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

bills sent here.”
    â€œYou will wish to hear how she is progressing in her studies.” It was not a question, and he felt suddenly defensive. Because, of course, he hadn’t thought about tracking her progress at all; if he were honest, he’d have to admit he hadn’t thought about what would happen at all, beyond wanting to keep her there for the moment. To keep her safe, until he decided what was to be done with her.
    And with him.
    But keeping the child safe wasn’t the same as keeping her well, a voice reminded him. His parents had kept him safe, but not well.
    The governess was still gazing steadily at his face, and he realized she was waiting for a reply. Not that she had asked a question.
    â€œA weekly report will be adequate.”
    â€œI will report to you, and not to your wife?” That was a question, one thankfully he could answer.
    â€œI am not married.”
    â€œOh.”
    Was he imagining it, or did her expression relax a fraction? Did she think he would— No, of course not. Dukes did not marry governesses, and vice versa. Definitely not this governess and this duke.
    Not that he wouldn’t mind pretending they were married. For two minutes, at least.
    But she was not looking at him in any kind of pretend married way at all, or even in the way he’d grown used to—as though he was a rare breed, or some sort of fascinating bizarre species. He understood those looks. There weren’t very many dukes, after all, and many fewer of them weren’t gray-haired and married and gouty.
    She was just . . . looking . It was refreshing, but also disconcerting. He felt as though he should be explaining how a man such as he had been able to remain a bachelor. He wanted to tell her how it felt to see Rose arrive in his house, how he saw himself in her face. How he knew how it felt not to be wanted.
    But she was his newest employee, not someone he needed to confide in, or impress, or do anything except pay and expect to do her job.
    He took refuge in his most obnoxious tone of voice. “Since you neglected to bring references, Miss Lily, perhaps you could instead tell me of your last position.”
    Had her expression been relaxed before? Now it was all tightened up again, as though someone were winding her face up like a clock, to spring it into action.
    He acknowledged that he could be oblivious to other people, but there was no mistaking the tension in her face. In her entire body, in fact; her hands were coiled around each other and her posture made it appear as though she were going to leap out of the chair.
    But she didn’t do anything, just took a deep breath and met his gaze. “I was employed by a vicar’s family in Littlestone. The Turnstones.” The expression in her eyes got distant, as though she were recalling something. “It is a small village, but the vicar’s wife wished her daughters to be able to make their way comfortably in London. I believe they are distantly related to a baron, they had hopes of arriving in town for the Season.” She nodded, as though for emphasis.
    And now what did he do with that information? He’d never actually hired a servant before, he’d left that up to whomever had taken care of it before he inherited. But this couldn’t be entrusted to anyone but him.
    â€œHm.” That seemed like an appropriate reply.
    â€œI can obtain my physical references on my afternoon off.”
    As though they both knew when that was. Was it something that was understood? How had he gone this long—even being as feckless as he was—without knowing when servants had their free afternoons?
    â€œYes, of course.” He was feeling more and more out of his depth in dealing with this woman. Perhaps there was a good reason he’d left the hiring to other people.
    â€œWhen would you prefer me to take my afternoon?” she asked after a moment.
    Aha! So it was not understood! He felt much