The Duke's Marriage Mission (15 page)

They enjoyed a surprisingly congenial meal. Hayden regaled his sister with a detailed account of Kit’s studies, while she inquired about Miss Shaw’s teaching methods. Hayden found that having an excuse to talk about his son’s governess raised his spirits.

After dinner they retired to the drawing room and continued their conversation.

“I did hope Miss Shaw would have done more to get Kit out of that stifling nursery,” Althea observed at last. “She seemed quite committed to it when I hired her.”

Hayden felt compelled to defend Leah Shaw. “No one could have been more enthusiastic in their efforts. The blame rests entirely with me, but she has made progress. I have assured her that once spring comes we can begin to bring Kit out.”

“I hope you will.” Althea sounded doubtful that he would follow through on his promise. “I am certain it will do the dear child a world of good.”

Having witnessed the improvement in Kit’s health and spirits over the past months, Hayden could not disagree. Yet when he thought of the perils that might come with increased freedom, his neck linen seemed to tighten around his throat, making it difficult to breathe.

“I have one more piece of advice for you,” his sister continued, “since you appear to be more receptive than usual.”

In the interest of family harmony, Hayden ignored the dig. “What might that be?”

Althea gave a self-satisfied little smile. “If you have any sense at all—and I know you have more than is good for any one man—you will do whatever it takes to keep this remarkable Miss Shaw at Renforth Abbey.”

His sister’s words reminded Hayden that the term of Leah Shaw’s position would soon be half over. There was no question Kit had missed her very much since she’d gone on holiday. How might it affect the boy to lose his beloved governess permanently?

But what would it take to keep the lady at Renforth Abbey for as long as Kit needed her?

Chapter Nine

C
onflicting feelings clashed in Leah’s heart when she caught sight of Renforth Abbey again after a fortnight away. The sprawling, stately house looked as grand as when she had first glimpsed it in high summer. Indeed, with the ornamental waters frozen, the broad lawns crusted with snow and icicles sparkling on the turrets, the place reminded her of an austere beauty decked in white silk, lace and diamonds for her wedding.

Though it looked striking, the winter scene reminded her of the long dark days ahead. She would be all but buried alive on this secluded estate with no company but her invalid pupil and his solitary father.

Somehow thoughts of the duke and his son kept her from feeling quite so confined. She’d missed them in a way she had not missed anyone since taking leave of her school friends to make her way in the world. She was eager to see Kit’s new playthings and tell him all about her holiday. She hoped Lord Northam had not exhausted himself caring for the boy during her absence.

She was touched that he had thought to send a carriage to the village to fetch her. Her return to Renforth Abbey promised a much warmer reception than her original arrival. As the carriage drew nearer to the house, she glanced toward the nursery window, where a splash of cheerful bright pink caught her eye. As she puzzled over what it might be, she caught a flash of movement. It took her a moment to recognize two faces staring down at her and a hand waving in wide vigorous arcs.

The duke must have held his son up to the window to watch for and welcome her. In spite of his fears that Kit might fall or take a chill, he had risked allowing the boy a rare taste of freedom for her sake. A warm smile set Leah’s whole face aglow and made an unaccountable lump rise in her throat. Though she doubted Kit could see her, she waved back just as eagerly.

When the carriage reached the front entrance, Leah was flattered to find the household staff assembled outside to greet her. Some cast her smiles of welcome, while others clearly resented the imposition.

“What is all this?” she protested to the butler, her cheeks blazing with embarrassment. “You should not be standing out in the cold, especially not on my account. I am not a guest at Renforth Abbey.”

“His Grace’s orders, Miss Shaw.” Gibson bowed to her, at which point the footmen and Lord Northam’s valet followed suit and all the maids curtsied. “To celebrate your return. The young master has been counting the days.”

“That is very kind, I’m sure.” Leah waved them all toward the door. “But you must get out of the cold at once.”

“After you, miss,” replied the butler.

Though she considered it ridiculous to precede the others when she was dressed for the weather and they were not, Leah hurried inside so the servants would follow without delay. From there she hastened upstairs to the nursery, removing her bonnet and gloves as she went. When she spotted a gilt-framed mirror on the wall of the nursery corridor, she paused to smooth her hair and approve the rosy color the winter air had nipped into her cheeks.

Upon reaching the nursery, she paused to tap on the door before entering. If Lord Northam was still holding his son at the window or carrying Kit back to his bed, she did not want to burst in and startle them.

