Chapter 19
“Your reflexes should be serviceable, given your military background. Let’s begin. Lead with your left foot. Step-slide-slide, step-slide… Oh!”
Jacqueline, who had been moving with practiced grace, suddenly winced. Right at the start of the measure, Windsor’s boot had collided sharply with her shin.
How was it even possible to kick someone’s shin when one was meant to be merely stepping?
She stared at him, her eyes wide with bewilderment. Windsor’s brow knit in a faint show of frustration. Noting her stunned expression, he murmured under his breath,
“Pray forgive me.”
“…It’s quite alright. This is your first attempt, after all. Shall we try once more?”
Jacqueline offered a small, encouraging smile. She prided herself on being a patient instructor; she wasn’t about to abandon a pupil over a single clumsy mishap.
“Try to relax. Step-slide-slide, step-slide… Ugh!”
This time, Windsor’s momentum sent him crashing into her shoulder. Jacqueline’s torso lurched backward, but Windsor was quick to react, catching her by the waist and pulling her firmly against his chest to steady her.
Jacqueline righted herself, smoothing her dress. Forcing a polite smile, she looked up at him.
Meeting her silent, searching gaze, Windsor whispered in a low tone,
“My sincerest apologies once again, Miss Somerset.”
“Hoo… Very well.”
Jacqueline took a stabilizing breath. Every student possessed hidden potential, she reminded herself, and it was a teacher’s sacred duty to nurture it.
Steeling her resolve with a sense of professional mission, she brightened her expression.
“You are far too rigid, Lord Preston. You must allow your movements to flow. Start with the left again. That’s it. Step-slide-slide, step… Gah!”
Windsor’s elbow caught her square in the temple. This time, she didn’t even cry out—the impact was so sharp the pain momentarily robbed her of her voice.
Windsor looked uncharacteristically flustered.
“Truly, sir—how does one manage to strike a partner with their elbow during a waltz? Do you mistake me for a marauding pirate rather than a lady? We are meant to be dancing, Lord Preston, not engaging in hand-to-hand combat.”
“I am… genuinely sorry.”
“…I see.”
Jacqueline pulled her hand from his.
Windsor watched his now-empty palm. Jacqueline, who had accepted his lead so readily moments ago, had withdrawn without a second thought.
He slowly curled his fingers into a fist, dropped his arm, and clasped his hands behind his back, watching her.
She was wearing a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Even Windsor, who often missed social subtleties, could see she was incensed.
“It appears I was overly ambitious in hoping to dance with you at the upcoming ball.”
Finally, she threw up her hands in a gesture of defeat.
“Did I not tell you from the beginning? There truly is no necessity for you to master this.”
“We simply require more practice, Lord Preston. Do not lose heart so quickly. If we miss this ball, there is always the next.”
Jacqueline paused, gathering her skirts slightly as she dropped into a crisp curtsy.
“We shall conclude for today. It is time for Benjamin’s afternoon lessons. If you will excuse me.”
Without a backward glance, she marched out of the study. It was only once the door had clicked shut behind her that she allowed herself to release a heavy, pent-up sigh.
She looked down at her hand. It felt feverish and was trembling ever so slightly.
A sudden, sharp thirst hit her—a dryness that no tea could alleviate. Pressing her palms to her flushed cheeks, she forced herself to keep walking.
Windsor remained still, listening to the rhythm of her retreat. He only turned away once the sound of her footsteps had entirely vanished.
On the table sat a single, neglected cup of cold tea. The whirlwind of a woman who had been filling the room with her voice was gone.
“Like a storm,” he murmured.
Indeed, on reflection, she was very much like the wind.
To a man of the sea, the wind was a natural rival. A sudden gale could toss a ship and leave the crew in disarray.
Storms arrived without an invitation. Massive swells would rise as if to devour the hull, only to vanish into a calm sea just as abruptly.
Only those who had looked death in the face during such tempests could truly appreciate the quiet luxury of sunlight dancing on still water.
Predicting the whims of the wind was a fool’s errand. Resisting it was even more futile. All a small, fragile creature could do was bow before the overwhelming force of nature.
Jacqueline Somerset was just as erratic. Windsor returned to his desk, his eyes drifting back to the closed door.
It felt as though a stone had been tossed into his orderly life, sending ripples out in strange, unpredictable directions.
“What a pity.”
The words were meant for no one. He looked down at his desk and picked up a pen; the act of holding something familiar seemed to dull the strange sense of emptiness in his palm.
The sky was a brilliant blue, the air was soft, and the morning light felt like a gentle touch. As it always did, a new day began with the sun’s ascent.
“Colin.”
Jacqueline gave her old friend’s cheeks a playful squeeze. As she pressed, the plush bear’s face distorted, making his mouth pout comically.
