The Duke's Marriage Mission (3 page)

* * *

What could it hurt? If the matter had not posed such a threat to his son, Hayden might have laughed at Leah Shaw’s preposterous question. He scarcely knew where to begin to enumerate the possible consequences.

At the same time he could not dismiss his suspicion as to why Althea had selected this particular woman. His sister must have thought he would fall under the sway of Leah Shaw’s lively beauty and want to keep her at Renforth Abbey under any circumstances.

As he stared across the table at her, Hayden could not stifle a pang of impatience with himself. This was the first time in years that he had been so conscious of a woman’s appearance. Leah Shaw’s fine dark brows were mobile and expressive, reflecting her changing mood in the blink of an eye. Her lips had a similar mercurial quality, though he sensed their most frequent expression was a winsome smile.

Reminding himself it was not her fault he found her attractive, he strove to moderate his tone. “Miss Shaw, I regret that our acquaintance began with such an unfortunate misunderstanding, entirely the fault of my meddling sister. Althea has been trying to run my life ever since our nursery days. She had no business sending you here without my approval, but you are not to blame for that. Nonetheless, I know what is best for my son. As you have seen, his needs are different from those of other children you may have taught. His health and well-being are my primary concerns. I fear his constitution is too delicate to allow him to undertake a rigorous course of study.”

“Nonsense!” she snapped. “The right sort of teaching need not tax Kit’s constitution. On the contrary, it would provide him with some much-needed diversion. From what I have seen, the worst threat your son faces is being bored to death under your stifling regime.”

What had made him suppose this woman could be reasoned with? No one who would romp about with a frail, disabled child on her back could have any sense worth appealing to. Hayden knew some people, women especially, were motivated by impulse and emotion rather than good judgment. Such people were a danger to themselves and everyone around them. He had seen proof that Leah Shaw was one of those people.

“
I
will decide what is best for my son!” He was not accustomed to being put in his place with such insolence. “Not my sister and certainly not a stranger who never set eyes on Kit until an hour ago.”

When she tried to interrupt, he silenced her with a stern glare. “It is too late in the day for you to leave Renforth, so I will order a room prepared for you. I also intend to pay you half of whatever annual salary my sister promised. That should keep you until you secure a new position.”

“That is generous of you sir, but—”

“I offer this settlement on the condition that you leave Renforth Abbey tomorrow morning without any further fuss and never return. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly clear. However, my silence is not for sale at any price. I appreciate your civility in offering me a bed for the night, but I refuse to look the other way when I am certain you are making a grave mistake, for which your son will pay.”

Her reply left Hayden momentarily speechless. It had never occurred to him that Leah Shaw might reject his offer. Though it vexed him to be thwarted, he could not stifle a flicker of admiration for this infuriating woman that had nothing to do with her attractive looks. In spite of her brief acquaintance with Kit, she must care a great deal about his welfare or she would not decline such handsome compensation.

How could he fault her for that? Yet he dared not follow the perilous course she proposed. Years of caution argued strenuously against it.

“I understand your concern for your son’s well-being.” Leah Shaw continued, clearly determined to have her say, for which she would pay such a high price. “And I commend you for it. But is it necessary to keep your child alive by depriving him of everything that makes life
worth
living? Has he ever looked out that window before today? Has he ever been allowed to leave the confines of that bed, or is it a splendid prison cell?”

Her impassioned words went far beyond mere impertinence. They verged on brutality. Every one struck Hayden a painful blow. But when he tried to rally his defenses and strike back, a traitorous part of him inquired whether some of what was said might be true.

“If I were obliged to endure such a solitary, monotonous existence...” her voice faltered “...I would go mad. I beg you, sir, if you do not consider me suitable, hire someone else to be Kit’s governess. But do not permit your dislike of me to deprive your son of the joy of learning!”

He did not
dis
like her. Hayden bit down hard on his tongue to keep from admitting it. The trouble was, he could easily come to like her
too
well. From there it would be but a short, treacherous step to caring about her opinion of him. That was a weakness he could not afford with his son’s welfare at stake.

