Battle of intentions

Prologue

He stared at me with big brown orbs, my heart faltered. How could anyone be so precious? An overwhelming feeling of sadness surrounded the room. I stepped back from the cradle. A seemingly old lady scrutinised me with eerie eyes, I fumbled with my fingers not sure if I had overstepped any boundary. I had not meant to look at the child before I had been given the go ahead. I couldn't help but look over at the little being that had chanted a whole lot of gibberish. He was adorable, absolutely adorable.

"Do not touch him."

"I did not." I replied quickly. "I apologise ma'am."

"You're the slave from the Gallagher plantation?" She sat down, putting one leg on top of the other. I remained standing, she had not offered me a seat. I knew well enough she wouldn't. A young woman whom I had learnt was called Beatrice then laid a cup of tea on the table. Standing beside the old lady, she gave me a warm smile at which I returned.

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's your grace, you're to address me as your grace."

"I'm sorry!" I added.

"I understand you come from the rural plots where you hardly know any royalty terms but this is London. My husband was indeed the Duke of Winchester, may his soul rest in peace." She mumbled the last part.

Still confused, nevertheless I nodded.

"That makes me a duchess." She added. "Therefore duchess equals your grace."

I nodded not wanting to say any wrong.

"I'm sure you're aware of the news... my son lost his wife during childbirth. It has been an awful month for our family."

"Very sorry to hear that your grace."

Ignoring my condolences, she looked down at the carpet before speaking once more. "I hear you're good with children?"

"I absolutely adore them."

She watched me closely, I could see her eyes judging me discreetly. I smiled nervously, the Gallaghers were wealthy but not this wealthy. My eyes looked around the high ceilings and display of extravagant lavish furnishings all around. Each and every painting caught my eye. Lady Martha had made it clear to me that the Armstrong's had close ties with the royal family therefore I had to be on my best behaviour. A feeling of sadness overwhelmed me, this was it? I'd never see my family again. This was my new home? I'd reside here. Work here until when? I already feared for myself with the coldness the lady of the house welcomed me with. It had been a long journey.

"Well, only time will tell. Beatrice here will accompany you to your room. Right next to Lewis room because he will need your constant attention. You're to treat my grandson like your own in every aspect." She let out a sigh. "Do not bother my son, he isn't too happy or accepting of Lewis just yet."

"It's his son?" I mumbled under my breath a little shocked.

"Yes, but he lost his wife. A child is the least of his worries right now. It's best we allow him to lick his wounds, he should come around soon enough. Not that it is any of your business. Yours is to take good care of Lewis, that is all."

Suddenly Lewis let out a low-pitched rhythmic repetitive cry. Out of instinct, I rushed to his aid. Before lifting him up from his cradle I looked back. "May I?" The old lady nodded, allowing me to go ahead. He was so tiny and precious. Something told me, I'd easily fall in love with the little infant. In the comfort of my arms, he immediately kept quiet. Eyeing me closely with beady eyes. His little chubby arms stagnant as if waiting for my reaction.

"Hello Lewis, I'm Nora." I muttered lowly.