A genuine smile broke across her face, her eyes crinkling into happy crescents.
“I’ve grown quite fond of the Preston estate. What do you think?”
As always, Colin remained stoically silent. He was her most trusted confidant, the keeper of all her secrets and her occasional complaints about the household.
It was Colin who had been her silent support through the rigors of the Bristol Girls’ Boarding School.
“You’ll adore Benjamin when you finally see him. He is the most charming child.”
Colin said nothing, merely staring back with his button eyes and his pouted lips.
“William, Madam Ritz, even Betty and Emma—they might seem a bit stiff, but they are good people at heart. And, well…”
Jacqueline found herself smiling without realizing it.
“Lord Preston is a dedicated student. Even if his dancing is a total catastrophe.”
A soft giggle escaped her.
Colin remained a silent judge. Her loyal friend pretended not to hear the gossip, maintaining his usual dignified quiet.
“But he is better than I anticipated.”
“Right. Let’s make this a wonderful day. I’m off, Colin. See you later.”
She checked her reflection one last time, gave Colin a final wave, and stepped out into the hall with purpose. Right at that moment—
A small figure darted out from the shadows. Jacqueline gasped, her heart leaping into her throat.
“Good morning, Miss Somerset.”
Recognizing the voice, she realized it was only Benjamin. She let out a breath, pressing a hand to her chest to still her racing pulse.
“Good morning, Benja—min?”
Her smile faltered. She blinked, her gaze traveling over Benjamin’s attire. Her lashes fluttered in surprise.
The boy was dressed in shorts and suspenders, topped off with a straw hat that fit his small head perfectly.
“Pardon?”
Jacqueline let out a confused sound. Benjamin looked up at her, his eyes shining with excitement.
“You promised we would go exploring the far garden this morning, so I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Oh…!”
The realization hit her. She stood frozen for a second before sinking down to her knees to be at his level.
For some reason, she felt a sudden lump in her throat. Meeting his gaze, she managed a soft, strained whisper.
“Have you been waiting outside my door this whole time?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“An hour.”
Good heavens.
Jacqueline glanced toward the window at the end of the hall. The grey dawn had long since given way to full morning light.
She hadn’t even had her breakfast yet. Seeing her stunned expression, Benjamin shifted his feet nervously.
“I… did I come too early? You said ‘in the morning,’ but I wasn’t sure when morning officially started…”
Jacqueline’s heart melted, and she gave him a tender smile.
“No, not at all. You must have been so bored. Why didn’t you just knock?”
“Uncle told me it’s rude to disturb a lady in her private morning hours.”
She arched an eyebrow in surprise, then nodded. That certainly sounded like Windsor. For all his bluntness, he possessed an unexpected streak of old-fashioned gallantry.
“Well then, since we have time before the meal, shall we begin our expedition?”
“Yes, Miss Somerset!”
Benjamin nodded with the gravity of a soldier on a secret mission. As the two of them began to march down the hall in synchronized steps, a door opened.
“Good morning, Miss Somerset.”
Windsor stepped out from the morning room, greeting her with his usual formality. Jacqueline immediately smoothed her skirts and offered an elegant nod.
“Good morning, Lord Preston.”
“Benjamin has been stationed outside your door for the better part of an hour.”
“So he told me. The poor child could have simply knocked.”
She looked down at the boy with genuine warmth. Benjamin fidgeted, clearly hoping the adults would stop talking so they could get on with their adventure.
“He was up at the crack of dawn, making enough of a fuss to rattle the entire domestic staff.”
Benjamin winced. Hearing his morning antics recounted to his teacher made him shift uncomfortably.
“Perhaps you should set a specific time for these outings in the future? I’m sure you’ll agree, Miss Somerset, that ambiguity serves only to tire everyone involved.”
“Are you always this meticulously precise, Lord Preston?”
There was a subtle edge to her voice, though Windsor seemed entirely oblivious to it. As Benjamin looked away, Windsor gave a calm, certain nod.
“I am.”
“Ah, of course. How very… efficient of you.”
Jacqueline decided she would have quite a bit to tell Colin later that evening. She turned and began to walk away.
“Come along, Benjamin.”
Windsor’s voice followed them.
“Benjamin.”
“Yes, I know—I am the future Marquess of Preston. I haven’t forgotten, and I don’t intend to,” Jacqueline called back over her shoulder without stopping. She pushed open the heavy front door and stepped out into the fresh air.
Windsor watched them go, one eyebrow slightly raised. He turned back toward his room, perplexed. He couldn’t fathom why she had gone from smiling to prickly in the span of a few seconds.
Then again, one didn’t predict the storm. One simply endured the wind until it decided to change direction.
