“No, no, Sarah,” Sophia laughed, as the girl began to spin around the dance floor. “You are not listening to me.”

“I am listening to the music,” the little girl exclaimed, holding out her arms wide as she danced around. “Listen to it, Miss Weston!”

Sophia laughed again, unable to chide the girl. The pianist continued to play, regardless of what Sarah was doing, looking to Sophia for guidance, but she simply shrugged and let her express herself.

The last three weeks had been a wonderful, albeit very different to what Sophia had been used to. There were no servants to help her, although she did still have trays brought to her whenever she required them. She was expected to rise early and prepare her lessons for the day, to teach Sarah with care and consideration, before ensuring that everything was neat and tidy for the following day. Her gowns were black, grey, or a mixture of the two instead of the normal, bright colors she had been used to wearing, and there was no maid sent to dress her hair. Pulling it up into a bun every day had taken some getting used to, but by now she was more than proficient at doing so. While Sophia certainly found her life a great deal busier than before, and certainly difficult in terms of how she was seen by both the staff and the duke, she felt a growing happiness deep within her. That was all because of Sarah.

The little girl had been the happiness and the joy she had needed, sending light back into her soul with each day they spent together. There were times, of course, when the girl was disobedient or just downright unruly, but those times were few and far between. It often only took a few sharp words from Sophia to have her settle back down again.

Sarah, for whatever reason, had taken to Sophia almost at once, and she was an easy young lady to teach. She seemed to revel in learning as much as she could and was growing more and more proficient in reading with each day that passed. She knew her numbers and had begun to study arithmetic, although her greatest joy was to be out of doors, running and skipping and doing all the things a young girl ought to do at her age. It had been a joy for Sophia, too, to be allowed such freedoms as walking in the garden whenever she chose or finding a new book from the library.

Her brother, when she had been living at home, had severely curtailed Sophia’s freedom the last few weeks she had lived there, even to the point of banning her from walking out of doors alone. So, to have that joy again brought Sophia a great deal of happiness. Most of all, however, Sophia was glad to have Sarah by her side each day. The gladness the little girl displayed on an almost daily basis on seeing Sophia at her door brought her such a happiness that, at times, Sophia did not quite know how to contain it all.

That did not mean, however, that Sophia did not miss the dreams and the hopes for her future that she had once had. They had been a part of her life for a long time, back when her father still lived. She had dreamed of going to London, of being courted and the like, before finding a suitable match for herself. Now, of course, that could never be. At some point, she was sure, the duke would remarry, and she might have to watch the family grow together whilst she remained on the sidelines, if she were permitted to stay.

However, Sophia knew she would simply have to accept that now. To linger on those dreams, to feel regret and sadness for the life she would never have, would only send bitterness into her soul. Instead, she would be grateful for what she had been given, for the duke’s kindness in letting her stay on as governess even though this was her very first charge.

She laughed again, as she saw Sarah raise her hands up to the ceiling, her fingers wiggling back and forth as she spun around. She could see now why the duke had so much love for his daughter, for she was truly a remarkable young lady.

That thought made her pause. The duke himself was a man she had not quite managed to make out as yet. They spoke on a weekly basis, so that she might tell him how things were with his daughter, but he never gave very much away. He asked questions about Sarah and was always pleased to hear about her progress, but there was never any true conversation between them. Not that she should expect it, of course, but yet there was a small desire growing steadily in her heart, a desire to know the duke better.

It did not help that she was beginning to realize that he was truly a handsome gentleman, even though she had been a little afraid of him their first few conversations. When he smiled, she felt something glow within her, even more so when the smile was directed at her. The bright blue of his eyes was always warm whenever they conversed, usually fixed on her face instead of drifting elsewhere. He was a man who liked to give his full attention to whatever it was he was doing, and Sophia had never felt so aware of his consideration whenever his eyes lingered on her.

Were she still a lady of quality, not one who had been forced to remove herself from her position in her brother’s home to a paid occupation, then she might have allowed herself to return some of his smiles, to allow the desire to develop her acquaintance with him to move forward. Knowing that she could do no such thing, Sophia had kept her distance and only spoken to him when he had asked a question of her. There had so often been a time when she had wanted to ask him about his home, ask him about his wife – Sarah’s mother – who was very rarely spoken of, but she had kept her mouth closed and her lips silent. This was not her home and certainly not her place to ask such things. And so, her desires would be kept within her, kept secret and silent, as she continued her tutelage of Sarah, trying her best to remain glad for all she had been given instead of longing for more.

