The Devil is The Duke

Nancy drove up to the imposing manor and packed in front. She turned off the engine and turned to Emeera. “Emeera I know you are in desperate need of a job but are you sure you want this particular job? It’s not too late to turn back and run.” The girls laughed.

“I am sure I want this job. But thanks for the advice.”

“If you run now I promise not to judge and nobody will know.”

“I want to work, Nancy. I am certain I have to start here,” Emeera said and hugged her friend. “See you at home. I’ll come back with stories every night and I will be fine,” Emeera said. Nancy shrugged like she did not believe a word of that.

Once Emeera stepped in, she was led to the ground floor dining hall. Everyone sat around the dining table – Alfred, the Duke of Savoy, Emeera and Mr. George, the Duke’s attorney. She was passed her contract of employment to sign. Emeera’s hands shook a bit as she signed, but she was done before anyone noticed. After signing, the lawyer shook hands with them and withdraw.

“Ms. Charles, I formally welcome you to my home.” He extended his hand and Emeera shook it. His grip was tight. Then slowly, he released her hand. She kept her eyes steady on his brown eyes. “My long time head maid, Mrs. Fletcher will show you…” as if she knew she was being summoned, Mrs. Fletcher, a thin woman with grey hair, entered the room and stood at the other end of the massive table. She gave a little curtsy to Alfred and threw a thin smile in Emeera’s direction.

“Mrs. Fletcher, this is Ms. Emeera Charles, our new manor manager. She is in charge of the staff and contractors,” The Duke said. “Ms. Charles, meet the efficient Mrs. Fletcher who has dexterously manned the Savoy Manor since my father’s time,” the Duke declared.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“You flatter me your grace,” Mrs. Fletcher said with another little curtsey; she was obviously happy with the compliments. Emeera could swear she saw a tinge of pink on the wrinkled cheeks.

“So please show her to her rooms and guide her till she has familiarized herself at least with all that is needed to run this place.”

“I shall do that, your grace,” she responded. It was all still strange to Emeera who was not used to being in constant close proximity with the gentry. She could not imagine calling this man your Grace and curtseying at every point she ran into him. With her ancestors from the middle East, she was still a stranger to the European culture of the gentry. But everyone in the duchy of Savoy made it look so natural. Plus, the duke had an awe-inspiring physique; tall and muscular, his bearing commanded respect. Emeera thought if respect was all he would want from her, she would gladly give that to him. She shuddered to think of him demanding more.

Mrs. Fletcher took her up to the second floor, talking as she went. “All the servants sleep on the ground floor. But you are the house manager so you get to sleep up here with the family. But it was not always so, when the Duke’s father was alive, the house manager had to sleep in a room on the ground floor with the other servants. His Grace thought it better to have the house manager up here in order to have him at his beck and call at all times and for other kinds of emergency.”

“Was the last manor manager a man?”

“They have always been. You are the first female manager in the Savoy Manor.”

“So What happened? where did the last one go?”

“I cannot say. But this I can say, if you want to last here, you have to learn to mind your business.”

They arrived at a door which Mrs. Fletcher opened with a beautiful key. Together, they entered the room and Emeera gasped. The room was not a room at all but a suite with the fanciest bedroom Emeera had ever seen. Everything was pure luxury. The bed was laid with shiny white silk, the curtains were made of white linens. The whole room was immaculate white like nobody had been there before. Surely this was a mistake, Emeera thought. Or maybe they were here to do something before going to her room. She could not bring herself to think, she could not dare hope that this suite that overlooked a beautiful pond and gardens could be her room. Surely, this was not where any house manager slept in. Not that majestic looking bed and the soft, white, Arabian rug.

“Mrs. Fletcher, what about my room?” Emeera asked in a tiny voice she did not recognize as hers.

“This is the room,” Mrs. Fletcher said as she rearranged throw pillows that looked perfectly arranged to Emeera. Even the couch that held all the throw pillows was white.

“But this looks like… I don’t understand. Is this the room the previous housekeeper slept in?” Mrs. Fletcher turned.

“Ms. Charles I think it is imperative that I warn you again to mind your business if you want to meet a good end in this house,” she said sharply. But softened immediately after saying that. “If you must know, the last manager did not sleep here. He slept on this floor, but the room is the first after the staircase. This used to be the Duke’s wife’s room.”

“What happened to her?” Emeera asked before she could stop herself.

“She died. Nobody used it for many years. One day, His Grace opened the doors and said the room must be occupied to preserve it. Since then, we have cleaned it everyday and laid a new bedsheet every other day.”

“Then why give it to me? When he remarries-”

Mrs. Fletcher scoffed. “Marry? His Grace has sworn off matrimony. The grief from losing his wife took his mind. Anyway, it is done now. The mistress suite is finally open to the public.” She looked at Emeera like she was unfit to even stand in the room. “I shall be down overseeing dinner. Send for me if you need anything.” She swept out of the room, leaving Emeera there.

Emeera did not know how long she stood by the window watching birds by the pond. She thought of home far away in the deserts; home that looked like another world ago. The last time she saw those Middle Eastern sand dunes, she was a child and her mother had just died. She could not remember much, not even her mother’s face. She snapped out of the depressing thoughts and focused her eyes on the birds. She needed to return to Nancy. This strange house did not feel like home. And she had no clothes as she had assumed she was going to be a day worker.

“What are you thinking of?” a voice asked, causing Emeera to jump. But it was only the Duke.

“Your Grace. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in.” she curtseyed and kept her face down to hide her tears.

“Do you like the room?” he asked.

“Of course my Lord. Sorry, your Grace. I like it very much.”

He looked around and walked to the balcony with Emeera following closely behind him. “Mrs. Fletcher must have told you this once belonged to the Lady of Savoy,” he said. His eyes shut tightly for a second like he wanted to hide his pain.

“She did.”

They were back in the room. Emeera closed the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony. Alfred walked to the head of the bed. “I wanted you to know who this room belonged to, so this door wouldn’t seem strange to you.” He tapped on the glass wall and pushed it. To her surprise, what she thought was an opaque glass wall was actually a door. The door glided open to reveal a large master bedroom. His room and her room was divided by a glass door. The master bedroom was a sharp contrast to her feminine room. Everything there was black and gold and masculine. Even the fragrance smelled like a jungle. The room was dark with heavy black and gold curtains covering every window while her own room was the sunniest room in the house. In her room, the floor to ceiling glass windows were barely covered. Her room looked like it would allow even the moonlight in at night. She could imagine the silver moonlight on all the white in her room. Suddenly she felt so exposed. It was obvious the occupant of the master bedroom preferred the night and dark.

Then a thought struck. Nancy had told her the man was a playboy, and now he wanted her in a room that was separated from his own by only a glass. The entire household must be agog with stories.

“Your Grace, how many of your servants know of this door?”

“None. I had it fixed by a discreet company during the my first general renovations. The servants were all gone the week we did it. It was some months before my wedding,” he said.

“Mrs. Fletcher doesn’t know?” Emeera asked.

“Nobody knows. Your chastity will not be questioned on my account, dear Ms. Charles,” he said as he sauntered into the room. Emeera felt blood rush to her face.

“I have a request, your Grace. May I continue to live at home while working here?”

“No, you may not. I have a manor that needs round the clock attention. If I need your services at midnight, I expect you to make yourself -body, mind and soul, available to me…” the last statement caused a reaction in Emeera that the Duke caught. “And why do you look horrified? Trust me Ms. Charles, if I meant that kind of service, you would be the last woman on my mind. I hired you because you are not my type,” he said and closed the glass door from his room, leaving Emeera staring at her reflection in the glass, too stunned to speak.