Octavia was not a typically timid person. Having lived the life that she had, the last few years especially, confidence and self-assurance were weapons that she used to defend herself against the harsh realities of a world that was constantly at her throat. She did not scare easily. She did not cower. And more often than not, she found that strong words and stubbornness were the best ways to get what she wanted.
But as she stood across the room, as she felt the Duke watching her, all her built-up confidence and bravery were like a candle in the darkest of rooms. It fought against the dark, it rallied as hard as it could, but it was a pitiful thing…
“I…” She swallowed. “I should explain.”
“Explain?”
“What happened just now,” she started, her voice cracking. “That was an error on my part. I… I thought you were… I did not realize who you were.”
“I would hope not,” he said simply.
“I thought you were robbing the place.” She laughed awkwardly, but it died before reaching the Duke. “If I had known who you were, I would have never…”
“Never what?”
“Did as I had done.”
“Which was?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. She had thought that he was testing her; now she realized that he was teasing her! No doubt he figured that she would recuse herself, and all he had to do was wait for her to break.
If that is what he thinks, then he does not know me half so well…
“Might we start again?” she offered. “While our initial introduction was not ideal, if you ask Miss Spencer, she will tell you how right I am for the role of governess. I pray you do not allow a simple misunderstanding to incorrectly color your opinion of me.”
“Our initial introduction?” His expression remained passive. “But that was not our initial introduction, was it?”
Her face paled.
“I trust Miss Spencer,” he continued simply. “Not once have I had a reason not to do so, and not once have I regretted it. However, what she knows of you… What she thinks that she knows tells less than half of the story.”
“I –”
“You wish to be my governess,” he spoke over her. He did not raise his voice, but there was no need. He was so in command of this room, of his world, that he was like a battering ramsmashing into a gate made of reeds. “You wish to help raise and educate my son. Your education, and indeed your qualifications, are not what concern me. Perhaps they would be, if my situation were not as desperate as it is. Alas, beggars cannot be choosers.”
“I did not lie about my qualifications,” she hurried. “I am more than capable of being a governess to your son.”
“However, I am also not one to hand my son and his future over to the hands of a woman whom I do not know.” His voice hardened. “And certainly not one I do not trust. So, tell me, Miss Finch, why should I trust you? Why should I trust a woman who just last evening was being chased through the street by a group of thugs?”
“Perhaps…” She swallowed. “Perhaps they simply saw me walking alone and –”
“I will give you one more chance,” he cut her off. “One more chance for the truth. Again, I ask, who are you, and why should I trust you?”
He did not sound angry, and for that, Octavia was grateful. Rather, the way he spoke was simple, to the point, and without emotion. He sat behind his desk, he looked right at her, and he locked onto her with eyes that seemed to look right through her and into her soul.
Octavia had considered lying. On the walk to his office, she had wondered what lie she might tell so that she could explain what had happened last evening. If such a lie existed.
Already, she had convinced herself that she would not get this job, just as she had decided that to lie would be to waste her time. The Duke wanted the truth? Let him have it. Let him see who she really was… and then judge accordingly.
It is not as if I am not used to such things…
Octavia sighed and let her shoulders slump. “You wish for the truth? It is not so exciting, I assure you. The simple fact is, those men whom I ran from last night believe that I owe them money, and they have been hounding me now for years in a bid to retrieve it.”
“And do you owe them money?”
“No,” she snapped before she could stop herself. “The debt belongs to my late father. He passed away four years ago, but these loan sharks are rather incorrigible, and as far as they are concerned, the debt has passed onto me.” She folded her arms and looked right at him with a glare of her own.
“And your mother?” he pressed.