Lord Preston's Secret Governess

Chapter 5: Unspoken Kindness

“I understand what you’re thinking, but I assure you, it’s not because I’m afraid, Lord Preston. It’s just that Colin doesn’t like being alone at night.”
No response. The crease between his brows seemed to deepen, but perhaps she was mistaken. Even with the oil lamp, the light wasn’t strong enough to discern such details.
Exhaling softly, Jacqueline spoke in her usual cheerful tone. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came down for a cup of tea. Is there something you need?”

Windsor’s gaze shifted to the kettle on the stove. A plume of white steam curled from the spout.
“Oh dear, it’s already boiling.” Following his gaze, Jacqueline poured the boiling water into a teapot. She arranged the tea canister, strainer, and cups on a tray and turned to him. “So, what is it you need? It’s not my kitchen, so I’m not familiar with everything, but I’ll do my best to help.”
Her offer rendered Windsor speechless. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he had followed her, suspicious of her actions.

“Why didn’t you call for a maid?” he asked instead.
Jacqueline blinked, then frowned slightly. Even in the dim light, her expressions were clearly visible. His scrutinizing gaze swept over her face.
“It seemed a bit much to wake a maid at this hour for a cup of tea, especially on my first day. Fortunately, I’ve become quite accustomed to doing these things myself lately.” It was a veiled reference to her changed circumstances, a subtle way of saying she no longer had servants at her beck and call.

Yet, there was no trace of embarrassment or shame in her voice.
Windsor recalled the rumors surrounding her, the most prominent being her nickname, “the Penniless Lady.” He had imagined her to be a delicate flower, but perhaps she was more like a resilient wildflower, capable of weathering adversity.
“So, what can I get for you, Lord Preston?”

Windsor walked past her and expertly retrieved a crystal glass, filling it with water. He drained the glass in one long draught, set it down, and turned to her.
“There’s no need for you to wait on me, Miss Somerset. I’m quite accustomed to doing things myself.” It was a flimsy excuse. A water carafe, placed there by a maid, sat on his bedside table.
“I see.” But Jacqueline, unlike him, was not prone to suspicion. She simply nodded.

It made sense. He was different from other aristocrats. Born the illegitimate son of Bentley Preston, he had been raised by his opera singer mother and likely had to fend for himself.
It was ironic. Jacqueline, who had once relied on servants for everything, now had to do everything herself. And Windsor, who had always been self-sufficient, now had a household staff at his disposal.
They were opposites in almost every way, from their personalities to their circumstances.

Then, she held out Colin. “Would you mind taking Colin back to my room? My hands are full with the tray.”
Windsor’s gaze slowly shifted to the teddy bear pressed against his chest. He looked at it with a strange, almost bewildered expression, as if seeing such an object for the first time. Then, he looked up at Jacqueline. Their eyes met in the dim light. She smiled brightly.
“Unfortunately, I only have two hands.”
Windsor remained motionless. Jacqueline raised an eyebrow, as if prompting him to take the bear.

Windsor, baffled by the unexpected turn of the conversation, remained silent, mentally retracing their steps as if trying to pinpoint where things had gone awry.
“I trust you won’t abandon a lady in need, Lord Preston.”
“In need?” He slowly extended his hand. Jacqueline’s expression softened, anticipating his compliance. But then…

“Oh?” Windsor’s hand reached for the tray, not the teddy bear. He lifted it expertly with one hand and turned to leave. “I’ll carry this.”
“A word of advice, it’s actually harder to balance with the water sloshing around… Oh, you’re doing quite well.”
Jacqueline followed him, clutching Colin tightly in her arms. Not a drop of water spilled as Windsor walked with a steady gait.

She suddenly remembered he was a former naval officer. Balancing a tray was probably child’s play for someone accustomed to the swaying deck of a ship.
Windsor placed the tray on her bedside table and finally looked at her, his expression impassive. Moonlight streaming through the window illuminated his blond hair, giving it a silvery sheen.
His face, cast in shadow, seemed more masculine than it had during the day, but it suited him. Perhaps this was closer to his true nature.

“Thank you for your kindness, Lord Preston.” Jacqueline curtseyed. Colin, still clutched in her arms, bobbed along with her.
Windsor stared at the teddy bear with an unreadable expression, then turned to leave. “Call for a maid next time.”
“I will.”