“I have heard quite enough!” He cut her off with a slashing motion of his hand. “If you will not accept the compensation I have offered, that is your choice, Miss Shaw. But I will not risk my son’s health on the advice of someone who knows so little of Kit’s situation. Contrary to what you may believe, I love my son with all my heart and I am confident I know what is best for him. Nothing you can say will alter that. Good day and farewell to you!”

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the library, torn between relief and regret that he would never set eyes on Leah Shaw again.

Chapter Two

T
hat infuriating man!

As Leah watched the duke march out of the library, she found herself torn between acute frustration and intense relief. How could he not understand the intolerable conditions to which he was subjecting his young son? It reminded her of her blighted youth at the Pendergast School—the dank, dark rooms, the stultifying routine and stifling conformity. She had rebelled against it by every means she could devise, outrageous humor being the most effective weapon in her arsenal.

If only His Grace would give her a chance, she was confident she could brighten Kit’s life and broaden his horizons, which were even more severely restricted than hers had once been. At least she’d had the stimulation of her studies and the companionship of her friends.

Yet much as she wanted to stay at Renforth Abbey for Kit’s sake, Leah would not be sorry to escape having to deal with his imperious father. Though she had been impressed by the duke’s offer of such liberal compensation, she resented his assumption that she could be bribed into silence over something as vital as the welfare of his child. Since leaving that wretched school, she had never encountered such a stubborn, shortsighted despot!

Scarcely aware of what she was doing, Leah began to rub the palms of her hands against her skirts. No indeed, she did not relish the prospect of constant battles she would have to wage with Lord Northam to get him to ease the restrictions on his son. And yet, she could not deny something about their verbal sparring had stimulated her.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Shaw.” The butler’s voice jolted Leah from her silent fuming. “His Grace informs me you will be staying the night at Renforth. He requested I provide you with tea. Would you care to take it here, or in one of the sitting rooms?”

How many sitting rooms did this house have?

“Here in the library will do very well, thank you, Mr. Gibson.” Leah tried not to let her annoyance with his master affect her courtesy toward the butler.

“As you wish. If you would care to take a seat, I shall return shortly.”

So the duke had paid attention when she told him she was hungry. Leah considered his unexpected gesture of hospitality as she took a moment to appreciate the muted grandeur of her surroundings. Above the lofty bookshelves hung centuries-old portraits in gilt frames. A collection of delicate Oriental vases lined the mantelpiece while a finely crafted table globe stood nearby. Three groups of chairs and sofas occupied different areas of the room without appearing crowded in the least.

After a good look around, Leah took a seat on one of the brocade armchairs clustered around a low table near a tall bank of windows. She had scarcely gotten settled before the butler reappeared, bearing a tea tray.

“I am sorry to hear you were mistaken in thinking you had been engaged as a governess for the young master.” The butler sounded sincerely sympathetic as he offered Leah a bounty of sandwiches, biscuits and cakes that made her mouth water.

“You cannot be half as sorry as I am.” She heaped her plate. “For the boy’s sake, more than mine. I cannot imagine how the poor child bears it, being confined to that bed day after day. How can his father do that to him?”

“I beg your pardon, Miss.” The butler glared down at her. “But you would be wrong to presume His Grace’s actions arise from anything less than the tenderest devotion to his son. He scarcely leaves the young master’s side except to snatch a few hours’ sleep and to attend to the most pressing business of the estate. He spends hour upon hour reading to the boy and amusing him by every means he can contrive.”

The bite of buttery biscuit in Leah’s mouth suddenly lost its flavor, as she chided herself for her harsh rush to judgment. She of all people should understand the willingness to surrender all one’s time and energy in the service of a loved one. But she had done everything in her power to
preserve
her grandmother’s independence, Leah’s conscience protested. She would never have locked Gran away from the world, no matter how much safer that might have been.

