Lord Preston's Secret Governess

Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Not an Ideal Hour for Screaming

Jacqueline smiled warmly and sat across from Benjamin. The head of the table remained empty. She glanced at the vacant chair before turning her attention back to the boy.

“I’m looking forward to my first meal at Preston Manor.”

“...” Benjamin remained silent, staring straight ahead with a tense expression.

A moment later, the dining room door opened again. Jacqueline glanced at the clock on the wall, her eyes widening as she noted the time: precisely 7:00.

Windsor entered, accompanied by the butler, and stopped at the doorway. His gaze swept over Jacqueline and Benjamin.

“Uh... since Miss Somerset is here, I thought we could dine together...” Benjamin mumbled, as if offering an explanation. Seated at the table later than usual, he looked as though he had committed some grave offense, his head bowed.

Windsor’s voice was impassive. “Speak clearly. Don’t mumble.”

“Y-yes, sir!” Benjamin straightened, his expression tense. He lifted his head and looked directly at Windsor. “Since Miss Somerset is here, I thought we could dine together.”

“I’ll eat later.” With that, Windsor turned and left the dining room.

Benjamin’s shoulders slumped, his expression downcast. Jacqueline could see his disappointment.

William, unfazed, began serving their meal. Dishes arrived one by one.

Jacqueline unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. She whispered softly, as if offering consolation, “It seems Lord Preston doesn’t want to dine with me. We had a slight disagreement earlier.” Implying that Windsor’s abrupt departure was due to her, not Benjamin.

She made a comical face, hoping to elicit a smile from the boy, but Benjamin remained stoic. Hiding her disappointment, she reached for a roll.

Just then, Benjamin’s quiet voice drifted across the table. “Uncle... doesn’t dine with anyone.”

Understanding the hidden meaning in his words, Jacqueline whispered gently, “Is that so? Then you’ll be dining with me from now on, Benjamin.”

The boy simply nodded, his expression unreadable. Jacqueline chewed her roll, suspecting that life at Preston Manor wouldn’t be as smooth as she’d hoped.

At least the chef was exceptional. She picked up her spoon and began to eat, her movements graceful yet efficient. She suddenly realized this was her first proper meal of the day.

* * *

Five hundred and fifty-two... five hundred and fifty-three... five hundred and fifty-four...

Staring at the dark ceiling, Jacqueline sighed deeply. Despite counting sheep, her eyes remained wide open.

The day had been a whirlwind. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until now, lying awake in the late hours.

“Well, it’s only natural to be nervous. New place, new people.” She offered herself some gentle reassurance. “I did quite well for my first day.”

“A cup of tea might help.” Giving up on sleep, she threw back the covers and got out of bed. Sometimes, it was better to keep moving.

“Aaah...!” Just as she was about to scream, a large hand clamped over her mouth. Her heart lurched, as if plummeting to her stomach.

The terror of a monster from her imagination materializing into reality was indescribable. Her mind conjured images of a gruesome end.

Oh, God! Just as she whispered a final prayer, a deep voice resonated above her, far too polite to belong to a monster.

“Not an ideal hour for screaming, Miss Somerset.”

“...Mmmpphh... L-Lord...?” Muffled sounds escaped her lips. The hand covering her mouth was removed.

“Lord Preston?” Jacqueline repeated, her voice clearer now. Her suspicious gaze scrutinized the shadowy figure.

Perhaps it’s a monster imitating Lord Preston’s voice. I think I read a book about that. Her imagination ran wild. She raised the oil lamp closer to his face.

“Ah, it really is Lord Preston.” She breathed a sigh of relief, her tense body relaxing like a damp rag.

Windsor, frowning, stepped back from the light. His voice, flat and emotionless, cut through the silence. “What are you doing here at this hour, Miss Somerset?”

Without hesitation, Jacqueline moved the lamp closer, as if afraid he would transform into a monster if he stepped out of the light. The crease between Windsor’s brows deepened.

“Ah!” Suddenly, Jacqueline’s eyes widened. Windsor narrowed his gaze, watching her avoid his question.

Is she evading my question?

Just then, she blurted out, “You... resemble Benjamin.”

Windsor stared at her silently. Even in the dim light, her green eyes shone brightly.

“I didn’t notice earlier, with your hair slicked back with pomade, but it’s quite fluffy, like cotton candy. Just like Benjamin’s.”

Windsor’s brow furrowed further, trying to decipher her thoughts. He had unusually keen eyesight and hearing, perhaps inherited from his opera singer mother, or perhaps honed during his time in the military. He was always the first to notice anything out of the ordinary. Often, the alarm bells signaling enemy presence wouldn’t sound until after he had already reacted.

His lieutenant, Roman, had once joked, “Do you have antennae or something?” only to be met with a withering glare.

His sharp ears had picked up the soft footsteps padding down the hallway. They weren’t the steps of a servant. These were more refined, more graceful.

He knew instantly who it was. And he wondered why she was moving about so stealthily at this late hour.

Checking his watch, he rose from his chair. Roman had assured him that she hadn’t contacted the King, but it was Windsor’s duty to be suspicious. He wasn’t one to regret his actions after the fact. He was a cautious and meticulous man.

“I would appreciate it if you made your presence known next time. You startled me.” A hint of reproach colored her voice, her gaze sharper than usual.

Windsor’s eyes flicked downwards. He frowned slightly at the sight of the teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.

Catching the subtle shift in his expression, she quickly offered an explanation.