The Duke's Marriage Mission (9 page)

Once again she and the duke exchanged a look over his son’s head. This time, both their eyes sparkled with amusement at Kit’s well-meant, but rather condescending remark. Both pressed their lips together to keep from laughing, lest it injure his feelings.

The duke mastered his merriment first. “Indeed I did not have a teacher like yours who makes studies so interesting. If I had, who knows what a brilliant scholar I might have become?”

His words brought a warm flush to Leah’s cheeks and made her lower her gaze, though she did not altogether understand why. Was it so the duke would not see how much his praise pleased her?

“You gentlemen are determined to give me a very high opinion of myself.” Instinctively she sought safety in jest. “But I must not let myself get too toplofty or my head may swell up too big for my bonnet!”

Father and son joined in laughter at the comical picture she painted. Their amusement brought Leah a familiar sense of satisfaction that nothing else in her life had ever been able to match. She’d never possessed the power or fortune to indulge the generous impulses that filled her heart. But she had always been able to bring a smile to the dear faces of Gran and later her school friends. For moments at a time, she had been able to relieve them of their cares. What gift could be better than that?

“Shall we return to our lessons?” she suggested when their mirth subsided. “As clever as Kit is at reading, his grasp of arithmetic is even better. Your Grace, would you kindly fetch his Lilliputian figures to assist us? They are such excellent teaching tools. They deserve more of the credit for your son’s astonishing progress than I do.”

“With pleasure.” The duke produced the box of wooden figures from a small bedside table. “It never occurred to me how these might be used to teach Kit. I commend you on your resourceful methods, Miss Shaw.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. A governess is obliged to adapt her materials according to the circumstances of her pupils.” The duke’s praise gratified Leah, though not for her own sake. Instead she viewed his approval as an asset she could call upon to gain the next step in his son’s liberation. “Now, Kit, I am going to set you a more challenging problem than any you have tried before. Do not be daunted, though. I am certain it is within your capability.”

The remainder of the lesson proceeded well. Leah was forced to admit she enjoyed having the duke take part in his son’s education...on her terms. He now seemed to accept that additional study time was having a positive effect on Kit. Did he also recognize the benefits to
his
well-being of having more time to himself? Perhaps not, but she certainly did.

The duke seemed more relaxed of late, readier to smile and even laugh on occasion. The shadows of exhaustion beneath his eyes had begun to fade and his step had grown lighter, as if part of a crushing burden had been shifted from his broad shoulders. Leah observed all these small changes with a warm sense of fulfillment, much like she’d experienced as a child when she made her grandmother laugh.

There was another reason she welcomed the duke’s participation in his son’s lessons, though she was reluctant to acknowledge it. The fact was, she craved the stimulation of adult company. The Renforth servants still seemed alarmed by her efforts to make friends. She would have given anything if Hannah or Rebecca lived near enough to meet for a chat over tea. Being able to talk and jest with Lord Northam during some of his son’s lessons went a little way toward filling that void in her life.

Once Kit’s lessons were concluded for the day, Leah took a long walk in the gardens then wrote a reply to Grace’s recent letter. Having already given an account of her arrival at Renforth Abbey and a description of the estate and family, there was little news to report in this one.

When the clock struck eight, she started and threw down her pen. “Oh, dear! I haven’t time to dress for dinner or I’ll be late.”

What was the point of dressing up to dine all alone? Leah asked herself as she dashed through the echoing corridor then flew down the stairs. She had come to rather dread her solitary meals in the vast dining room, which seemed to highlight her isolation at Renforth Abbey. She would have much preferred to dine on a tray in her room, but Mr. Gibson insisted his staff welcomed the opportunity to prepare and serve a proper meal.

The butler stood waiting just outside the dining room when she arrived, flushed and breathless.

“I’m sorry...to be late,” she gasped. “I was trying...to think of...something interesting...to say in my letter.”

Before Mr. Gibson could reply, a familiar voice issued from the dining room. “I find it difficult to imagine you at a loss for something diverting to say, Miss Shaw.”

As he spoke, Lord Northam stepped into the wide hallway to stand beside his butler. He was dressed in finer attire than Leah had seen him wear since her arrival at Renforth Abbey. His well-cut blue coat emphasized his lean build and the rich frets of chestnut in his dark brown hair. His linen was crisp and spotless. His boots were polished to a dark gleam. Was he going away somewhere or perhaps expecting company?

“Good evening, Your Grace.” Suddenly conscious of his rank, she curtsied to the duke for the first time in over a fortnight. “You give me too much credit. It is not easy to generate interesting news when my life is so quiet compared to those of my friends.”

“Begging your pardon, Miss Shaw,” said the butler, “but the post was late arriving. There are letters for you.”

He gestured toward a small silver tray that rested on a narrow table just outside the entry hall.

“
Letter
s!” Leah flew toward the table. “More than one?”

“Is that not usually what the use of the plural indicates?” Lord Northam inquired, in what Leah could only conclude was meant to be a jest. “Perhaps you ought to brush up on your grammar by presenting a lesson on the subject to Kit and me.”

Leah laughed, more from delight at receiving letters addressed in the familiar handwriting of her friends than because she found His Grace’s quip very amusing. Even with their busy lives and exalted ranks, Rebecca, Marian and Hannah had not forgotten her.

As she turned the letters over, fairly caressing the thick paper, the duke spoke again. “My son fell asleep early tonight. Dispensing with his nap and undertaking additional lessons seems to have made it easier for him to settle at bedtime.”

“I am pleased to hear it, Your Grace.” Leah bit her tongue to keep from reminding him that she had told him such changes might have that benefit.

Now that they were getting along better, she did not want to spoil it by vexing him. Besides, the arrival of her friends’ letters made her feel kindly disposed toward the whole world.