“Now, whatever is this?”

Turning on her heel, Sophia gasped as the duke walked into the ballroom, another gentleman just behind him. Waving a hand at the pianist, she curtsied quickly just as Sarah ran over to her father, throwing her arms about his waist.

“I do apologize, your grace,” Sophia said hurriedly. “I was attempting to teach Sarah the first few steps of the waltz, but she was just enjoying the music too much, and so I thought to allow her to dance her own way for a time.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, as the duke lifted one eyebrow and looked at her directly, aware that she had not been doing as was expected in his eyes.

“Oh, leave off, Mathew,” the other gentleman interrupted, slapping the duke on the shoulder. “Your daughter was just having a bit of fun.” He grinned at Sophia, who, not knowing who this man or what she was to do, curtsied again.

Bending down to Sarah, the gentleman smiled at her, his expression softening. “Well, well,” he said softly. “Are you not just like your father, little Sarah? All the better, I say,” he finished, patting her hand.

“Sarah,” the duke interrupted, looking down at his daughter. “Do you remember Lord Arthur Arthur? He is your uncle.”

“Uncle Arthur,” the gentleman replied, rolling his eyes at the formality. “Uncle Arthur to you, dear child.”

Sarah stepped away from her father and studied her uncle for a moment, before a smile of recognition came over her face, and she hugged him tightly. Sophia could not help but smile at the sight, finding it almost too intimate for her to be a part of.

“Should I leave you, your grace?” she murmured, as Lord Arthur and Sarah began to talk with one another. “I do apologize for the dancing, as well; it was only a few minutes of fun, I assure you.”

Looking up at him, Sophia was surprised to find a curious gleam in his eye, as though a thought had suddenly struck him.

“No, you may carry on,” he said abruptly. “Sarah, come here for a moment. Tell me, what dance was Miss Weston to be teaching you?”

“The waltz,” Sarah replied, screwing up her face. “But I did not like it. I much prefer to do my own. I was being a butterfly, Papa.”

Holding her breath, Sophia waited for the duke’s reaction, only to let it out in a long breath, as he laughed, patting his daughter on the head. “Very good, my dear,” he said, waving his hand at the pianist. “But I can assure you that you can be just as much a butterfly when you are waltzing as when you are dancing all on your own.”

The music began to play again, and Sophia took a single step back from the duke and his daughter, thinking that he was about to lead Sarah onto the floor and show her some of the steps. However, much to her surprise, the duke turned to her and held out one hand.

“I think Miss Weston and I shall show you just what we mean, Sarah,” he continued, his eyes still on his daughter, as he waited for Sophia to take his hand. “Your uncle may dance with you after you have watched us, if you wish.”

Her throat constricted, as she stared at the duke, her heart quickening as her fingers hesitantly touched his. He grasped her hand firmly the moment she did so, as though not allowing her to escape, and they walked onto the dance floor.

Heat poured into her face as he let go of her hand and bowed, just as he might do had they met at a ball. Curtsying as best she could, Sophia trained her gaze to go over the duke’s left shoulder, as he took her hand, jumping slightly when his other hand settled on her waist.

“I assume you know the steps, Miss Weston,” he murmured, as he began to lead her across the floor. “No treading on my toes now.”

Her eyes jumped to his, seeing the mirth there. Smiling a little hesitantly, she continued to allow him to lead, tension running through her limbs.

This was not right. A governess did not dance with a duke, not even when they were supposedly showing his daughter how it was to go. She could hear Sarah laughing and clapping as they continued to spin around the floor, her mind filling with thoughts and anxieties as the duke held her tightly.

“You must relax, Miss Weston,” the duke murmured softly, “Look at me, please. You are wound like a spinning top; I can feel the tension in your hands.”

“I do apologize, your grace,” Sophia whispered, not able to drag her eyes toward his, as he had requested. “This is a little surprising for me.”

He chuckled quietly. “That I can tell. You are a proficient dancer, I am sure, but you still need to relax. Look at me, Miss Weston.”

It was a command, not a request, and so, with her heart hammering in her chest, Sophia returned her gaze to his face.

His eyes were burning with a deep intensity, to the point that Sophia found herself entirely unable to look away. To her shock, he pulled her a little closer, a little too close given the impropriety of what they were already doing, and her breath hitched.

Something flickered over his face, sending a warm darkness into his eyes. Sophia clung to him, feeling entirely overwhelmed and feeling such a stirring of desire and affection within her that she was sure he would be able to tell were she to continue dancing with him much longer.