“Do you not think the child would benefit from exposure to more varied society and the opportunity to learn?” she asked as much to soothe her self-reproach as anything. “His legs may not be capable of taking him places other children can go, but surely his mind should be allowed to range freely and undertake challenges.”

“There are some in His Grace’s household who would agree with you.” The butler’s solemn expression made it impossible to guess whether he might be among that number. “Certainly Lady Althea has expressed that opinion often.”

“Why does her brother refuse to heed her?” Leah thought she might know the answer even before the butler replied.

The duke’s sister had a very forceful personality and she was clearly accustomed to getting her way by whatever means necessary. Leah resented the way she had been misled and manipulated by her ladyship. Whatever the duke’s faults, at least he was forthright in his opposition.

“Her ladyship was not here the night her nephew was born.” The compulsion to defend his master seemed to get the better of Mr. Gibson’s discretion. “The midwife thought the child was stillborn. But His Grace insisted every possible effort be made to revive his son. He was warned that even if they succeeded, the child might be weak, perhaps a lifelong invalid. His Grace paid them no heed. He has nursed his son through several bouts of illness over the years. He has devoted his life to the child. I believe that gives him the right to decide what is best for his son.”

“I have no doubt His Grace is acting out of concern.” Leah could not stifle a flicker of admiration for the duke. “But I am still convinced he is wrong in this instance.”

The butler looked as if he would have liked to debate the matter further, but realized he had already revealed too much about his master’s private business. “If you do not require anything more, I shall leave you to enjoy your tea, Miss Shaw. Then I will show you to your room.”

After Mr. Gibson had gone, Leah started on her tea. She found her appetite rather blunted by what the butler had told her about Lord Northam and his son. Given their history, perhaps it was not surprising the duke had reacted excessively to her actions in the nursery. If she had not been so impulsive, might His Grace have been more receptive to the possibility of hiring a governess for his son?

By the time the butler returned, Leah’s hunger was appeased but not her conscience. She refrained from making any more critical remarks about the duke as Mr. Gibson led her past many enormous, handsomely decorated rooms. They ascended a different staircase than the one Leah had taken to reach the nursery.

“This will be your room for the night, Miss Shaw,” the butler announced as he opened a door and ushered her in. “I trust you will find it to your satisfaction. Dinner will be served at eight.”

For a moment Leah was too awestruck to reply. She was accustomed to staying in plain, cramped little rooms near the nursery. This airy, elegant chamber, decorated in shades of cream and coral, looked more suited to a princess than a humble governess.

“Will His Grace be dining with me?” She would welcome the opportunity to apologize for not being more careful with his son.

The butler shook his head in a decisive manner that sank her hopes. “His Grace eats in the nursery with his son.”

“Of course.” Leah experienced a sharper stab of disappointment at the news than it merited. “In that case, you need not trouble your staff on my account. I am quite content to take a tray in my room.”

“It will be no trouble,” Mr. Gibson insisted. “The staff will enjoy an opportunity to prepare and serve a proper meal.”

“Very well, then. If you are certain.” Leah glanced toward the window. “Since I will not be staying on at Renforth Abbey, might I look around the house before dinner? I have never visited a place so fine.”

“If you wish.” The butler sounded uncertain whether to treat her as an honored guest or a glorified servant who had just been dismissed.

“I promise I will stay out of the duke’s way,” Leah assured him.

“That should not be difficult,” the butler replied, “provided you keep away from the new range, which houses the nursery and His Grace’s bedchamber.”

“Does he truly spend
all
his time there?” The very thought made Leah feel as if the walls of this spacious room were beginning to close in on her.

The butler nodded. “Except for meetings with the estate overseer and his man of business. And on rare occasions when Lady Althea pays a visit.”

“Poor man.” The words rose instinctively to Leah’s lips, though she reminded herself it was the duke’s choice to live that way.

