Translator: Nox

Chapter 14

The words had escaped Windsor’s lips before he could catch them, and he inwardly cursed his own lack of restraint. It was a rare lapse in composure—an uncharacteristic slip of the tongue born of haste.

Jacqueline’s eyes widened in brief surprise before a subtle, knowing smile played across her features.

“Lord Preston likely wished to shield his unfamiliarity with high-society customs,” she said softly. “He already endures the cold scrutiny that follows any man entering the aristocracy so late in life. To invite more gossip would be unwise, and he certainly wouldn’t want the Preston name dragged through the mud. It is only natural he kept this to himself. I understand perfectly.”

She met his gaze directly, her expression softening with a look of genuine empathy, as if she were offering him silent consolation for his private burden.

Windsor didn’t offer a verbal reply. He simply gave a curt nod, signaling for her to proceed.

“Admitting to a lack of knowledge is a daunting task,” Jacqueline continued. “A clumsy attempt at imitation would only draw the same ridicule nobles heap upon common merchants. Fortunately, I am intimately acquainted with the intricacies of etiquette. Even more fortunately, I have been brought into the Preston household as a governess. Truly, there is no one better positioned to assist you.”

She lowered her lashes slightly, her smile growing more pronounced.

“Furthermore, though it may be difficult to credit, I am the soul of discretion. I am quite prepared to take such secrets to my grave.”

Windsor remained silent. He couldn’t bring himself to simply reach out and accept her help. The moment he confessed his ignorance, the dignity of the Preston lineage would be compromised. Even now, his instincts screamed for caution and deliberation.

Yet, he found he couldn’t simply walk away and leave her there.

His thoughts drifted to the King. To this point, Windsor had successfully avoided a royal audience by claiming his presence was required on his estates. But the King’s patience had finally worn thin; preparations were already underway for a legal battle to strip Windsor of Benjamin’s custody.

Windsor was well aware of the stakes, yet he couldn’t rush to court. If the King discovered his lack of refinement, it would provide the perfect ammunition in a custody hearing. The monarch would argue that a man of such humble origins could offer Benjamin nothing but a poor influence—perhaps even cause the boy harm.

There was a stinging grain of truth in that possibility, which was exactly why Windsor was so obsessed with Benjamin’s upbringing.

Sensing his hesitation, Jacqueline leaned in. Her voice dropped to a sweet, conspiratorial whisper, the same tone she used when coaxing the young boy.

“Let me teach you, Lord Preston. I can show you the ways of the nobility in absolute secrecy.”

“You mean those tedious, convoluted rituals?” he countered, his eyes lifting to test her resolve.

His sharp retort didn’t faze her; she was far too sharp to be intimidated by his bluster.

“You went to great lengths to hide this from the servants—even from Benjamin. Is that not why you insist on dining in solitude? It is an irony of our world that these rigid rules often provide the most freedom. How much longer can you avoid the ballroom or decline invitations with convenient illnesses? Is it not time you truly stepped into your role as the Marquess of Preston?”

Her logic was airtight. Windsor had already begun to feel the limitations of his position; it felt as though he had spent months staring at an impenetrable stone wall.

Now, a door had appeared. He only had to turn the handle.

However, life had taught him from a young age that nothing was ever truly free.

“And what does Miss Somerset stand to gain from this arrangement?” he asked bluntly. He didn’t believe for a second that this was an act of charity; she clearly wanted a price for her silence and her service.

Given that the Somerset earldom had collapsed, he assumed she was after a significant sum of money.

He watched her with an indifferent, searching gaze. For a moment, Jacqueline looked uncomfortable, as if he had seen right through her. She shifted her head slightly, avoiding his eyes.

A dry, cynical chuckle escaped him. In that moment, he felt a flicker of genuine disappointment.

He wondered why he felt that way. What had he expected? Every aristocrat he had ever encountered was a hypocrite. The officers he’d served with in the war spoke of patriotism while hiding in the rear; the socialites laughed with him while mocking him behind his back. She was cut from the same cloth.

“Go on,” he urged. “Speak your piece.”

“Very well…”

Jacqueline hesitated, then lifted her chin with newfound resolve. She met his stare with a steady, determined look.

“I ask only that you respect my methods of instruction.”

Windsor was momentarily speechless. The request was so far removed from what he anticipated that he felt a genuine sense of bewilderment. His brow furrowed in confusion. He couldn’t begin to guess what was going on in her head—a feeling that was becoming uncomfortably common.

“You want me to respect your teaching principles?” he repeated, his voice laced with disbelief.

