appeal.
“Your reputation precedes you, of course, Your Grace,” she said briskly, fighting to keep her wits about her when she couldn’t seem to pull in a full breath. “But it is not your reputation that concerns me. It is your ward’s education.”
“A clever dodge, Miss Andrews, but I’d prefer it if you answered the question.”
Eleanor reminded herself that this was not a situation that required her honesty. This man was not interested in her frank opinion of him. How could he be? Hugo was the Duke of Grovesmoor. And her employer. If he wanted to pretend that the stories about him were lies, it was only in Eleanor’s best interest to agree.
Because, as her sister reminded her almost every night, this was about the money. It was most certainly not about that odd weight in her chest that urged her to do the exact opposite of what she knew to be necessary. And smart.
She ignored that weight. She shoved it aside and pretended she couldn’t feel it. She made herself smile. Politely.
“Everyone knows the tabloids are filled with lies,” she murmured, hoping that placated him. “All smoke, no fire.”
Hugo shook his head as if he were disappointed in her. “I believe you are lying, Miss Andrews, and I am shocked onto my soul.” That curve in the corner of his mouth deepened. “And yes, I do have one. Clouded and murky though it may be.”
It was entirely too easy to drift off, staring at this man in all his dark, threatening beauty, as if he was an approaching storm and the worst that could happen to her was that she’d get a bit wet. But she had to stop thinking of him that way. She had to do something about the strange signals her body sent off that made her entirely too nervous. That tightness in her breasts. The knotted thing in her belly. And that odd, melting sensation lower still.
She had to remember what she was doing here. It was about the money and it was about Geraldine, and all these strange electrical moments were distractions, nothing more.
Because of course they couldn’t be anything more.
“I’ve given Geraldine a series of tests and have found she’s well above her year in most areas. Whatever the previous fourteen governesses might have lacked, they were clearly decent tutors. She’s very bright and quite advanced.”
“I’m delighted to hear it.” He did not sound delighted.
“I believe she will make you proud,” Eleanor said, and realized almost instantly that it was the wrong thing to say. Of course it was the wrong thing to say. The child was not his. Geraldine was his ward, not his daughter. It was entirely possible that the only proud day of his life would be the day she reached her majority and was no longer his responsibility.
And none of that was her business, as Mrs. Redding had suggested.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, before he could respond. Then, as if the apology needed explanation, she pushed on. “I always wanted to be a teacher when I was younger, but then I took a little bit of a detour.”
“Into a number of office positions in London,” he said, without consulting any notes. Meaning he just knew that. Eleanor told herself that wasn’t strange at all, and there was absolutely no reason that prickling feeling should intensify until she felt goose bumps on her arms.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “This governess position is new to me. Perhaps in my enthusiasm, I’ve overstepped.”
For a long moment, Hugo said nothing. But it wasn’t as if his silences were empty. On the contrary, everything felt thick. The air. That raw thing that kept expanding inside her chest, until once again, she didn’t think she could pull in a full breath. But the longer she stared at his mesmerizing face, and those unholy eyes of his, the less she cared.
“You do not treat me like a monster, Miss Andrews.” Hugo’s voice was a smooth lick against the quiet that surrounded them. “I find it disconcerting that you do not, when everyone else does. Why don’t you?”
Eleanor felt her lips part at that, and quickly snapped her mouth shut. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do. Women normally approach me in one of two ways. They either fling themselves at me, desperate for my touch and my attention. Or they cower, certain that a stray graze of my finger will ruin their reputations forever, and more importantly, leave them mere, shivering wrecks of their former selves thanks to my supposed evil powers—but not in any fun way. Yet you do neither.”
There was a note in his voice that she didn’t understand, but it seemed to wind its way through her like honey. Or something far more intoxicating.
“I apologize, Your Grace,” she managed to say. “I was unaware that a certain reaction was called for the part of the job. To you, I mean. Perhaps it’s silly of me, but I thought my relationship with Geraldine was the point.”
“No one takes this job for the child. One way or another, they always take it for me. The fact that you do not wish to admit this only makes you more curious. And I should not have to tell you that making yourself the focus of my attention...has consequences.”
Eleanor was clenching her hands together entirely too tightly, something she only noticed when they went numb. She forced herself to unlace her fingers and sensation came back in a rush. She ignored it when they began to sting.
“I would prefer not to be crass, Your Grace, but you give me no choice.”
“I am all ears, of course. I enjoy crassness very much. You must realize this.”
“I’m sure you’re a very nice man. Deep down,” she added at his snort. “But of course you must realize that the position’s salary is what’s attractive. While you have a certain charm, I suppose, that really isn’t why I came. I told you before. I was assured—repeatedly—that I would never see you.”
“I have a very large and extraordinarily healthy ego, Miss Andrews, and yet it withers before you. Most women would scramble up the Cliffs of Dover if they imagined they might catch a glimpse of me.”
“I suspect your ego is quite robust and will survive handily. And I am not most women.”
“You most certainly are not.”
Eleanor caught herself before she flung something back at him. There was no call to come over all caustic and acerbic, which seemed to be her happy place where the Duke was concerned. It wouldn’t help her in any way to actively antagonize him. Hugo might have been eyeing her in very much the same way a large, indolent house cat might an extremely foolish mouse. But that didn’t mean she should scamper out there of her own volition and show him her belly.
Think of the money, she told herself sternly. Think of Vivi.
She surged up and onto her feet at that. “It’s late, Your Grace.”
“It is not yet midnight.” He didn’t bother to glance at the watch on his wrist, which Eleanor could tell must have cost a fortune or two, since it looked like it belonged on the side of an old town hall in Prague. “It is scarcely ten.”
“Which is late for those of us who rise with small children in the morning.”
“There it is,” he said softly and, if she was not mistaken,
