenched and his shoulders taut.
His breathing accelerated, his chest rising and falling.
He must have recognized her…and he must be furious with her.
Excellent. He wouldn’t want to hire her anyway, not after she’d insulted him, let him kiss her, then slapped him.
Neither of them would want this.
“This is a woman calling about the governess advert,” said the butler.
“We have a governess, Jacobs,” said the duke.
The butler shook his head. “I’m afraid Miss Hammond just walked out.”
The duke let out a long, exasperated sigh, his jaw moving in suppressed anger. As a loud sound of porcelain shattering and a feminine gasp of surprise and indignation came from the salon, his lower jaw protruded and moved from side to side in quiet annoyance.
“I was just leaving,” Temperance said and turned away.