Free If the Slipper Fits by Olivia Drake Page B

much of it. I’m merely doing what’s best for my nephew. Miss Quinn can supervise his studies and provide him with any mothering he might need.”
    “Mothering? I thought we’d agreed His Grace is too old for a governess.”
    “Quite so. But Lady Milford believes otherwise and I’ve decided to defer to her better judgment.”
    Simon was still annoyed that Clarissa had acted without his express permission. Months ago, she’d striven to convince him that Nicholas needed someone to replace his mother. Simon had bluntly pointed out the folly in her reasoning. When had the boy ever known love and affection from Diana? It wasn’t as if he had anything to miss. The late Duchess of Kevern had been too dedicated to her own frivolities to pay heed to her only child.
    A pity he himself had been blind to Diana’s self-seeking nature when they’d first met all those years ago. He’d found out the hard way, when she’d scorned his marriage proposal and shifted her sights to George and the title.
    Bunting continued to whine. “My lord, pray do not think it unseemly of me to question your decisions. However, I must point out that having a woman in the schoolroom is a disruptive influence. She will distract His Grace from his studies.”
    “What exactly has she done?”
    “For one, she attempted to prevent me from rebuking His Grace for daydreaming. As you know, the boy must not be coddled if he is to be prepared for Eton next year. I cannot maintain discipline in the classroom so long as that female continues to interfere.”
    Simon wanted nothing to do with their petty squabbles. “I expect you’ll find a way to compromise. Is that all?”
    “Unfortunately not! The woman also had the temerity to inform me that she was canceling this afternoon’s classes so the duke could take her on a tour of the castle. She is wasting precious study time. You must speak to her on the matter at once!”
    “I can’t imagine it’ll do him any harm to enjoy a half-holiday. In the meantime, you should take advantage of her help and find a way to divide the classroom duties.”
    “I beg your pardon?” The vicar’s lips flattened together. “She cannot possibly be a suitable teacher. She lacks an Oxford education. How can we know she is even qualified in the slightest?”
    “Lady Milford selected Miss Quinn. That is recommendation enough for me. Good day, Vicar.”
    Simon urged his mount to a trot up the winding road to the castle. He hoped to God that would be the end of it. Continuing to referee quarrels between those two was not a prospect he relished. He expected his employees to perform their duties unobtrusively, just as the cavalrymen under his command had obeyed his orders without question.
    Overseeing a large household and estate had never figured into Simon’s plan for his life. At this very moment, he should have been in Turkey or Greece or some other exotic locale, exploring ancient ruins in search of lost treasures. The previous autumn he’d been waiting to board a ship in Dover when the letter had arrived with the tragic news about George and Diana.
    A few more hours and he’d have set sail for Athens …
    Simon thrust his bitterness and regret back into the lockbox of memory. Returning to Cornwall had not been so terrible a hardship. Castle Kevern had been his boyhood home, after all. He knew every inch of these woods, every cave along the rocky shoreline, every hill and meadow and cove. Besides, honor would not permit him to shirk his obligation to watch over the estate for Nicholas.
    His brooding thoughts settled on his nephew. The vicar brought Nicholas to the study at teatime every Friday afternoon for a report on his studies. But the boy’s timidity always stymied Simon. As a child, he himself had been a boisterous lad, talkative and unafraid of any adult. Precocious, his late grandmother used to say with a wink.
    Nicholas, however, seemed afraid of his own shadow. He seldom offered more than a few halting,