majesty || h.s. short story.

1803, England.

Miss Dowding- Josephine, to those who know her close- is arranged to be the governess for the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland; their eldest daughter and youngest daughter require training and help with schooling. It is a task that Josephine finds opportunistic to remove her from the fleeting situation of her current life.

She is thrilled to be thrown into such a responsibility for the nobles above her, hoping that her past will not follow. Once she has moved into the castle, her quarters are not much, but they are enough for her smile to stay consistent on her face at the work she is now over-seeing.

In an instant, after being invited to a supper with the family, she is thrown into meeting the eldest son of the Duke and Duchess once he has returned from battle: Marquess Styles of Havenbrook, the rowdy and completely unstable Lord throughout the land, who has seen down every corset and left a grudge at every move he's made.

His presence is always known around the manor; his mouth is curt with remarks that make Josephine's heart flutter with uncertainty. His eyes stare at her across the long dining table in the evenings, Josephine feels an inadequate level of breathing when she senses Lord Styles' stares. She knows not to say a word, but her constant uneasiness around the man feels like a hand around her neck.

She doesn't understand the invisible grip he has on her- the way she aches to understand how he can stare at her in such a way and not make a single remark. Josephine is meek, a bit timid around the royals for her own safety. Lord Styles cannot help but stare at the way her collarbones simply pop from above her corseted top.

Josephine cannot help but lay in bed at night and wonder- is the noise outside her door just the creaks and sounds of the castle?

Or... maybe she should take a moment to open the door to reveal the truth of the noise beyond it?