Jacqueline nodded firmly.

“It is a fair trade, Lord Preston. Though my house has fallen, I was born a countess. I was educated at the Bristol Girls’ Boarding School and graduated with honors. I can promise you that I will be an exceptional governess—not just for your nephew, but for you as well.”

She spoke with a calm, ringing confidence. Windsor rested his hand on the table, his index finger tapping a rhythmic, thoughtful beat.

Jacqueline offered a small smile, though her voice remained stern.

“Tapping the table is considered poor form, Lord Preston. It is a breach of decorum. And please, keep your elbows tucked in.”

He went still.

His finger hovered in the air. Slowly, he turned his gaze toward her. Jacqueline was beaming, looking entirely satisfied with her proposal.

“I can transform you into a gentleman so beyond reproach that not a soul in society will dare whisper against you. A perfect Marquess.”

Her voice was persuasive, carrying that same enticing quality she had used when showing Benjamin the cicada.

“Why bother with all this?” Windsor asked. He was far more cynical than the child. He wasn’t ready to trust her; she could be looking for a weakness to exploit, or perhaps she was a spy for the King.

“My reason?” Jacqueline echoed softly. She looked down, a faint, melancholy smile touching her lips. The shift in her mood was palpable. “Because I want to see Benjamin truly smile.”

“I have never seen that boy give a genuine smile,” Windsor remarked.

He watched her closely, searching for any sign of a hidden agenda. Jacqueline raised her head, meeting his eyes with a look of absolute sincerity. She genuinely cared for the boy. She wanted him to be happy, perhaps because she realized how heavy the burden of his future title would be.

Windsor knew that weight better than anyone. If she could offer the boy even a moment of peace…

“Fine, Miss Somerset. We have an agreement.”

He gave a slow nod. He still didn’t fully understand her, but he was in a corner and her offer was too vital to ignore. If she proved to be a liability, he would deal with her then.

Unaware of the dark turn his thoughts had taken, Jacqueline smiled brightly.

“A wise decision, Lord Preston. William!”

At her call, the door opened and the butler stepped inside, standing as straight as a soldier.

“Please serve dinner,” she instructed. “The Marquess must be famished. I’m afraid I’ve already delayed his meal by twenty-three minutes.”

“…As you wish, Miss Somerset,” William replied.

He glanced between the two of them with a hint of curiosity before bowing and retreating. Almost immediately, the staff began bringing in a succession of dishes.

Jacqueline looked at the butler again, her voice taking on a more commanding edge.

“You may leave us for now, William.”

“Yes, Miss.”

The butler was clearly confused as to why the governess was joining his master for dinner, but he knew better than to ask. He simply obeyed and closed the door behind him.

Once they were alone, Jacqueline settled her hands in her lap and spoke softly.

“Please, begin your meal, Lord Preston.”

Windsor narrowed his eyes, still trying to read her. Jacqueline maintained an expression of wide-eyed innocence, as if she were merely there to observe.

“I need to assess your current habits so I can provide the proper corrections. I intend to prove my worth through results.”

With a sigh of resignation, Windsor reached for his napkin.

“A bit more grace, if you please,” Jacqueline corrected immediately. “That was rather aggressive—like you were hoisting a flag on a conquered ship. Fold it in half and lay it across your lap. Much better.”

“I am aware of how to use a napkin,” Windsor muttered.

Jacqueline bit back a grin, maintaining her professional air.

“Serving the entire meal at once is the Lencia style. Currently, the Northean style—serving courses one at a time—is the height of fashion. We shall practice that next. Also, when you put down your knife, ensure the blade is turned inward.”

“And why is that necessary?” Windsor asked, flipping the knife over with an indifferent flick of his wrist.

“Well…” Jacqueline paused, her green eyes darting around. The truth was, she didn’t actually know the origin of the rule. She simply adopted a stern, schoolmarmish expression to cover her ignorance. “Try not to let your spoon scrape the bottom of the bowl. If the soup is served in a double-handled bowl, it is perfectly acceptable to drink directly from it.”

“So scraping the bowl is a sin, but gulping from it like a tankard is fine? What is the logic in that?”

“Well…” Again, her eyes shifted. She’d been taught the rules, not the reasons. He is far too inquisitive for his own good, she thought.

She quickly pivoted to a new topic. “Oh, Lord Preston, you must never flip the fish over.”

He stopped mid-motion.

Under her sharp correction, his hands froze. He looked up at her, a flash of irritation sparking in his stormy gray eyes. Jacqueline, however, didn’t blink.