Chapter 27
“So what did you think of the <Miss Lamour> sequel, Miss Irene?”
Startled out of her daze, Irene looked up at Chloe.
While Irene had been recovering, Chloe had already devoured every new release. Now, looking thoroughly bored, she absentmindedly flipped the pages of a book back and forth.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t had the chance to read it yet…”
As if she possibly could. Trying to banish the memory of Dominic’s contemptuous gaze that had haunted her all night, Irene answered quietly.
“By the way, Lady Chloe…”
“Yes?”
“Does His Grace know… that you read these romance novels?”
“No.”
The moment Chloe answered flatly, Irene continued.
“Have you just… never told him? Or is it a secret…?”
“My brother would obviously forbid me from reading them. Whenever he tries to come into my library, I chase him out. Mrs. Lidden keeps my secret too.”
Remembering the way Dominic had practically exploded the previous day over the idea that she’d let Chloe read such trashy novels, Irene had to admit…she understood the girl’s reasoning.
Come to think of it, no one was allowed into Chloe’s library except Mrs. Lidden, the head housekeeper.
It wasn’t simply because Chloe was a difficult young lady to attend. The restriction existed to protect her dignity and privacy. Though Irene certainly hadn’t expected it to be so strict that not even the master of the estate was allowed inside.
Not only that, whenever Chloe took a book out of her library, she always slipped it into an elegant velvet book cover.
“You have to keep my secret too, Miss Irene.”
Chloe, who had no way of knowing what had happened last night, urged her governess with a faint smile. In a way, Irene had ended up keeping the secret after all. Granted, she’d done so at the cost of being branded an irredeemable pervert.
And on top of that…
‘If that’s the sort of thing you’re after, then I’ll handle it personally. From now on, as for Chloe and these trashy books—’
She’d even received that utterly absurd proposal.
At the time, she’d been too busy defending herself against accusations of being an anarchist to properly process it, but the more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it became.
It sounded like something straight out of one of those sensational romance novels.
A secret affair between the Duke of Whitmore — the most eligible bachelor in high society — and a penniless governess from a fallen noble family? It was completely preposterous.
Just then, Chloe’s impatient voice cut through her thoughts.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
Snapping back to reality, Irene found Chloe watching her lips with narrowed eyes.
Those steady blue eyes looked uncannily like the man who had interrogated her the night before. They’re definitely siblings. The resemblance left Irene feeling strangely unsettled.
“O-Oh. Right, I understand. I will…”
Determined to banish the lingering memory, Irene forced a smile and hastily changed the subject.
“By the way, there are plenty of stories about unfortunate people in the classics too. Have you ever tried reading classic literature?”
“I have, but I didn’t find them interesting. Too boring.”
“Even so…”
At this rate, Irene felt that if they kept talking about trashy romances, something terrible was going to happen.
But Chloe, already accustomed to more stimulating stories, looked thoroughly uninterested. Then again, as the daughter of a duke, she’d undoubtedly been exposed to more than enough classics since childhood.
Just as Irene managed to swallow another complicated sigh, Chloe tilted her head.
“Miss Irene, is something wrong? Did my brother say something to you? He was acting strangely at lunch yesterday.”
The sharp observation made Irene flinch inwardly, but she calmly shook her head.
“No. Oh, why would His Grace have anything to say to me?”
He had. Quite a lot, in fact. And in the most terrifying way imaginable!
Of course, there was no way she could tell Chloe about the nightmare that had unfolded the previous evening. Truthfully, she wanted to forget the entire disastrous (?) ordeal herself.
Still… by sacrificing what little dignity she had left, she’d managed to keep Chloe’s secret. It was a relief that there was at least one silver lining.
Having started the day without a proper night’s sleep, Irene returned to her room completely exhausted and collapsed onto the bed.
Turning her head, she glared resentfully at the two books sitting on her desk.
Irene Vanderberg wasn’t even the sort of person who enjoyed tabloid gossip. She’d been a model student her entire life. She’d only vaguely known that trashy romance novels existed, and it wasn’t until she met Chloe that she’d actually read one.
Granted… she couldn’t deny that she’d become engrossed in those scandalous stories. But surely that wasn’t enough to earn her the reputation of being the world’s most depraved, psychopathic pervert.
“Haa…”
Her head throbbed, and a wave of heat rushed through her. Another heavy sigh escaped her lips. Leaving Whitmore Manor really did seem like the best solution. The problem was that it wouldn’t be easy.
The Duke of Whitmore had absolutely no intention of giving up the positive changes he’d seen in his sister. Otherwise, he never would have made such a ridiculous proposal.
Besides, Irene herself didn’t dislike spending time with Chloe.
Perhaps it was because Chloe reminded her of the younger sister who had remained forever eighteen in her memories, but whenever they talked, Irene found herself smiling.
In a lonely life with so little to smile about, those moments — brief as they were, when she could remember what it had been like to have family — were precious. Even so, they weren’t precious enough to justify enduring such unfair misunderstandings.
It was definitely the right decision to quit.
“I’ll tell him I’m leaving…”
Fixing her tired gaze on the desk one last time, Irene reached her decision and slowly closed her eyes.
An improper relationship between employer and governess? Even in the most formulaic romance novels, that plot was hopelessly outdated. Irene had no desire to make the same foolish choices as their protagonists.
After all, those stories always ended in ruin.
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