Chapter 2
*The Devil of the Black Fleet*
Upon entering the mansion, Jacqueline felt a stiff atmosphere settle around her. The maids she encountered were expressionless, and everything was impeccably arranged, without a single out-of-place item. Curtains hung rigidly, carpets formed perfect right angles with the walls. It was all so immaculate that Jacqueline couldn’t help but feel a slight tension, perhaps due to the owner’s temperament. With a slightly anxious expression, she offered a polite greeting as she bowed.
“Pleased to meet you, Lord Preston. I’m Jacqueline Somerset. Close friends call me Jackie.”
Though she didn’t explicitly say he could call her Jackie, the meaning was clear. He returned her friendly gaze.
“Miss Somerset will suffice.”
“…Yes.”
Lord Windsor’s gaze slowly swept over her from head to toe, as if appraising an object. Unconsciously, Jacqueline straightened her posture. His emotionless stare could have felt austere, yet strangely, she didn’t find it discomforting. As someone accustomed to curious glances from the genteel, even indifferent scrutiny from Windsor felt somewhat reassuring.
The first impression of Windsor Preston wasn’t as bad as the rumors suggested, and he seemed more courteous than Jacqueline had anticipated. Nonetheless, he didn’t strike her as an easy employer. Eventually, his gaze withdrew, and he nodded faintly, a signal she only realized later signaled her acceptance.
“I’ve heard of Somerset’s protege,” he remarked.
“Yes.”
The two were meeting for the first time. One might expect encounters in noble society to be inevitable, but unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case. Windsor’s late arrival into noble society coincided with Jacqueline’s departure from social circles. She unconsciously tensed at the thought of her father’s accident coming up in conversation. Throughout her experiences, she knew the typical trajectory of discussions following the mention of “Lord Somerset.”
“I’ve heard you went to Bristol Girls’ Boarding School. Is that correct?”
Jacqueline missed the timing to respond to the unexpected question, marking her second mistake already. Under Windsor’s stoic gaze, she quickly nodded. His gray eyes seemed both contemplative and cold, akin to a winter sky.
Clearing her throat, Jacqueline managed to maintain a casual demeanor as she replied, “Yes, Lord Preston.”
“History of the Continent would have been a compulsory subject. How were your grades?”
Jacqueline felt increasingly lost, but she couldn’t muster the audacity to remain silent before his piercing gaze.
Windsor Preston had no interest in Jacqueline Somerset, now better known as the “pauper heiress.” Instead, he seemed curious about her abilities.
“You passed your graduation exams in one go, so I assume you were quite proficient.”
“How many instruments can you play?”
“I’m skilled with the piano and violin, and I can play the flute and cello to some extent.”
“Can you ride or shoot?”
“I haven’t learned shooting, but I’m quite proficient in horseback riding. I’ve been riding since I was ten.”
At that moment, Windsor’s eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. Jacqueline’s eyes subtly betrayed a hint of tension at this subtle change.
“I prefer precise expressions over ambiguous ones, Miss Somerset.”
“…Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jacqueline forced a sociable smile, keeping her mouth from grimacing, lest her face betray her feelings.
With a casual nod, Windsor continued his inquiries.
“Do you have sufficient artistic aptitude?”
“Of course, Lord Preston. Especially in the realm of fine arts… very deep.”
“Do you speak any foreign languages?”
“I can speak Slennian and Nortian.”
“Excellent. The previous governess was teaching Benjamin Nortian. It’s better to learn the languages of our allies in advance, don’t you think?”
With that, Windsor rose from his seat. His imposing presence seemed much larger when standing than when seated.
His broad shoulders and poised stride suggested a blend of aristocracy and military bearing. Suddenly, his epithet came to mind: “The Devil of the Black Fleet.”
Jacqueline forgot, for a moment, that it was impolite to stare, as she gazed intently at his face. Memories of a passage declaring demons more beautiful than angels flashed through her mind. It was the inherent allure that captivated human hearts.
In that sense, Windsor Preston was indeed a devil.
Windsor retrieved a pocket watch from his pocket. There was a click as the lid opened.
“Benjamin should be in his room reading at this hour. Follow me.”
“…Yes.”
Jacqueline, momentarily stunned by his imposing presence, instinctively reached out a hand. Windsor, who was about to pass by her, paused.
Swoosh.
His slow-moving gaze glanced at Jacqueline’s hand, then at her face.
“Ah.”
Jacqueline flinched, belatedly realizing her mistake. Quietly, she withdrew her hand, realizing that Windsor was her employer, not an escort.
“Let’s go.”