“I thought I might join you for a proper dinner,” he suggested, “if you do not object.”

The duke had dressed up just for...
her
? Flattering as the notion was, Lord Northam’s offer took her aback nonetheless. The letters in her hand called to her the way rich cake might tempt someone faint with hunger. Leah would have liked to bolt her dinner and retire to her room as quickly as possible to read them. Or perhaps she might have taken advantage of her solitude to look them over while she ate. Either act would be inexcusably rude if she were to dine with her employer.

Besides, she would feel so out of place, still in the same plain dress she had worn all day, while he looked so splendid.

But how could she refuse?

As she opened her mouth to reply, it occurred to Leah that cultivating the duke’s acquaintance might make it easier to persuade him to loosen his protective grip upon his son. Surely that would be worth a little delay in reading her letters.

* * *

What had made him suppose his son’s vivacious governess would want to spend her private time in his company? Hayden could not mistake her hesitation when he asked. The lady had made it clear she considered him little better than a jailer who kept his young son imprisoned in a stifling cocoon.

Lately, he’d begun to question whether she might be right.

The extra hours of study which he had feared might tax Kit’s strength appeared to be having the opposite effect. His son was sleeping better, eating better and seemed in altogether brighter spirits since he’d been permitted longer lessons with his governess. Could there be other activities Hayden had assumed would harm Kit that might instead prove beneficial?

Perhaps so. But could he afford to take that risk with his child’s well-being at stake?

He had taken a different kind of risk coming here this evening in search of pleasant diversion. After a fortnight of uninterrupted sleeps, Hayden felt like a new man—less anxious and irritable, more energetic. But with that energy came a sense of restlessness and a disturbing awareness of how restricted his world had become. He had hoped the novelty of a proper meal in the dining room and a spell of Miss Shaw’s lively conversation might take his mind off such troublesome thoughts. But one look at the lady’s face told him she found the prospect as appealing as a dose of brimstone and treacle.

“If you prefer to dine in private, I quite understand.” He tried to conceal his disappointment, not least from himself. “I can have my dinner later, after you finish.”

“You should do nothing of the kind,” she cried, much to his surprise. “What objection could I possibly have to you eating in your own dining room? If one of us ought to withdraw, it is I. But since you have kindly invited me to join you, I should be honored to accept.”

“Capital!” Her unexpected agreement acted as a tonic upon Hayden’s spirits. “It is settled, then.”

He turned to the butler, who had remained passive and still during their exchange, almost as if he had not heard a word of it. “You are quite certain, Gibson, that this change in our arrangements will not inconvenience the staff?”

“Not in the least, Your Grace,” the butler assured him. “I shall be more than happy to set a place for you at the head of the table again. If you and Miss Shaw will excuse me, I shall attend to it at once.”

“The head of the table?” Hayden shook his head. “With Miss Shaw clear down at the other end, we might as well each be dining on our own. We would have to shout ourselves hoarse to carry on a conversation. Set our places across from one another, if you please.”

“Very well, Your Grace.” Gibson bowed and retreated into the dining room to carry out his master’s orders.

Once the butler had left them alone, Hayden found himself suddenly overcome with awkwardness.

“You are certain it will not be an imposition to dine with me?” he asked Kit’s governess. “Truly?”

“Truly, Your Grace,” she insisted with a persuasive ring of sincerity. “If I gave you cause to think otherwise, I must apologize. Your invitation took me by surprise. I am not attired to dine with a dustman, much less a duke.”

She gave a sweeping gesture to indicate her dress, accompanied by a comical grimace that made Hayden smile.

“I see nothing wrong with how you look,” he assured her. Privately, he thought the simple style of the garment most becoming on her. “Besides, this is hardly a formal occasion. Are you certain there is no other difficulty?”

Leah Shaw ducked her head, like a child ashamed of some mischief she’d committed. “I must confess, I
was
anxious to read my letters. It is odd. Only two months ago, I saw most of my dear school friends for the first time in years. Yet I now find myself pining for their company more than I did before.”

Was that all? It surprised Hayden to find himself overcome with relief. “I do not think it is odd at all. You must have enjoyed seeing your friends again and now you are more acutely aware of what you’ve been missing.”

Could that be his problem, as well? Had a taste of Miss Shaw’s company made him realize how much he missed having a woman in the house?

Hayden roughly dismissed the thought. But another one occurred to him and refused any attempt to put it from his mind. “Besides that, I suppose you have more time on your hands at Renforth Abbey than in your previous positions, and fewer diversions.”

Did those disadvantages lead her to view this position as an arduous one, in spite of the generous salary? That possibility troubled Hayden.

“That is true, Your Grace,” she admitted with a wistful half smile.

“Then, by all means, go read your post,” he urged her. “I will not be offended, I promise you.”

Miss Shaw held up her letters. “These are not like milk that will go sour if they sit too long. They will say all the same things if I read them this minute or three hours from now. Dinner with you, on the other hand, is an opportunity that might not come again soon. I should avail myself of it while I have the chance.”

Letters going sour like milk? Miss Shaw did have an amusing way of putting things, Hayden had to admit.

As he strove without success to produce an equally witty reply, the butler came to his rescue, appearing in the dining room doorway. “The table has been set as you requested, Your Grace. Shall I inform the kitchen staff that you and Miss Shaw are ready to dine?”

“Please do.” He offered his arm to Kit’s governess. “Shall we go through, Miss Shaw?”

She might have preferred to read her letters immediately, but the lady had to eat sometime. The pair of them dining together would make less work for the kitchen staff. Yet it was not those practical considerations that made his spirits soar when Leah Shaw smiled at him and took his arm.