Chapter 3
The man in front of her was undoubtedly Duke Clavern, the one who had hired Eleanor. After quickly grasping the situation, Eleanor hastily greeted Logan. However, Logan’s blue eyes, tinged with the crimson glow of the lamp, held a questioning look as if trying to place who she was.
“I’m Eleanor Hudson, employed as Miss Olivia’s governess.”
“Ah, Miss Hudson. An unexpected meeting… but a pleasure. I’m Logan Clavern.”
Despite the disheveled state of his younger sister, Logan paid it no mind, gently smoothing her hair and placing a soft kiss on her temple to soothe her.
“It’s alright now, Olivia. Don’t cry.”
“Logan… Logannn…”
Olivia clung to Logan’s neck with her tiny arms, still sniffling.
“I wasn’t feeling well, so I went out for a walk, and I heard a noise in the garden. That’s where I found Miss Olivia.”
Fearing he might think she had harmed Olivia, Eleanor hurried to explain.
“Olivia often sneaks out without the servants noticing. Don’t worry—I understand.”
Logan shook his head and brushed back Olivia’s tangled hair behind her ear. Her fine, sweat-dampened hair refused to be easily tidied, even under his thick fingers—that was the best he could do.
“Has Mother gone out?”
“Yes, she hasn’t returned yet.”
Noticing the master’s arrival, the butler George quickly ran out and answered the question. Eleanor, sharp as ever, noticed that something about the situation was different from what she’d been told.
“You left Olivia alone in her room?”
“…Yes.”
George answered cautiously. Logan’s brow furrowed in displeasure.
“Then you haven’t even seen Miss Hudson’s face yet.”
“She said she would meet her after returning.”
“Of course she did.”
Logan let out a small sigh and muttered sharply. Olivia, who had been crying miserably, now seemed to be dozing off in her brother’s comforting embrace.
“Tell the maids to prepare Olivia’s bathwater.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
George bowed his head in response and retreated. Eleanor, watching the situation quietly, turned to leave—or rather, tried to.
“Miss Hudson.”
“Yes?”
Logan’s quiet voice called her name. Eleanor turned around, surprised, eyes wide.
“I apologize for not properly speaking with you until now.”
“No, Your Grace. I’m not someone important enough to warrant such formality.”
Eleanor responded with a polite smile.
“A governess to Olivia deserves that courtesy.”
The response was unexpected. His voice was firm, not allowing her to belittle herself. It was clear Logan truly cared for his much younger sister.
“Please get in the car for now. We’ll leave Olivia to the maids and have a talk.”
Eleanor wanted to avoid being in a confined space with her employer, but she had no valid reason to refuse. Cautiously, she followed Logan into the carriage. While adjusting her skirts, she glanced at Logan, who still comforted the sleeping Olivia resting on his shoulder.
Considering he was a soldier familiar with strict hierarchies and had a sharp appearance, it was quite an odd sight. It contrasted with the faint, spicy scent he gave off. Yet, Logan seemed quite used to calming the child.
“Have the maids bathe and put Olivia to bed. Watch her until she falls asleep, in case she tries to run off again.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“And prepare some tea for Miss Hudson and me.”
As they entered the mansion, Logan removed his jacket and slung it over his arm. Although he was in a position where giving orders came naturally, he chose to phrase his request politely. It didn’t match the stereotype Eleanor had imagined.
“This way, Miss Hudson.”
Logan opened the parlor door and gestured with his eyes. Eleanor quickly followed.
“Apologies for the delayed conversation.”
It was the second apology. She had expected him to overwhelm her with authority, but he hadn’t. It almost made her feel guilty for the misunderstanding. Logan gestured toward a seat. After sitting, he loosened his tie and rolled up the cuffs of his shirt.
The atmosphere had relaxed a bit, but his sleeves still revealed taut muscles and prominent veins across his hands and wrists.
He was a kind of man Eleanor had never encountered before. A strange tension filled the air.
“I’m truly fine, Your Grace.”
Eleanor swallowed hard. The chair she sat on felt like a bed of nails. Just then, a maid entered with a teapot and cups.
“Thank you.”
