Page 8 of Duke of Eccess (Seven Dukes of Sin #4)
“She looks terribly proper,” whispered the smallest girl to her older sister.
The older girl nodded. “Awfully thin and pale.”
Their brother standing between them rubbed his hands. “She won’t last a week.”
Well, they might think that. They didn’t know it, but the four of them had to tolerate each other only until Christmas Day.
Standing next to the duke, Temperance watched the children, who were huddled together like three trees in a vast field in the middle of their spacious schoolroom.
A large table covered with a green tablecloth stood in the center with several chairs surrounding it, littered with papers, books, maps, inkwells, and pens. That would be where they’d study.
A sofa was against one wall, and a chaise longue stood next to the large windows with warm ochre drapes that offered much light onto the writing desk.
Three large bookcases were filled with books on geography, natural philosophy, collections of moral tales, French primers and Latin grammar, as well as works on mathematics and history.
Above the large fireplace several busts rested on the marble mantel, and watercolors leaned against the warm yellow wall.
A large globe of the world stood in a vaulted alcove; it would probably come up to Temperance’s waist.
The schoolroom for all three of them was something she as a child had had for just herself.
An ache of loneliness and grief for her papa shot through her as she could almost see herself studying in this room, reading about the first experiments on electricity that a German man called Bose, a Frenchman named du Fay, and an Englishman, Mr. Gray, had conducted in the last century.
She’d been particularly taken with Benjamin Franklin’s observations on lightning and electric fluid.
“Miss Fields, please meet your students. Margaret, James, and Sophie,” said the Duke of Eccess.
Temperance nodded to them with a polite smile. Even though she had to maintain an air of calm competence, inside, all her organs were aflutter with nervousness.
“Delighted to make your acquaintance,” she said. “I shall be pleased to explore new ideas together and broaden your knowledge.”
The children didn’t reply.
She looked at the duke. Surely, he knew how to handle them…he was their guardian. But as tall and large and imposing as he was, he seemed as uncomfortable as she felt.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, then leaned towards her, his dark gaze glimmering, his masculine scent washing over her.
“You have eight days to show me they can be better. On St. Nicholas Day, my best friends, their wives, and children are coming for a celebratory exchange of gifts. Don’t let these three devils drive you mad until then… Best of luck.”
The Duke of Eccess gave her a last warm, lingering gaze focused on her lips which had her melting, despite the inconvenient circumstances. As he turned and left, the children watched him with a longing in their eyes that made her heart ache.
Temperance remembered how he’d said they were the children of his deceased cousin. Orphans…like her.
A sharp sense of loneliness and betrayal sliced through her.
Her mother had died in childbirth, and her whole life she had craved a mother.
When Papa had married Lady Auster, Temperance had been but twelve, and she had accepted the beautiful, genteel lady with pure adoration and lightness in her heart.
To her relief, in the first few months, Lady Auster had become like the mama she’d never known.
Oh, Temperance had tried to be the perfect daughter.
She’d abandoned her pursuits of science, hidden her books on natural philosophy, stopped going to Papa’s library and the experimental chamber.
Instead, she had appeared a miniature lady of the ton—all good manners, attention to her coiffure and dress, forcing herself to endure conversations that revolved around gossip, counting other people’s fortunes, and the latest fashion.
All that gained her loving gazes and approval from her new mama.
Especially when Lady Auster had expressed how revolting and unnatural she found women pursuing male interests such as writing books, astronomy, and natural philosophy.
But one day Temperance could do it no longer.
She had returned to the laboratory after working on improvements to the Leyden jar.
She had found it fascinating that the jar could store electric fluid, even if for a short period, and wanted to find ways to store more electric fluid so that it could be given out for longer.
Lady Auster had found her in the laboratory…and had been horrified. Seeing the revulsion on the face of someone Temperance had loved had been heartbreaking. She had just found a mama but was now losing her.