“Your grace,” she whispered, through lips that were barely able to form words. “I–”

“Miss Weston,” he interrupted, his words soft and for her ears only. “You are a wonderful dancer. Indeed, there is more to you than I ever expected. You have blossomed before my very eyes, as a beautiful rose might slowly reveal the beauty of its petals.”

The compliment was as unexpected as the dance, her mouth going completely dry as he looked at her, a rush of heat crawling up her spine and into her face.

And then, the music came to a close. Sarah and her uncle were still busy dancing, although Sarah was getting none of the steps correct whatsoever, and much to Sophia’s relief, neither of them seemed in the least bit interested in what had been going on between Sophia and the duke.

The duke slowly released her waist but kept her other hand in his. Sophia pressed her lips together as he lowered his head to her hand, his lips brushing the back of her hand as though she had truly been a lady at the ball, had truly been his dance partner for one of the two waltzes that would be played that evening.

Sparks shot into her vision, her skin prickling as he held her hand for just a moment too long. Nothing was said between them, but Sophia knew that she would never be able to see the duke in the same way again. She had been in his arms; she had felt the heat rushing through her veins, as she had danced with him and allowed her heart to fill with a rush of affection that could never be returned.

“Thank you, Miss Weston,” he said, his voice a little hoarse as he stepped back. “I do hope my daughter was watching.”

With one lingering look, he stepped away from her and walked back toward his daughter, who was still being spun around by her uncle. Sarah laughed aloud and ran toward Sophia, catching her hand and dragging her back toward the duke and Lord Arthur.

“My goodness, you are like a spinning top!” Lord Arthur declared, ruffling Sarah’s dark curls. “I am sure you shall be just as good a dancer as Miss Weston one day.”

“I am certain of it,” the duke agreed, smiling down at his daughter. “Miss Weston is an excellent dancer and an even more excellent tutor, so I have no doubt that Sarah will turn out very well.”

He did not look at her as he spoke those words, but the compliments brought Sophia a rush of pleasure.

“Thank you, your grace,” she murmured, wondering when her heart would stop its furious thundering that had begun the moment the duke had asked her to dance. “I think it is time for our walk in the gardens, Sarah. Is that acceptable to you, your grace?”

“More than acceptable,” the duke replied, lifting his eyes to hers. “Although dinner will be a little earlier than usual so that Sarah can join us.”

Sophia nodded, setting her shoulders and drawing in a deep breath so that she might regain some sense of composure. “Of course. I will ensure Sarah is ready.”

Lord Arthur cleared his throat, nudging his brother.

“Oh, of course, I quite forgot. Miss Weston, next week I am expecting a small party to join us at the house. My brother has recently returned from his travels and wishes to be reacquainted with a few friends.”

Not quite sure how this affected her, Sophia nodded and glanced from one to the other. “I see.”

“Sarah will be asked to join us at times during the day, and during your daily walks in the grounds, there may be others present,” the duke continued, ignoring his daughter’s squeals of excitement. “However, I will expect her education to continue for the most part, you understand.”

“I quite understand,” Sophia agreed, reaching forward and taking hold of Sarah’s hand so as to quieten her. “Might I ask how long they will be staying for? Just so that I can prepare for some disruption to Sarah’s lessons.”

“No longer than ten days,” the duke replied, with just a hint of displeasure in his voice, giving Sophia the impression that he was not exactly looking forward to his guests arriving. “You will have advance notice of when and where Sarah is to join us. Although, most days, I shall come to fetch her myself.”

A hint of anxiety began to rattle through Sophia’s chest as she wondered whether or not the duke expected her to join Sarah alongside the rest of the guests. She could not bear the thought of mixing with the beau monde again, not when she had been so removed from her status.

“Is everything quite all right, Miss Weston?”

Her eyes leapt back to his, and she nodded fervently, not wanting to explain her worries to him since that was not the done thing. “Yes, of course, your grace. Thank you.”

He nodded, a slight frown settling between his brows, as she pressed Sarah’s hand.

“Well then, good afternoon to you, Miss Weston. Sarah, enjoy your walk with Miss Weston. You are to join us for dinner. So, for heaven’s sake, do not get yourself covered in mud or the like.” His eyes twinkled, as he patted his daughter’s cheek, making Sophia smile at the tenderness he displayed toward her.

“I will not, Papa,” Sarah replied in a very serious voice. “I shall make sure to be perfectly clean.”

“Of course, you will,” Lord Arthur boomed, chuckling. “Enjoy yourself, little one. I will see you soon.”