“Is that you, Miss Leah?” Kit’s eager cry penetrated the door. His voice sounded stronger than she remembered. “Come in!”

She was only too happy to oblige. Entering the room, she found the duke tucking his son back into bed. The sight of them both provoked a rush of happiness within her, far more intense than she was prepared for.

Clearly her young pupil shared the sentiment. His pale clever face positively blazed with joy at her return. “Welcome home, Miss Leah! Papa took me to the window so I could watch you drive up. Did you see me waving?”

“Indeed I did, though I could scarcely believe my eyes.” Leah flew to his bedside just as the duke straightened and turned toward her.

Something about his weary but welcoming smile made it difficult for her to breathe, suddenly. She managed to arrest her headlong flight far too close to His Grace. He raised his arms, making her wonder whether he intended to ward her off or enfold her in a welcoming embrace.

Instead, Lord Northam gave an awkward chuckle as he thrust out his hand. Grasping hers, he shook it cordially, though with rather excessive force. “Your return is most welcome, Miss Shaw. My son has been counting the days until your arrival. We have used it to practice his arithmetic. I hope you had a pleasant journey from Berkshire.”

At the end of his somewhat lengthy greeting, the duke still had Leah’s hand clasped warmly in his, pumping it up and down.

“As pleasant as any long coach ride can be at this time of year,” she replied. “Thank you for sending your carriage to fetch me from the village. It was a delightful surprise and most kind of you.”

When His Grace finally released her hand, as propriety demanded, Leah wished she could find some excuse to prolong the contact between them.

“It was no inconvenience.” Lord Northam stared into her eyes as if his had been starved for the sight of her. “The coachman was happy to have some occupation. I may have to send you on drives to the village and back just to keep him in good humor.”

Leah chuckled. She had missed the duke’s wry wit.

Before she could reply, Kit piped up, “Pardon me.”

He sounded a trifle vexed that the adults seemed to have forgotten him. “Did you see the banner we hung for you, Miss Leah? Papa helped me make it.”

Leah forced her gaze away from the duke to his son, then to the window. An expanse of bright pink fabric hung from the top of the curtains. A message of welcome had been printed in yellow paint, surrounded by simple shapes of flowers in other vivid hues. She was surprised it had not drawn her gaze the moment she entered the room.

“What a neat job you made of it and what pretty colors!” She moved closer to the window to get a better look at the banner. “Never in my life have I had such a fuss made over my comings and goings. Thank you, both!”

Kit and his father seemed gratified by her response to their efforts.

“Consider it an attempt to make up for your original reception at Renforth Abbey,” said the duke. “It ought to have been warmer. If I could have foreseen your invaluable contribution to Kit’s well-being, I would have made you welcome from the beginning.”

Was His Grace trying to say he wanted to make a fresh start, without his earlier resistance to her efforts? If so she would be happy to accept.

“Tell us about your holiday, Miss Leah.” Kit patted the bed beside him, inviting her to occupy her accustomed spot. “What did you do at Nethercross to celebrate Christmas?”

“A great many things.” Leah deposited her gloves and bonnet on Kit’s writing table then settled on the bed beside him. “Practically the moment I arrived, Charlotte, Phoebe and Sophie recruited me to go collect greenery with them to construct a kissing bough.”

“Kissing bough?” Kit wrinkled his nose. “What is that and how do you make one?”

Leah cast the duke a rather reproachful glance as if to inquire how it would have harmed the boy to experience such Christmas traditions. She explained to Kit how evergreen boughs were wired into a spherical framework then decked with ribbons, fruit and other festive trimmings.

“It sounds very pretty,” said Kit. “But what does it have to do with kissing?”

“It is a Christmas tradition. If a man and woman meet up beneath the bough, they are obliged to exchange a kiss.” As she spoke, Leah found her gaze drawn toward Lord Northam, who stood before the mantel watching them.

For reasons she could not fathom, he looked quite severe.

Leah turned her attention back to Kit. “We entertained carolers on Christmas Eve, and attended lots of lovely church services. Lord Steadwell gave a party on Boxing Day for his tenants and neighbors. Later in the week we were invited to an assembly hosted by their neighbors, Admiral and Mrs. DeLancey.”

Kit heaved a sigh. “I wish I could have gone with you to Nethercross for Christmas.”

Again Leah’s gaze flew to the duke. His son’s words made him wince. She sensed how torn he was between thoughts of Kit celebrating such a merry Christmas and fears of the boy becoming overtired or contracting an illness.

