Chapter One

When the carriage rumbled down the road toward Blackwood Manor, Eleanor Campbell peered out the window, her breath catching at the sight of the estate's imposing grandeur. The Duke of Arden – one of the country's wealthiest and prominent men – had hired her as the governess for his daughters. Ms. Bennett, the headmistress at her previous post, had been eager to send her away, warning her that the Duke was a stern and demanding employer. Rumours had circulated amongst the staff, and previous governesses had spoken of the Duke's exacting nature.

Eleanor, the other hand, was not so easily deterred. She had confidence in her ability to teach and care for children. Back in Edinburgh, she had tutored several families with great success. Despite Ms. Bennett's thinly veiled attempts to unsettle her, Eleanor believed she could succeed here too.

As the carriage approached the grand entrance of Blackwood Manor, Eleanor's nerves began to churn. She smoothed the front of her dress and took a deep breath, willing herself to remain composed. When the footman unlocked the carriage door, she stepped out onto the gravel drive, her heart pounding in her chest.

Blackwood Manor loomed before her, a testament to centuries of wealth and power. Tall columns supported the grand portico, and intricate carvings adorned the stone façade. The colossal oak doors, flanked by liveried footmen, were held open, revealing a glimpse of the opulent interior.

Eleanor's breath caught as she entered the manor. The entrance hall was even more magnificent than she had imagined. Marble statues stood sentinel in alcoves, and rich tapestries draped the walls, their colours vibrant in the soft glow of candlelight. The air was perfumed with the heady scent of freshly cut flowers.

A sweeping staircase rose to the upper floor, illuminated by a glittering chandelier. To her right, a corridor of doors that led to various room and parlours. For a moment, Eleanor stood rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by the sheer opulence of her surroundings.

Ahem

Startled, Eleanor realised she was still standing in the doorway, lost in awe, she turned to see a butler regarding her with a kind, albeit slightly amused, expression.

"Forgive me," she blurted out, surprised at her own lapse in composure.

The butler, an elderly man with silver hair and warm, crinkling eyes, smiled. "The name is Arnold. I am the caretaker and butler of Blackwood Manor. If you have any questions during your stay here, please do look for me."

Eleanor nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Arnold."

"Now, if you'll follow me, Miss Campbell," Arnold said, gesturing for her to accompany him.

He led her down a corridor to a sitting room, where a tall figure stood by the window, his back to them. Eleanor's breath hitched when she realised who it was.

The Duke.

All the whispers from previous governesses, caressed her ears as she found herself face to face with a man of striking presence. The Duke was tall, with broad shoulders and an air of authority that seemed to fill the room. His dark hair neatly parted, and his sharp eyes assessed her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Miss Campbell," he said in a commanding voice, "welcome to Blackwood Manor. I trust your journey was satisfactory?"

Eleanor curtsied low, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Your Grace," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"Thank you for the opportunity to serve as the governess to your daughters," She added, slightly louder this time, though her gaze remained fixated on the floor.

The Duke nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to a plush armchair opposite him.

Eleanor perched on the edge of the chair, trying to maintain her composure as the Duke continued, his tone now clipped and business-like. "I must emphasise that my children are of utmost importance to me. I expect nothing but the best from those entrusted with their care."

"Of course, Your Grace," Eleanor replied, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest. "I am fully committed to this role and will do everything in my power to meet, and exceed, your expectations."

The Duke's gaze rested upon her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then he stood. "Allow me to introduce you to my daughters," he said, turning to leave the room.

Eleanor quickly rose to follow, matching his long strides as they walked down a grand hallway. Despite her earlier confidence, she couldn't help but feel like an imposter – a commoner thrust into a world of luxury and privilege.

But as they entered a warmly lit room, her nerves began to settle. Two little girls sat on a sofa situated in the middle of the room, their feet dangling above the floor. Their eyes – one pair brown, the other blue – sparkled with curiosity. Golden curls framed their cherubic faces, and Eleanor felt a warmth spread through her chest at the sight of them.

"These are my daughters," the Duke said. "Elizabeth," he nodded to the girl with brown eyes, "and Mary." He then gestured to the blue-eyed twin.

Eleanor knelt down to their level, smiling gently. "Hello, I'm Miss Campbell. I shall hope we become such good friends."

The girls exchanged a quick glance before Elizabeth, the seemingly more confident of the two, spoke up. "It is good to meet you, Miss. We're glad to have a new governess."

Her words, though rehearsed, were earnest, and Eleanor's heart swelled with affection for the two.

The twins, satisfied with their introduction, quickly scurried out of the room, leaving Eleanor alone with the Duke once more. She stood, noticing that they had moved to the doorway with her realising it.

"Miss Campbell," he said, his tone calm but firm, "you may begin your duties tomorrow. Ms. Dowden, the head housekeeper, will show you to your quarters."

With a nod of his head, the Duke turned and left. Eleanor watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. His presence was undeniably powerful, and she knew that working for him would not be easy, but she was determined to prove herself, no matter the challenges ahead.

***

Eleanor sat alone in her new quarters, a small but comfortable room furnished with a sturdy bed, a writing desk, and a wardrobe. She sank onto the bed, releasing a deep breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

Her thoughts drifted back to her meeting with the Duke. Despite his stern demeanour, there has been something about him – an intensity in his gaze– that had left an impression on her,

He was strikingly handsome, something no one can deny. But Eleanor pushed the thought aside. She was a governess, nothing more. She had no place entertaining foolish notions about her employer. With a sigh, she stood and began unpacking her belongings.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She opened it to find a petite maid holding a tray off food.

"Evening, Miss," the maid said with a small curtsy. "Mrs Dowden asked me to bring you some supper."

"Thank you," Eleanor said, accepting the tray with a smile.

She sat down at her desk and began to eat. The soup was warm and comforting, but Eleanor found herself unable to fully relax. As she neared the end of her meal, she heard a faint sound from the corridor outside.

Curious, she set her spoon down and went to the door, only opening it a crack. To her surprise, she saw the Duke strolling down the hall, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression was pensive, as though he was deep in thought.

Eleanor quickly closed the door, leaning against it as her heart raced. What was the Duke doing out at this hour? And why did his solitary figure stir something in her that she couldn't quite place?

Shaking her head, Eleanor told herself it was time for bed. But curiosity tugged at her, tempting her to explore the manor. She hastily wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, picked up her lit candle from her desk, and quietly opened the door once more.

She treaded carefully down the hallway, avoiding the direction in which she had last seen the Duke. The manor was silent, its grand corridors bathed in shadows. Eleanor rounded a corner, her heart pounding with the thrill of her secretive adventure – only to nearly collide with the Duke himself.

"Miss Campbell," he said, voice low and measure. "What are you doing out of your room at this hour?"

Eleanor felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she realised how foolish she must look. "I am deeply sorry, Your Grace," She stammered, lowering her gaze. "I couldn't sleep, and I thought a walk might help."

The Duke's brow furrowed as he regarded her intently. "I see," he said, his tone softening slightly. "However, it is not safe for a lady to wander the halls alone at night. Please return to your room immediately."

"Yes, Your Grace," Eleanor replied, feeling thoroughly chastised. "I'm sorry for any inconvenience."

The Duke nodded curtly, and Eleanor quickly turned to retreat back to her quarters. As she walked away, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. She had expected, perhaps foolishly, something more from the encounter – what exactly, she couldn't say.

Back in her room, Eleanor climbed into bed and pulled the blanket tightly around her. Sleep came slowly, her thoughts swirling with day's events and the mysterious figure of the Duke of Arden, who seemed to loom as large in her mind as Blackwood Manor itself. 

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