In a desperate attempt to convince Lady Auster there was nothing to fear, Temperance had approached her with the charged Leyden jar, trying to convince her to take it in her hand, to take part in the experiment that had brought Temperance so much joy…
Instead of grasping the safety of the glass jar, her stepmother had touched the charged metal nail thrust through the cork. The sound of a loud crack had her flying back across the room. Against all Temperance’s wishes, Lady Auster was in pain and utterly terrified.
She’d called Temperance mad, saying she’d wanted to kill her as she never wanted her papa to marry her in the first place…
And that was how Temperance had been left without a mother once again.
Returning her mind to the schoolroom, she noted the loudest sound was the soft hiss of snowflakes storming against the windows. “Well,” she said brightly to the three children who watched her with frowns. “What do the three of you like to read?”
She winced internally. Books were her favorite subject. Probably not something with which she could interest rebellious, adventurous children.
The frowns on their faces deepened. Before she’d even started, she was losing them.
James walked to the desk where a candelabra with candles stood, picking it up along with a book. “We don’t like to read; we like to burn books!”
The lad held a leather-bound book dangerously close to the flames. The flame licked at the corner, and Temperance caught the distinct scent of singed paper.
Her instinct was to lunge for the book, but she forced herself to remain still.
Six governesses in one year . Clearly, strictness had failed over and over.
“Very well,” she said calmly, extending her hand. “If you prefer destruction to knowledge, that’s your choice. Though I wonder if you’ve considered something far more interesting than simply burning things.”
James hesitated, curiosity briefly overtaking defiance. But before he could do anything else, Margaret gasped. “My trigonometry book!”
She marched across the room, snatched the book from him, and hit him with it firmly on the head.
“Ouch!” he yelped, rubbing the place where the book had made contact.
While Margaret sat down at the desk and leaned over the notebook with an expression of concentration, Temperance said warmly, “Margaret, I’m impressed you care about trigonometry so much.”
The older girl shrugged. “It’s easy.”
Temperance felt a grin on her face. Trigonometry was easy? Had she not said the exact same thing to Papa about natural philosophy? “Perhaps you could show me your work and let me know what your other favorite things to do are?”
Margaret didn’t move a finger. “Forgive me, Miss Fields, but I don’t like to do things in vain.”
“In vain?”
“You’re the seventh governess this year. I just can’t bring myself to spend time on something that I’ll need to do all over again in one month.”
Temperance’s heart jolted for her. Constantly changing governesses surely didn’t help them learn how to behave. For the most part, she suspected, they were craving love and affection. Not another schedule to adhere to.
“Sophie, what do you like to do?” she asked the little one, who seemed the friendliest.
Sophie giggled. “Do you know what ‘ va au diable ’ means?”
Temperance’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. Goodness. “I do.”
“ Va au diable! ” the child cried and skipped a large circle around the room, shouting the lyrics to what appeared to be a very vulgar French song.
“Are you interested in French?” asked Temperance nonchalantly, trying her best to keep her visage steady. “Your knowledge of the French language is rather impressive. Even I don’t know those songs.”
Sophie stopped both singing and skipping for a moment, astonished, perhaps, at the compliment she had received instead of the scolding she had expected. “I—” The brightest smile illuminated her face. “But aren’t the words bad?”
Delight filled her voice on the word “bad.”
Temperance smiled. “Indeed they are. I appreciate you knowing the distinction between proper and improper. Perhaps it’s not something your other governesses taught you…
” and perhaps that was something her stepmother would call mad “…but I daresay a lady should be allowed to know these words because then you can choose when to use them and when not to. How about we play spies?”
Sophie gasped. “Spies?” The word sounded full of wonder.
In the meantime Margaret, who was leaning over complex trigonometry problems, raised her head.
“Would you like to play spies with us?” Temperance asked her as though she did not care one way or the other.
James at that moment opened his box again, and mice, having recaptured after their previous escapade, ran around the schoolroom floor.
Luckily Temperance wasn’t queasy about the little things.
As a true scientist, she was convinced all creatures small and large had their place on this earth.
She just let them run, which, as she saw on James’s face, was already a disappointment to him.
“You know we are leading in the war over Napoleon, don’t you?” said Margaret. “We will soon have no need of spies.”
Sophie visibly shrank. “I know that.”