She inhaled deeply, filled with a sense of optimism. There was nothing bleak about that house, at least not in her opinion. For her, it was a place of hope. Eagerly, she took up the broom and started swaying it around, dancing as she went and humming a familiar tune. She tried not to think about the duke, but that was impossible.
The man she had met seemed so different from the fearful and furious figure she had heard about in the village. The stories painted him as a recluse, scarred and bitter, someone who lashed out at those who dared to come near his property and disturb him in any way.
Her brother and his friends told her the story of how he threw a rock at them in an effort to scare them away, but she couldn’t believe that was true. The duke she had encountered was a quiet man, thoughtful and dreadfully haunted by his own past. Yes, he was many things, but he was not the monster of local legend.
She wiped the dust from a nearby table, her mind wrestling with the contradictions. How could the man who had extended his trust to her and shown her unexpected kindness be the same man who didn’t refrain from harming children? Perhaps the boys had made a mistake. The manor was large, and it was possible someone else had been responsible for that. Perhaps, Mr. Hancock?
At that moment, the first drops of rain splattered against the windows. The wind howled louder than before, rustling the trees and sending leaves swirling through the air. She paused by the window, watching the tempest form, her thoughts in the same state.
Suddenly, a cry of pain exploded from the adjacent room, and she immediately recognized the duke’s voice. Was it possible that he had been close by all that time? She hesitated at first, not certain whether she should intrude, but concern quickly overcame her hesitation. She rushed over to the source of the sound, her heart pounding.
Entering the nearby room, she found the duke leaning against a bookshelf, looking frustrated. His face was tense, and his eyes held a mixture of anger and weariness.
“Your Grace?” she asked softly, lingering in the doorway. “Are you all right?”
He looked up, surprised to see her there. His stern demeanor softened, and he cleared his throat as he replied. “I’m fine, Rose. Don’t worry about it.”
She grimaced with even more concern. “Are you… sure you don’t need any help?”
“Yes,” he nodded, trying to move slowly, but it was obvious that an onslaught of pain was preventing him from doing so. “I was stupidly trying to move a bookshelf and I hurt my back in the process.”
“Oh, let me call Mr. Hancock and he can—”
“No, no,” he shook his head, “this is nothing new, I assure you. It happens all the time. It is the result of a war injury.”
“Why don’t you let me take a look?” she asked, her instincts as a healer taking over without her thinking of the impression such a suggestion would make.
“No, no, no,” he shook his head even more fervently that time, slightly blushing and turning away from her as he spoke.
It was then that she realized how that must have sounded. For her to take a look at his back, he would need to disrobe. And disrobing meant… something that made her blush fervently, so she thanked heavens that he was looking away. She quickly tried to compose herself, offering an innocent explanation.
“My aunt often helps people who have gotten hurt in accidents,” she said. “I know that it is not the same, but perhaps there is something that could be done.”
He turned to face her again, a look of silent gratitude in his deep, unfathomable eyes. “I appreciate your concern, but the war physicians have already told me that there is nothing more to be done. It is a lifelong condition I will have to live with.”
She could immediately sense that he didn’t want to discuss the topic any further. Besides, he was now slowly straightening his back, pressing his palm against it. She wanted to assure him that her aunt would have some remedy for his pain, but she didn’t want to pry. She had already caught him at an inopportune moment, so she thought that it would be best to simply change the topic.
“I just wanted to thank you again,” she said, smiling. “For the opportunity to work here.”
“I am happy I could help,” he smiled back.
She hesitated to ask, but she couldn’t help it. “Have you perhaps had the chance to think about my brother working here as well?”
Rose couldn’t help but think that her brother was spending too much time with his friends, constantly getting into trouble. Focusing on work would hopefully keep him out of it, as well as provide their family with some much needed additional funds. However, she didn’t say any of this aloud.
“Actually, I have,” he nodded. She listened with eagerness to what he was about to say. “I think there are some odd jobs he could help out with. Mr. Hancock will give you more details.”
“Really?” Rose gasped, incredulous. “I… I don’t know how to thank you, Your Grace.”
“You are welcome,” he said.
At that moment, thunder exploded somewhere in the distance, making them both turn towards the window nervously. Rain was drumming against the window pane much louder than before. She only realized that now.
“I’d best finish my work and head back home,” she said, still gazing out the window.
“It looks like it’s going to be a dreadful storm,” he pointed out. “I don’t think you should risk going anywhere in this weather.”
“I’ll be fine, Your Grace,” she smiled, but he refused to agree.
