What the Duke Wants(3)

It was well known among the ton and those who gossiped about them, that the Duke of Clairmont was not the type of man to cross. Although deliciously handsome —at least that’s what the rumor said— he had a reputation that boasted his arrogant nature and intolerance for women beyond their company in his bedroom —or their bedroom, for that matter. Carlotta’s cheeks heated with a blush at simply thinking those words. True, he could have his pick of any of the season’s Incomparables, but he wasn’t marriage minded. At least not yet. His hair was as dark as sin with eyes that were the color of a summer sky. His tall and powerful frame exuded power and dominance, shrinking down all other men in the room. Of course, one could not always believe the gossip.

Especially when it said he had kept no fewer than a dozen mistresses at one time. Certainly, that was exaggerated. Nevertheless, the stories about the handsome duke abounded and grew to mammoth proportions. Which was why Carlotta had to summon all her courage to walk up the steps to his home.

The one question that remained quite a mystery was why the duke needed a governess at all. It was well known he was a confirmed bachelor. Could he have a brood of children born on the wrong side of the blanket? Carlotta highly doubted it. After all, based on the gossip, he didn’t seem like the doting father type. No, with his reputation, he’d toss the poor woman unfortunate enough to have gotten pregnant, into the streets. Yes, his soul was a black as his hair. Of course, having never seen the duke in person, Carlotta could only imagine how dark his hair really was.

She walked to the door and knocked, willing her racing heartbeat to slow its galloping pulse.

“Yes?” an aged butler inquired.

“Miss Carlotta Standhope. I’m here to interview for the governess position. I’m here on Mr. Burrows’ recommendation,” she spoke her practiced words.

“Yes. Wait a moment.” The butler left her on the doorstep but returned less than a minute later.

“Mrs. Pott will be conducting your interview in the parlor. If you’ll follow me.”

Carlotta tried not to appear too curious as she studied the bachelor lodgings of one of the most notorious rakes of the ton. Dark woods covered the walls and rich rugs softened the floors. It was pristine and clean yet dark and brooding all at once. As she glanced about, she decided it had to be from the lack of light. For it being daylight outside, it was quite dark inside.

The butler opened a door that was already slightly ajar and waited for Carlotta to enter. As she did, a plump woman no younger than sixty years greeted her. She was cheery, her cheeks rosy and her smile warm. Carlotta felt a bit more at ease.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Standhope. You come on excellent recommendation,” the woman greeted warmly.

“Thank you.”

“Where are my manners? Forgive me, darling. I’m Mrs. Pott, his grace’s housekeeper. You’ll have to excuse me. I’m not accustomed to interviewing governesses. Please, come and sit. Let’s have us a chat, shall we?” She gestured to a chair opposite her and Carlotta sat.

“Murray? Would you please have tea brought up?”

The butler nodded and disappeared.

“Now then, why don’t we begin with you telling a bit about yourself, Miss Standhope.”

“I’m nineteen this year, Mrs. Pott, and well versed in Latin, French as well as classic literature, mathematics and some of the more popular sciences. I studied under my own tutor until recent circumstances required me to seek my own employment.” Carlotta held her breath, hoping the words she’d rehearsed were neither too rushed nor divulged too much information on her current straits.

“I see. You’re quite the educated woman it seems.” Mrs. Pott nodded.


“Thank you.”

“Now then, have you experience in how to conduct ones-self in social situations? The duke has become the guardian of three young women, all in need of guidance not only in their formal education but also in other social graces.”

“Yes, I’m able to guide them in the various social situations they’ll likely encounter being associated with his grace,” Carlotta responded confidently.

“Lovely. His grace plans on moving the girls to his country estate in Bath. Do you have any connections that would prohibit your moving from London?”

“No.” Yet her heart pinched. Bath was awfully close to Garden Gate. What miserable torture to be so near one’s home yet so completely away at the same time!

“Delightful. Then, Miss Standhope, I’m extending the offer of employment to you, should you wish to accept. You seem very well suited for the position and with such a glowing recommendation, I’d be daft to not welcome you to his grace’s staff.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Pott. I humbly accept.” Carlotta barely resisted the urge to let out a huge sigh of relief. That had certainly been much easier than she had anticipated.

“Now then, that’s settled. We’ll have us a spot of tea and then I’ll take you to meet your charges. They are currently staying here, but will be traveling shortly. I’m assuming you’ll need to quit your current lodgings as well?”

“Yes, it shan’t take long.”

“No need to worry. I’ll have Murray task someone with fetching your belongings and ensuring your account is settled.”

“Oh, there’s not need, I can—”