Determined not let Kit fall into a destructive spiral of self-pity, Leah replied in as bright a tone as she could muster. “I am certain the Kendrick girls wished that, too. They plagued me with questions about you—Sophie in particular. She is nearly your age and a great lover of fairy tales. She has read
Gulliver’s Travels
, and when I told her all about your Lilliputian figures, she was quite envious.”

“
She
wanted to know about me?” The thought seemed to rescue Kit from his sulk before it had properly begun. “Tell me more about Sophie. What does she look like? What does she like to do besides read fairy tales?”

Leah exchanged a covert smile with the duke, who relaxed visibly. “Sophie is a little taller than you. She is the youngest of Lord Steadwell’s daughters. She has lovely red-gold hair and blue eyes and she has a terrific imagination. She likes to write her own stories and draw pictures of the characters. She likes to dress up in old clothes and put on theatricals.”

“I wish she lived nearer, so she could visit me,” Kit mused. “I would let her play with my little people all she liked.”

“As a matter of fact, Sophie said the same thing about you. So I suggested she write you a letter, which she promptly did. Shall I fetch it for you to read?”

If she had brought a chest of gold and jewels from Nethercross, Leah doubted Kit would have been more excited. The duke did nothing to discourage his son’s enthusiasm. At the boy’s eager bidding, Leah hurried away and returned bearing Sophie’s letter. Kit opened it with great ceremony and proudly read it aloud to her and his father. He exclaimed over a self-portrait Sophie had enclosed, insisting it must be framed and hung where he could see it.

“I believe Sophie would like it very much if you wrote back to her,” Leah suggested. “Would you like to begin writing a letter of reply tomorrow?”

She was anxious for Kit to make the acquaintance of someone his own age, even if it was only by post. Besides it would provide her young pupil useful practice with his reading and writing.

Kit did not greet her suggestion with the enthusiasm she expected. Instead his smile faltered and his shoulders sagged. “What will I have to tell her? I never go anywhere or do anything exciting.”

Leah thought for a moment. When she replied, her words were addressed to the child, but also to his father. “Perhaps we shall have to do something about that.”

* * *

The excitement of his governess’s return seemed to tire Kit out, making it easier to get him settled for the night. That pleased Hayden, for it meant he would be able to dine with Leah Shaw. It seemed like a very long time since he had enjoyed the pleasure of her company and conversation.

“I am glad to hear you had such a fine holiday visiting your friend,” he remarked as he held her chair. “I hope all that activity did not tire you out.”

Miss Shaw gave a soft chuckle. “To be quite truthful, it did rather, trying to keep up with three energetic girls wanting to go in all different directions. There was never a dull moment.”

Hayden took his accustomed seat opposite her. “I hope Renforth Abbey will not seem tiresome after all the festivity of Nethercross. Pray tell me more about your holiday. Did the Steadwells have any other guests to stay for Christmas?”

Leah Shaw shook her head as the soup course was served. “Grace has no relatives but a stepfamily, from whom she has long been estranged. Her husband’s sisters have homes and families of their own.”

Hayden tried not to show how relieved he was to hear it. Her explanation of the kissing bough ritual had made him wonder if she was speaking from experience. “The parties you attended, I suppose they involved a great deal of dancing.”

She shrugged. “Some. Lord Steadwell and Admiral DeLancey were kind enough to claim a dance or two from me. The other gentlemen did not seem to know how to treat me—as a lady or a servant. The usual dilemma of a governess.”

Though she spoke in a jesting tone Hayden found nothing amusing about it. He did not care to think of her plagued with dance invitations, yet it roused his indignation that she might have been snubbed by Lord Steadwell’s neighbors.

“The loss was theirs entirely,” he growled, “whether or not they possessed the wit to realize it.”

“You are very kind to say so, Your Grace, but not everyone is as blind to social distinctions as you appear to be. Admiral DeLancey reminded me of you in that respect.”

Hayden might have resented Miss Shaw’s admiring observation about another man, but he recalled her mentioning that the admiral was married.

“What else did you do in Berkshire?” he prompted her as their soup bowls were removed and the fish course served.

“Are you not tired of hearing about it?” She gave an indulgent chuckle. “I should have thought the subject had been quite thoroughly explored in the nursery.”

“Not at all.” He enjoyed listening to her, whatever the subject. “Surely there must be a few details my son did not interrogate out of you.”