Eleanor thanked her and carefully lifted her teacup. Her movements were so light they made no sound. Logan’s gaze followed her with quiet curiosity.
“I imagine Olivia’s sudden appearance startled you.”
Logan began calmly. Since Olivia was said to be out with Cindy, her appearance had been surprising. Eleanor didn’t deny she’d been flustered.
“I’m not sure if you accepted the job knowing or not, but either way, you’ll learn soon enough, so I won’t hide it. Olivia is… a little different from others.”
Logan’s quiet words made Eleanor blink. She hadn’t expected that. Thanks to a recommendation from her long-time friend Lily from the Earl of Billwood’s family, she’d secured the position but knew almost nothing about Olivia other than her age, gender, and frail health.
“My mother finds this fact deeply shameful.”
In Reden, disability existed—but society erased it. Among noble families who prided themselves on their lineage, it was even worse. Many would starve or beat their own children behind closed walls.
“She seems to be planning to marry Olivia off to just anyone once she’s of age…”
Logan sighed softly.
“I’m not looking for a governess who just teaches her what fan gestures mean in society.”
Cindy Clavern was Logan’s stepmother. The previous Duke had died in an accident. Olivia was Logan’s sister but Cindy’s biological daughter—only a half-sister.
“I’ve heard that although Olivia seems dull at times, she has strong focus when something interests her.”
He implied he didn’t have the time or reason to care deeply, but he still knew these details.
“My mother handled the hiring, so I don’t know what kind of person you are, Miss Hudson. But I hope you’re someone who won’t dismiss Olivia, and instead, will discover what she’s interested in and teach her.”
It was clear Logan truly cared for Olivia as a real sister.
“If you don’t think you can teach Olivia, feel free to leave now. We won’t blame you—we should’ve informed you in advance. I promise, no harm will come to you.”
This was a test. He was gauging Eleanor’s reaction to the truth about Olivia, ready to reject her if she didn’t meet his standards. Even if Cindy Clavern had hired her, the true master of the estate was Logan Clavern.
“Just remember—Clavern ears are everywhere.”
Logan leaned his elbow on the armrest and gave a small smile. Goosebumps pricked Eleanor’s skin. Only his lips were smiling; his eyes were cold. Though he said no more, Eleanor understood the unspoken warning.
“I don’t want to hear any malicious rumors about Olivia escaping the Clavern estate walls.”
It was a sharp warning—should she ever expose his sister’s secret and make her a subject of ridicule, he wouldn’t stand for it.
The oppressive pressure she’d felt upon first meeting Logan returned, and Eleanor’s heart dropped. Even though she had no intention of gossiping, the warning unsettled her.
“I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with Miss Olivia.”
Still, this wasn’t a moment to appear intimidated. Eleanor straightened her back and spoke. She had her reasons for needing to work at the Clavern estate.
Besides, Olivia’s possible disability wasn’t a reason not to teach her. If she truly was disabled, Eleanor wanted even more to be her teacher. It reminded her of a sibling she’d lost years ago.
“I don’t think Miss Olivia is any different from anyone else. Even if I’m dismissed because I’m not suited for this position, I won’t speak falsely about her.”
Logan tilted his head slightly, as if trying to read her true intentions. Eleanor felt like a rabbit sitting before a lion, waiting for him to speak.
“Mother may not have intended this, but it seems she’s found a good teacher for Olivia. Please take good care of her.”
Success. Eleanor swallowed her sigh of relief.
“Thank you for trusting me. I’ll do my best.”
Eleanor declared her resolve in the calmest voice she could manage.
“You may go.”
Logan gave her a single nod, indicating she could leave. Eleanor bowed to her true employer and quietly stepped out.
“Ha…”
As soon as the door closed, a sigh escaped her lips. But her heart still raced.
Logan was a gentleman. He wasn’t rude or aggressive toward women. But Eleanor wasn’t so naïve as to miss his indirect message: she would have to earn his trust through her actions.
Unlike Charles, who broke things and swore when drunk, Logan knew how to deliver a warning with elegance. That made him even more terrifying.
Thinking so, Eleanor took one last look at the parlor—then practically fled up the stairs.
Hm. I had to read the middle bit twice because I was so confused. They talked about going in a car/carriage, but then went inside?