John was angry.

He did not like what his sister had done in bringing this girl and her companion with her to the house. He did not like that Alice, even in her good will, had done such a thing without so much as asking him what he thought of it all. Instead, she had simply done it without so much as a thought as to what he would say and thus he had found his life completely altered by the presence of two unwanted guests.

And yet, there was something about Miss Smith that brought him nothing but confusion. The way she spoke to him, the calm, unhindered way she looked up at him and said everything that was going on in her heart, gave him pause. She was not like any other lady of his acquaintance, bar his sister, for they all fawned all over him. They had done ever since he had first gone to town for the Season, for he knew that the aim of most mothers of the ton was to marry their daughters to as good a title as they could. That had done nothing for him, of course, given that his marriage had already been arranged, and he found that he had grown rather weary of their constant attentions and flattery.

But this was not the case with Miss Smith. She was more direct than anyone he had met before, speaking to him in a clear, firm voice and not so much as flinching when he railed at her. The way she’d spoken to him had shown him her frustration and upset, which had brought a small stab of guilt to his heart. It meant very little to him, of course, for he was quite sure that he was in the right when it came to demanding peace in his own home, but he could not forget the way her eyes had filled with unshed tears as she’d gazed up at him, even though it had been two days since the event. He had remained in his own quarters since then, choosing not to dine with his sister and Miss Smith, telling himself that it was simply because he preferred his own company and not because he did not want to face Miss Smith again.

Closing his eyes, John leaned his head back against the overstuffed chair and tried to put Miss Smith from his mind but found that he could not. Even now, her words resounded with him and he could not rid them from himself. They lingered on, sending barbs of guilt and shame into his heart – feelings he had not experienced in some time.

“What am I to do about her?” he muttered to himself, passing one hand over his eyes. “She is infuriating.”

Infuriating and intriguing.

In his heart, John knew that Miss Smith had been correct to rail at him, even if he did not want to admit it. He had been overly harsh with Elouise, for the sound of her laughter had not irritated him as he’d suggested but had brought a spark of happiness back into his soul.

He did not want to feel any such emotion. He was much too used to the safety and security of sadness and loneliness that surrounded him with every passing day, for he knew he made no effort to battle them at all. Whilst he had much appreciated Alice’s company of late, he had found that there had been no increase in his joy. This was, most likely, because whilst he found her company pleasing, he also knew that she was worried about him. There was always something underlying whenever they were together, something nervous, something anxious, something that unsettled him even more than he already was. He was still trapped with the pain of losing his unborn child, still struggling with the loss of the happiness he had expected to have. And yet, in the midst of it all, he had refused to allow himself to feel the joy at having the laughter of a child echoing through the house. It was as if it was too much for him to bear and so he had turned towards anger, growing frustrated with Miss Smith and Elouise when he had very little need to do so.

“I shall have to apologize to her,” he muttered to himself, even though everything in him rebelled at the idea. “Even it is that I just say that I ought not to have been so gruff.”

Perhaps that would be enough to remove the lady from his thoughts. Muttering darkly to himself, John pushed the chair back and stood up, straightening his cravat carefully before quitting the room.

As he walked into the library, he was astonished to find his sister Alice reading aloud to Elouise. In fact, he was so taken with the scene that he was forced to stand completely still, feeling as though all of the air had been dragged from his lungs. Alice was reading aloud from a children’s book and Elouise was snuggled in next to her, her head resting on Alice’s shoulder. It was a picture of happiness and contentment and, as he watched, John felt something in his heart wrench. This was what he had hoped for in his own life and it had been taken from him. Of course, Alice had tried to convince him that he could have such a thing again – and well he could, of course, if he tried to find himself another wife, but there was something in him that held him back from doing so. He did not want to have to go to London, to parade himself through all the many social occasions that the ton would throw during the Season only to have a good many milk-water misses bat their eyes at him with nothing but an insipid character and beautiful face to show for themselves. But yet, even still, he longed for a wife and family of his own. That desire had never left him.