“Good night, Miss Somerset.”
“!” Jacqueline blinked, surprised by his parting words. She hadn’t expected such a polite farewell from the usually stoic marquess.
A gentle smile, as soft as the moonlight, touched her lips. Just before the door closed, she spoke. “Good night to you too, Lord Preston.”

Click. The door closed. She didn’t know if he had heard her, but she was certain he had. She thought she had seen his head incline in a brief nod.
Jacqueline sighed contentedly and buried her face in Colin’s fur. “He really is like Benjamin. That unspoken kindness, that quiet willingness to help. Don’t you think so, Colin?”
Her muffled words disappeared into the teddy bear’s soft fur.

Jacqueline knew how to project the image of a perfect lady. It was one of her specialties.
Dressed in a morning gown, her braided hair neatly pinned up, she was the picture of impeccable refinement, especially with her posture and graceful gait.
She had just seen Windsor’s carriage depart from the manor. This was her time.

“Good morning, Benjamin.”
Benjamin, who had been reading, rose from his chair at her cheerful greeting. He was dressed impeccably, like a perfectly coiffed doll.
Mrs. Ritz’s handiwork, no doubt, Jacqueline thought, stepping into the room.

“Good morning, Miss Somerset.” His greeting was equally flawless. Jacqueline smiled brightly and walked towards him.
“Yes, a very good morning indeed.”
Betty followed her in and placed a bundle on the table. The diligent maid didn’t ask what it was for. She knew such questions were not her place.

“Thank you, Betty. You may leave now. Benjamin, our first lesson will be a discussion on the new direction of art. Appreciating art is a fundamental quality of a nobleman.”
After dismissing Betty with a nod, Jacqueline turned back to Benjamin, continuing her explanation. But her words were directed more at Betty than the boy. She could practically feel the maid’s ears straining to listen.
Betty curtseyed and left the room. Jacqueline knew she would go straight to Mrs. Ritz. It was a diligent maid’s duty to report everything the new governess did to the housekeeper.

Click. The door closed.
“…” But the sound of retreating footsteps didn’t follow. Jacqueline realized Betty hadn’t left yet. The dutiful maid was lingering outside the door, hoping to gather more information before reporting to Mrs. Ritz.
Alone with Benjamin, Jacqueline moved with practiced efficiency. She squeezed paints onto a palette and dipped her brushes in water, all the while continuing her lecture.

“Until now, art has been largely divided into Realism and Impressionism. Realist painters depicted objects and landscapes exactly as they appeared. To give you an idea of how realistic they were… Yes, I should tell you about the painter who depicted a funeral scene, a subject considered taboo at the time. The painting caused quite a scandal.”
Benjamin listened attentively, although he was already familiar with the subject matter. He was more interested in what she was doing, his brown eyes following her every move.
“Impressionism, which emerged later, focused on capturing fleeting moments, the ephemeral qualities of light and color. For example, the same cathedral would appear different in the morning, in the afternoon, at sunset, and at night. Impressionist painters boldly omitted specific details, emphasizing instead the interplay of light and shadow.”

The sound of retreating footsteps finally reached her ears. A smile spread across Jacqueline’s face.
“As I mentioned earlier, Realism and Impressionism have been the dominant art movements. While certain styles might have come and gone in fashion, they rarely deviated significantly from these two schools of thought.”
She picked up the palette and brushes and strode towards the wall. Benjamin’s eyes, which had been following her absently, suddenly widened.

“!”
Jacqueline’s voice took on a more playful tone. “And then, Fauvism arrived. The old traditions faded, and a new movement swept through the art world. The most important aspect of Fauvist art is…”
Benjamin was speechless. His wide eyes and raised eyebrows betrayed his astonishment.

“…to embrace bold colors and express the artist’s individuality without reservation. Finally, a world for myself.”
“!” Jacqueline brought a brush loaded with red paint to the ivory wallpaper. Her strokes were swift and sure, without hesitation.
Benjamin didn’t even blink. He looked like a finely crafted doll, and if it weren’t for the slight trembling of his long eyelashes, she might have mistaken him for porcelain.

“What do you think, Benjamin? What does this painting represent?”
“…” Still reeling from the shock, Benjamin only seemed to register his name. He focused intently, trying to formulate an answer to his governess’s question.