As if nothing had happened, Jacqueline bravely took the lead. Only once Windsor was behind her did her expression begin to distort slowly. The silent outcry echoed only in her mind.
“Which way should we go, Lord Preston?”
Jacqueline gracefully turned back in the spiral staircase corridor, wearing a noble expression as if she had made no mistake.
“To the left.”
Windsor passed her with dignified steps, and Jacqueline, swallowing another sigh, followed behind him.
Oh my, why did I make such a mistake there of all places…!
Behind Windsor’s back, Jacqueline’s face contorted into a wry expression.
Windsor’s movements were smooth and efficient. Following behind him, Jacqueline straightened her posture unnecessarily.
Somehow, it felt like she couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes. Like the stiff curtains or the carpet aligned perfectly with the walls, she too felt she had to be flawless.
Windsor stopped in front of one of the identical-looking doors and lightly knocked before opening it. Jacqueline quickly glanced past his shoulder, her heels lifted.
Inside, there were clean ivory walls, sturdy wooden furniture, and everything neatly arranged. It resembled more of an austere old man’s room than a child’s.
The boy reading alone looked up slowly. It was Benjamin Preston.
As the boy noticed Windsor, he jumped up from his seat with a tense expression. The book he had been about to place on the table fell to the floor.
The boy’s round eyes widened for a moment before dimming with dejection. He bit his lower lip and picked up the fallen book, placing it back on the table.
Was he six years old, was it?
With shorts, white stockings, and suspenders, Benjamin appeared much more dignified than his peers. He politely greeted Windsor.
“Good afternoon, Father. I was reading a book.”
“This is Jacqueline Somerset, the one we discussed this morning. She’ll be your new governess. Say hello.”
Benjamin’s gaze shifted slightly. Only then did Jacqueline, who had just entered the room, make eye contact with the boy and reflexively smile.
Benjamin was an endearing child, as if he had just stepped out of a fairy tale book. Perhaps even more so than Jacqueline’s beloved teddy bear, Colin.
His curly hair resembled red cotton candy, and his brown eyes were like shiny beads.
His chubby cheeks looked as if they were holding candy, and faint freckles dotted his nose bridge, visible upon closer inspection.
Benjamin quickly brought his right foot next to his left with a thud, his hands never leaving his thighs.
Before Jacqueline’s eyes widened, the boy spoke first.
“Pleased to meet you, I’m Benjamin Preston. Please take care of me, Miss Somerset.”
…
The greeting was impeccable. It seemed like Jeffrey Preston, or perhaps Windsor Preston, had paid considerable attention to his education.
However, Jacqueline couldn’t help but feel perplexed.
Glancing from the expressionless faces and tense demeanor to the stiff gaze, Jacqueline turned her gaze towards Windsor.
“What’s wrong, Miss Somerset?”
Despite the clear question, his tone lacked any inflection. The man seemed oblivious to what the issue might be.
“It’s nothing, Lord Preston.”
With a trembling nod, Jacqueline took a step back. She didn’t bother to look back at the scrutinizing gaze behind her. Instead, she walked straight towards Benjamin.
Kneeling down beside him, she whispered affectionately, “Hi, Benjamin. I’m Jacqueline Somerset. You can also call me Jackie if you’d like. My friends call me that.”
“He’s the next Viscount Preston. It would be best to maintain proper decorum, Miss Somerset.”
Straightaway, a stern voice cut through the air. Instantly, Jacqueline and Benjamin’s eyes met.
At the mention of being the next Viscount Preston, Benjamin straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and pressed his lips together, resembling a miniature soldier.
From an angle unseen by Windsor behind them, Jacqueline grimaced. It was a comical expression, like biting into a sour lemon, but Benjamin didn’t smile.
Huh, strange?
Whenever she made such expressions, her peers would forget their ladylike manners and burst into laughter. Even the strictest dormitory prefects would soften, forgiving her with a warning.
Blinking rapidly, Jacqueline rose gracefully from her seat without a word.
“Be cautious, Lord Preston.”
“I understand Miss Somerset is your first governess. Report to me with a one-month curriculum before dinner tonight.”
“By tonight…?”
Jacqueline widened her eyes and looked at him. Windsor asked in a dry tone,
“Is that impossible?”
She glanced at Benjamin, wearing a pitiful expression, like an innocent lamb persecuted by a fierce lion.
But Benjamin didn’t smile this time either. Jacqueline turned her head with a sheepish smile.
“No, it’s possible. I’ll have the curriculum ready before dinner tonight.”
Windsor simply nodded and left the room. As the rhythmic sound of his footsteps on the carpet faded away, Jacqueline finally relaxed her tense shoulders with a sigh.
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