I do not want a wife who will be just the same as my first wife, he thought to himself, dragging his eyes away from his sister and Elouise in search of Miss Smith. I want someone who genuinely cares for me instead of seeing me as just my title and fortune.

It was a ridiculous notion, of course, particularly for a Duke but the hope that such a thing might, one day, occur did not instantly leave him. Instead, he let it linger, his eyes falling on Miss Smith as she sat reading quietly in the corner, clearly unaware of his presence.

Clearing his throat, John walked towards her, hearing Alice pause in her reading for a moment, only to resume it again. Glad that his sister and Miss Elouise would be distracted for a moment, for he did not want to be overheard, John gave Miss Smith a small smile as she looked up at him, clearly a little surprised to see him.

“Your grace,” she murmured, looking to get up from her seat, but John waved her back.

“There is no need to rise,” he said, one hand on the back of the chair opposite her. “Might I sit with you for a moment, Miss Smith?”

Her eyes rounded but she nodded and he sat down gratefully, hoping that she was not afraid of him in any way.

“Miss Smith,” he began, clearing his throat again as the words stuck in his throat. “I.... Miss Smith, I think I should begin by apologizing to you for some of the things I said to you in our recent meeting.”

She tipped her head a little to the side and he saw, for the first time, just how vividly blue her eyes were. “Oh?”

Hesitating for a moment, John took a breath to collect his thoughts before continuing on. “Indeed. I was very rude to you, Miss Smith, and for that, I apologize. I was angry and frustrated and should not have allowed such emotions to become evident in my speech.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Yes,” Miss Smith said after a moment. “Yes, you were very rude, your grace.”

A flush of heat crept up his neck and into his face, growing aware that, yet again, Miss Smith was speaking to him like no other person would. “For that, I apologize, as I said, Miss Smith.”

She considered him for another moment. “Elouise was rather upset, your grace. I had to speak to her calmly and patiently, to reassure her that it was nothing she herself had done that had made you rail at me in such a loud fashion. She heard every word, I’m afraid, and it has taken a good deal of convincing from both myself and Lady Alice before she would set foot in the drawing room or the library again.”

He nodded, his shame growing by the moment. “I would be quite glad to show Elouise that she is most welcome here, Miss Smith, if that would settle your mind.”

A small smile settled on her lips and, to his astonishment, John found himself smiling back at her.

“That would be most welcome, I am sure, your grace,” she said, carefully. “Although might I suggest that you do not disturb her at this present moment, for she is heartily enjoying a story with Lady Alice, as you can see.”

A question stuck in his throat, trying its best to be spoken aloud but John found that he could not bring himself to do so.

“She is doing wonderfully well,” Miss Smith continued, softly. “I am truly glad for her. She was so very miserable.”

“And –” John began, the words tumbling out of his mouth now. “If I make reparations with Miss Elouise, might you then consider forgiving me for my unpardonable rudeness towards you?”

Her smile stretched across her face and relief flooded him. “But of course, your grace. It would not do for a lady of such a lowly background as myself to withhold pardon from someone such as yourself!”

A flush caught his cheeks. “I would not have you do so without being willing, Miss Smith.”

“But willing I am,” she replied, gently. “Have no fear, your grace. I have received a good many insults in my life thus far and most of them have been a good deal worse than what you said.”

That did nothing to please him but rather sent his soul into a flurry of concern. “Is that so?” he asked, realizing that he knew nothing about this young lady. “Might I ask if you too come from the same background as Elouise, then? You may have told me before, I understand, but I have not always paid a good deal of attention.”

