Cimmerian Shade

Chapter 8

A/N -Feeling a bit better now! Sorry for the wait! Please don't forget to comment! :)

“Pride and Poverty don’t get along, but often live together”-Proverb

She hated him. The man was impossible to work for, and that was proven by their constant arguments. After having her breakfast in silence and needless to say, boredom, she reported straight away to the study that Godfrey had led her to, and waited for the duke to acknowledge her presence. She sat across from him on a chair so large that her toes barely reached the floor, and was silently, patiently waiting. He went through his papers one by one, making notes on some of them and passing over others. Not once did he instruct her on any of her duties, or ask for assistance.

Alla was becoming irritated. She would much rather have gone for a walk, or to see Breanne, or William, for that matter. Anything would have sufficed other than watching and waiting for the duke to notice that she was alive, and breathing, before his very holy presence. She finally decided to try and make the most of it. She took in his features. His unshaven face brought a slight edge to his whole presence, not that he needed the edge, of course. She had to concede that the victory belonged to Breanne. He was the most beautiful person she had seen, though his personality left much to be desired. Maybe she wouldn’t have to concede much after all. It was as she said. He might be a beautiful piece of puzzle wood, but he was just a piece nonetheless. Alla began twiddling her thumbs, finally bored with inspecting the duke.

She cleared her throat, and was ready to ask if she could assist him in any way when he glanced up at her. “Kindly refrain from making that infernal racket. It’s distracting,” he censured before returning his attention back to his paperwork. “It’s also a bad habit of yours, one of many I assume.”

Alla looked at him in disbelief. Did he really just lecture her because she cleared her throat? “I assume that you need to acquire more friends than a butler,” she mumbled under her breath.

An instant slamming noise caused her head to jerk up and she saw that the duke was leveling her with a glare. The area near his jaw began to tic. “Pardon?”

“It is quite clear to me that you have been speaking with Godfrey,” she explained mildly. The man really needed to calm down. “I was only trying to explain to you that—“

“That is enough!”

Alla’s mouth snapped closed. Then she opened it once more. “You are not going to keep many people around you speaking in such a way!”

Brandon slowly came to his feet, and braced his large hands on either side of the desk. “You,” he growled, “are an impertinent bag of goods. Do not think that because I sent for you to come and work for me, I’ll not send you back. T’would be a mistake, that,” he sternly warned. When he saw her glance down at her hands, he nodded in satisfaction. The chit needed to be drained of her insolence, and he would either teach her how to behave, or send her back to where she came from.

Alla remained quiet as he slowly lowered himself into his chair, watching her. Her expression appeared peaceful, serene. Good, he thought, and turned his attention back to his work.

Alla’s blood was simmering, again. She thought that she was respectful, even though the duke made it difficult. Why am I even here?

“It’s a waste of time,” she mumbled.

Brandon set his pen down with a little more force than necessary, clearly agitated. “Do you have something to say to me?” The little baggage was becoming a nuisance.

Alla began twirling the hair next to her neck. “I only want to be of assistance to you,” she began, motioning towards his desk with her hand. “It really doesn’t make much sense to keep me in here only to stare and wait for you. If you find that you have no need for me at the moment I would be happy to search out William, or—“