The Duke's Guide to Correct Behavior Read Online Free PDF Page A

softened. It seemed, actually, that her whole expression softened. He’d have thought about that more, about how she seemed to glow from the inside, just with saying the girl’s name, but then he got distracted by—by her.
    She was absolutely stunning when she wasn’t looking as though she had just sucked on a lemon. And her figure really was lovely—shapely, but not excessive. As though there were secrets to discover underneath that drab gown, hidden curves and soft skin and unknown territory to explore.
    But he had no business exploring his child’s governess.
    â€œWhat about Rose? You need to tell me if there is a problem with the—with my daughter.” As he spoke, he felt his chest tighten. My daughter . He’d only just met his child, had spent barely an hour with her, but he already knew how it felt not to be wanted, and no matter what, he didn’t want that for her.
    Miss Lily shook her head, her lips curling into a slight smile. “No, there is no problem with her, as you say. She is a lovely girl. I merely wished to discuss how you wished me to proceed.” A pause, then a more hesitant tone. “You said she has just arrived?”
    They were both still standing. If they were to engage in any kind of lengthy conversation, he’d be damned if he’d conduct it standing up. With a servant, no less.
    Although from what he knew about them, governesses inhabited an odd purgatory-like existence within a household—not lowly enough to be comfortable among the other servants, but certainly not part of the family.
    Ah. No wonder Thompson had been even more rigid than usual. He needed to ensure the new governess knew her place. Thompson was likely
irked that his employer didn’t seem to know—or even care about—his place. Both in terms of his physical living quarters and his position.
    He really would have to get around to redecorating one of these days.
    â€œDo sit down,” he said, gesturing to one of the chairs. He grabbed one that had fallen sideways and righted it, then straddled it backward. He’d found that was the most comfortable way to sit, the chairs being as uncomfortable as they were ugly.
    The governess had no such option regarding the way she sat, of course, and lowered herself into the chair he’d indicated, smoothing her skirts and clasping her hands in her lap. At last, when it seemed she was settled to her liking, she looked up at him.
    The directness with which she regarded him felt like she knew things about him, knew things he didn’t even know. It felt prickly, like wearing a rough shirt, or attending church when one had no right to be there.
    He hadn’t done either thing in years, but he still recalled how it felt.
    There was a long silence, until at last he realized it was his place to speak. In purgatory or not, no servant would begin a conversation when not specifically invited to. That road would lead straight to hell. Or unemployment.
    â€œHave you had a chance to review what might be needed for her?” He made his tone as confident as he could, even though he was entirely unaccustomed to not knowing the answers. Or even to asking questions. This event, this arrival of a child
who was shorter than the top of the execrable escritoire, was going to irrevocably change him. For better or for worse remained to be seen.
    â€œI assume, Your Grace, that since this is the first child you’ve had living here—it is, correct?” she asked, the slight promise of a frown flitting across her face, as though she worried he was in the habit of collecting stray children. “I assume that we will need everything. Will you need an itemized list?” She tilted her head and her eyes narrowed in thought. “There will be papers, and pens, and chalk, and—”
    â€œFine, fine,” Marcus said, interrupting. “Whatever you deem necessary. I don’t need to hear the details. Just have the