At his blush of shame, Miss Smith laughed gently and smiled at him, her blue eyes now sparkling with warmth instead of being icy with cold. “I do not mind saying so again, your grace. Yes, I too am without family, for both my parents died when I was young. I spent my life in the orphanage at Smithfield Market in London and it is from there that I come here. I managed to secure employment at the orphanage when Mary Sanders agreed to keep me on.” Her lips twitched. “We do make a good pair, I confess, for Mary Sanders is of a much more practical sort than I. It is quite understandable, I suppose, since she has never had to endure the difficulties that come with being an orphan.”

This made him pause. “By this,” he said slowly, thinking hard, “you must mean that Mary Sanders does not often see the tears in the eyes of those that come to you?”

She nodded, her eyes growing a little sorrowful for a moment. “That is quite correct, your grace. I think that both are of equal importance when it comes to ensuring that a girl is as happy as she can be in a very trying situation.”

“And what of me?”

The words slipped from his mouth before he could restrain them. Miss Smith looked surprised.

“What I mean is,” he said, floundering just a little. “Do you think, as my sister clearly does, that having Elouise present will help my emotional state, as dire as it is?” He felt very strange, opening himself up in such a vulnerable fashion with a lady he did not know particularly well at all, but there was something about her that made him want to do so and, to his relief, she did not seem to find his question in any way ridiculous.

“I do hope so, your grace,” she said, quietly, her eyes betraying her growing compassion for him. “I cannot imagine what you have endured. It must be a deep, unflinching agony, I expect. An agony which you cannot truly explain to anyone.”

His throat grew a little tight as she continued to speak, wondering how she was able to see into his very soul.

“I have seen such a pain in many a girl’s eyes,” she continued, softly. “And there are a good many things that can bring some relief, but I would state that these things differ for each person. One cannot tell you that what worked for them will, therefore, be sure to pull you from your misery, but I would think it wise to give each thing a try before discarding it.”

John glanced towards Elouise, hearing her laugh as Alice read something funny on the page in front of her.

“I suppose you are correct, Miss Smith,” he said, getting to his feet. “You have given me much to consider.” His eyes fell on the book she had been reading, his eyes rounding as astonishment filled him.

“You are reading a book on chess?”

She looked up at him, her brows furrowed. “I may be from the streets of London, my lord, but I can read. In fact, I enjoy reading very much and have done as much as I can these last years.”

Something like mirth tickled him, making his lips quirk. “Should I challenge you to a game, Miss Smith?”

He thought his challenge would go unmet, that she would turn him down and step away, claiming to be much too poor a player to be able to do such a thing, but much to her astonishment, she rose and nodded. “Is this it over here?” she asked, walking closer to the fire where the chess set was already set up and waiting. “Do you mind particularly if I choose the white?”

Quite sure that she was bluffing, John waved a hand. “Of course.” He waited for her to laugh, to turn around and state that she was only pretending that she could play and that, of course, she could do no such thing – but she then sat down and eyed her pieces carefully, looking over each one of them.

Slowly, he came towards her, sitting down opposite. Still, she did not turn him away, still, she did not tell him that it was all just a pretense.

“Shall we begin?” she asked, in a slightly firmer voice. “White begins, of course.”

If John was astonished at the beginning of his chess match, he was dumbfounded when, one hour later, he was quickly put into check. Staring at the board, he attempted to make one more final move, only for Miss Smith to put him to checkmate.

“I think I win,” Miss Smith murmured, her blue eyes alight with laughter as she looked into his face and saw his utter astonishment. “Should you care for another game, your grace?”

He shook his head, hardly able to believe that such a slip of a girl had been able to do what so many of his friends had been unable to do. He could not even recall the last time he had been put in check!

“You have done wonderfully, Miss Smith, and you have surprised me with your skill,” he admitted, still unable to lift his eyes from the board. “Well done.”

She colored prettily, her eyes dancing. “Thank you, your grace. I look forward to our next game, whenever that may be.”

John nodded, unable to rise as she walked away from him, staring at the chessboard in front of him. There was more to Miss Smith than he had first realized and, perhaps, she might bring a little happiness to his life in her own way, if only he would let her.