After Mr. Gibson departed, she set off to explore the house. As she strolled from one grand room to another, all so rich in history, Leah found herself with many questions she wished she could ask someone. Which artist had painted the imposing portrait of a gentleman on horseback that hung above the mantel in the blue drawing room? What was the story behind the magnificent tapestries in the great hall? Had the house originally been a monastery as its name suggested?

Finally, eager for a breath of fresh air, she took a stroll in the gardens. The mingled scents of many different flowers perfumed the summer dusk. Looking back at the house, she glimpsed the duke staring down at her from one of the upper windows.

“Can you not see?” she whispered, wishing that he could hear her. “
You
are as much a prisoner of that gilded cell as your poor child?”

* * *

When was the last time he had indulged in the simple pleasure of a walk in his own garden?

As Hayden watched Miss Shaw stroll among the shrubberies and flower beds, he tried to recall the smell of the air on such an evening and the high-pitched chorus the frogs sang from their lily pads on the ornamental lakes. Those gardens belonged to him and yet they might as well have been as distant as the moon for all the opportunity he had to enjoy them.

That was
his
choice, the strong voice of parental responsibility reminded him. He had a duty to the child he had helped bring into this world, a child who had not asked to be born frail and motherless. A son who needed him in a way few children needed their fathers.

On the day of Kit’s birth, he had made his son a promise, and he was more committed than ever to keeping it. The loss of a little freedom was a small price to pay. At least he had his liberty to lose. It was a luxury his son would never know. One he could not afford if he was to survive.

“What are you looking at, Papa?” asked Kit in a tone that sounded both plaintive and petulant.

“Nothing in particular.” It troubled Hayden to give his son a less than honest answer. But he feared any mention of Miss Shaw would only upset the child, and she had done enough of that already. “Shall I read you another story? Or shall we play with your little people?”

Kit shook his head. “I want to look out the window again. Miss Leah let me. She pretended she was my horse. She carried me over so I could see the garden.”

“She almost fell while carrying you.” Hayden’s annoyance with the woman sharpened his tone. “You might have been badly injured if I had not caught you. There is nothing much to see out this window, especially now that it is growing dark.”

He jerked the curtains closed.

Was he wrong to have denied his son a glimpse of the grounds and gardens? Hayden tried to stifle a pang of conscience. The doctor had insisted it was better if the child did not see what lay beyond the safe boundaries of his nursery. It might only promote dangerous discontent, making Kit yearn for liberties that could pose a danger to his fragile health. How could he reject the counsel of a man to whom he owed Kit’s life?

Hayden had never questioned the wisdom of his decision, until Leah Shaw came barging in, flinging about words like
solitary, monotonous
and
stifling
. He told himself the woman meant well, she simply did not understand the seriousness of his son’s condition.

“Will you take me to the window tomorrow morning, when it is light again?” Kit pleaded. “You are bigger and stronger than Miss Leah. You will not let me fall.”

“We will see about that tomorrow,” replied Hayden as he strode back to his son’s bed.

“No, you won’t.” Kit pouted. “You never do when you say that. When is Miss Leah coming back? I like her. She is going to be my governess and teach me lots of new things.”

Why had she blurted all that out to his son? Hayden silently fumed until his sense of fairness intervened. Why should Miss Shaw have kept quiet about something she believed to be true? Still, he wished she had shown a little more discretion. Now he would be obliged to inform his son it had all been a misunderstanding.

He tried to break the truth to Kit gently. “That has not been decided for certain. I fear you are not yet strong enough to study with a governess. It can be difficult and tiring. Wouldn’t you rather listen to stories and play games with me?”

The child thought for a moment. “Couldn’t I do both? I could study with Miss Leah until I grow tired then you could read to me while I rest.”

Kit’s pale little face seemed to glow with satisfaction that he had come up with such a clever plan on his own. Hayden’s sense of fairness urged him to admit it sounded like a good compromise. But life was not fair and fate was not fair. Hayden barely managed to stop short of thinking God was not fair.