Page 21 of The Duke’s Suspicion

“I never had a governess.” That explains a great deal. “My papa was my only teacher.”

“A man is hardly capable of offering an appropriately feminine education.” Censure rang in her voice. He half expected the woman to retract whatever favor she had earlier granted.

“Indeed not,” Erica agreed, apparently unperturbed.

“Lady Viviane Laurens is an accomplished young woman.” Miss Chatham stressed certain words to offer a clear rebuke of Erica’s lopsided instruction. “I did have some hope she would share her father’s fondness for history,” the governess added after a moment. “But she refuses to settle her mind to it.”

Tristan heard the sound of a something being slid across a table. Evidently a book. “Thucydides,” said Erica in a voice of mild surprise. “But not in Greek?”

“No. I generally have found that young ladies’ minds are not well suited to the study of ancient languages.” Tristan forced another calming breath into his lungs. His sister was not just any young lady. “I have limited my instruction to the modern tongues. French, of course, though one does have reservations about it at the present hour. And a smattering of German.”

“I myself never enjoyed reading history. In any language.” A rustle of fabric followed those words. He pictured Erica pacing the schoolroom and wondered, against his better judgment, what she wore today. “Why, there are hardly any women in it. And all those invented speeches.” He could almost hear her eyes roll. “Stirring, yes. But did no one ever wonder what the general’s wife, left at home with a half-dozen children and a household to manage, might have said in his place?”

Tristan bit back a smile, but the governess clearly lacked such power of imagination. “I—I beg your pardon?”

The book thumped onto the table once more. “Perhaps studying war distresses Lady Viviane. Perhaps it turns her thoughts to current events. Her brother is, after all, a soldier.”

Erica’s words, wiser than he wished, settled over him, as chilling as yesterday’s rain. Of course his poor sister did not want to read of battles and generals. The great military conflicts of history would easily turn her mind to the dangers he faced in the present.

“Children cannot be educated according to the dictates of sentiment, Miss Burke.”

Tristan breathed deep one last time, but the influx of air fanned rather than doused the fury that was smoldering in his chest. One hand lifted to rap on the doorframe to announce his presence. He meant to begin with, “Miss Chatham, your services are no longer required…” and go on from there.

“Tris?”

Vivi’s quiet voice behind him almost made him stumble. He dropped his arm and tugged his coat into place, suddenly wishing he had opted to don his uniform. By custom, an officer caught in the act of espionage while wearing it was granted some leniency. A moment too late, he plastered a strained smile of greeting on his face.

Instead of throwing herself into his arms as she had the day before, she hesitated in the corridor’s shadows, head tilted, studying him. “Why are you standing out here?”

“I—”

In the schoolroom, he heard the scuffle of footsteps across the board floor as Miss Chatham came toward the door. “You’re late, Lady Viviane.” The governess stepped into the doorway and fixed her charge with a frown. Though her proportions were ample, nothing about her suggested softness, and her brown hair was liberally frosted with gray. “Oh, Your Grace. I did not see you there.”

Her creaky curtsy revealed Erica standing behind her, framed by the schoolroom’s large windows. Today’s gown might have been borrowed from the governess’ wardrobe rather than Guin’s, so plain was its style. But its claret color, combined with her red hair, rendered her a pillar of fiery warmth against the gray morning sky. At the moment, her narrow-eyed gaze was focused squarely on Miss Chatham’s back. Her obvious dislike of the governess put him in charity with her. So much so that he was in danger of forgetting last night’s vow entirely.

Until he saw a leather-bound volume lying on the table beside Thucydides’s account of the Peloponnesian War.

Erica’s journal.

He kept it in his focus a moment too long. She must have followed his gaze, for she turned quickly and gathered it into her arms. The movement restored him to his present purpose. “Miss Chatham, I regret to—”

“I am sorry I’m late.” Vivi brushed past them both, into the room. “I went all the way to the kitchens to remind Cook to send breakfast up here, now that my brother is home.” She sent a smile over her shoulder at him, as if nothing had happened that might alter their old habit. As if dukes regularly ate with children in the schoolroom.

Miss Chatham, however, looked scandalized by the notion. Fine lines deepened into grooves as she pursed her lips. “I’m quite sure, Lady Viviane, that His Grace would—”

“Be delighted?” His voice made the sturdy governess quaver like a sapling in a strong breeze. She made no attempt to meet his eye.

“Why else would he be here?” Vivi said brightly. He ought to have known better than to think Miss Chatham had quashed her spirit.

“Indeed, Your Grace.” Miss Chatham deflated a little and tried to pass it off as another curtsy. “I have a letter to my sister to finish in my room. With your permission.”

With a magnanimous dip of his head, he dismissed her. A more permanent dismissal could wait for a later hour.

Erica hurried after the governess. “I’ll just—”

“Oh, Miss Burke, won’t you join us for breakfast?” Vivi’s offer surprised each of them in turn, though for different reasons, he suspected. Almost to the threshold, Miss Chatham looked as if she had swallowed something bitter-tasting. Erica once more wore a hunted expression. And he…well, he found himself strangely hopeful she would nonetheless accept Vivi’s invitation.

Apparently assuming such a request could not be refused, the slighted governess stiffened her spine and strode from the schoolroom. After making a careful study of the wide-plank floorboards, Erica returned to the table. Vivi tangled his fingers with hers and dragged him to sit between them.