The Duke's Marriage Mission (5 page)

A year would give her plenty of time to persuade His Grace that more freedom could only benefit his son. After that, another governess would be able to follow the trail she had blazed.

The tension in the duke’s posture and expression eased. He closed the final inches between her fingertips and his to shake her hand. “A one-year position would be entirely agreeable to me, Miss Shaw.”

Clearly the one thing he approved about her taking the position was the prospect of being rid of her in twelve months.

That was one matter on which they could agree, Leah told herself in an effort to stifle a flicker of doubt.

Chapter Three

O
ne year. Could he abide having Leah Shaw under his roof for that long? Hayden asked himself that question as he rode back to Renforth Abbey behind the carriage.

One year was a distinct improvement over having her there for an indefinite period. And at the end of that time, the decision to leave would be
hers
, not his. Kit was clever enough to realize that no amount of pleading with his father was likely to make his governess stay, so there should be no repetition of last night’s upset.

Though Miss Shaw had offered to assist him in finding a replacement governess when the time came, Hayden had no intention of permitting any such thing. If he decided his son would benefit from further instruction,
he
would hire someone more suitable. But if this experiment proved to be nothing but a disruption, he and Kit would return to the routine that had served them well enough for the past several years.

In the meantime, Hayden knew he would have to be vigilant to prevent Leah Shaw’s presence from putting his son’s health at risk. Not to mention keeping Kit from becoming too attached to his new governess. Which of those would be the most difficult, he could not predict. Miss Shaw was headstrong and impulsive, but she also possessed a certain charm that he feared might prove equally hazardous...and not only to his son.

That fear was confirmed when the carriage halted at the entrance to the house and his butler greeted the lady as if she were a long-lost relative. “It is a pleasure to welcome you back to Renforth Abbey so soon, Miss Shaw. Do I take it you will be staying somewhat longer this time?”

“I hope so, Mr. Gibson.” She gave a melodic ripple of laughter that Hayden resented, though he could not fathom why. “At least long enough to make a proper acquaintance of the place.”

As Hayden dismounted, the butler turned toward him. “Now that Miss Shaw will be staying, shall I find her more suitable quarters, Your Grace?”

Quarters nearer the nursery, for instance? Hayden did not want that. Leah Shaw might begin poking her pretty nose in more often than he wished. “What is wrong with the room she had last night? Put her back in there.”

“I couldn’t,” she protested. “It is too grand. You might need that room for—”

“Guests?” Hayden interrupted her with a derisive chuckle. “I am not in the habit of hosting house parties, Miss Shaw. The only person who comes to visit is my sister, who descends periodically without invitation or warning. There are plenty of other rooms we can place at Althea’s disposal. I insist you keep your present quarters.”

He ignored the butler’s doubtful look, but found it impossible to do the same with Leah Shaw’s engaging smile of gratitude. “That is very kind of you, sir. It is a lovely room. I have never had one half so fine before.”

Her gratitude troubled Hayden, knowing how little he deserved it. Yet he hoped it might make her feel obliged to comply with his wishes, if she believed he had granted her some sort of honor.

“I trust you will be comfortable there.” His reply came out more like an order. “Now, if you will accompany me to the nursery, my son will be pleased to learn you have accepted the position.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Miss Shaw hurried to keep up as Hayden strode into the house. “Would you like me to begin his lessons right away?”

“Indeed not.” He steeled himself against the charm of her eagerness. “Kit will be tired out from last night, if he has not made himself downright ill. We will postpone any lessons until he is fully recovered. I only hope the assurance that you have accepted the post will relieve his anxiety and allow him to get some rest.”

“You make it sound as if it is
my
fault your son was upset,” she said as they ascended the main staircase toward the new range. “If you recall, I came here yesterday with every intention of being his governess. It was your initial refusal to let me stay that disappointed Kit.”

Coming on the heels of too many other sleepless nights, his most recent one had worn Hayden’s patience threadbare. He resented Miss Shaw’s accusation that he was responsible for distressing his son to the point of illness.

But he could not deny it.

“What does any of that matter now?” he demanded. “It is settled that you are staying. Who decided what and when is of no consequence.”

“It is of consequence to me.” Leah Shaw spoke quietly but with firm insistence that warned Hayden he would have his hands full during the next twelve months. “I would never do anything to upset your son.”

“But I would?” Hayden shot her a glare as she tried to keep up with his long-striding pace. “Is that what you are saying? I will have you know—”

What he would have her know must wait, it seemed, for they had reached the nursery. Hayden did not want to risk a confrontation with Miss Shaw where his son might overhear.

With considerable effort, he moderated his tone. “I beg your pardon, Miss Shaw. I did not mean to imply that you were responsible for my son’s distress. But surely you can understand why the start of his lessons must wait until I am satisfied that he is well enough.”

The lady accepted his apology with a gracious smile that held a vexing suggestion of triumph. Even so, the way her full, mobile lips curved upward, bracketed by winsome dimples, was too appealing to suit Hayden. He could not risk falling under her charm for fear she might use it to persuade him to relax his vigilance over his son.

“Perhaps we should decide together when Kit is ready to begin,” she suggested. “I assure you, I do not mean to subject him to a rigorous course of study that might tax his strength. I only want to provide him with an agreeable diversion, so he will be less inclined to dwell upon his limitations. I hope that will make him
less
prone to upsets and restless nights, which would benefit you both.”

Without awaiting his reply, she pushed open the nursery door and entered.

“Is that you, Papa?” Kit demanded, his voice thin and fretful. “I heard you talking outside my door. Did you catch Miss Leah before she left? Did you ask her to stay and teach me?”

“He did, indeed,” Miss Shaw piped up brightly as she approached Kit’s bed. “And very persuasive he was, too. I have promised to stay for a year then I will help your father find a new governess to take my place.”

Hayden gritted his teeth. He wished she had not blurted out that information to Kit right at the outset. She had sworn she would do nothing to distress his son and he believed her. The problem was, she did not seem to anticipate the effect her words or actions might have on the child.

“A year is a very long time.” Kit seemed to take the news well, much to his father’s relief. “Can you teach me everything there is to learn in one year, Miss Leah?”

She laughed, not in a way that mocked the child’s ignorance, but as if they shared an amusing jest. Her laughter seemed to waft through the room like a fresh summer breeze. “I am certain you are very clever and I am an excellent teacher, but there is far more to know in the world than I could teach you in twenty years.”

She perched on the right-hand side of Kit’s bed...where Hayden usually sat. “I am not certain even your wise father knows
everything
.”

Was the impudent creature teasing him? Part of Hayden was inclined to take offense. But another long dormant part actually enjoyed it.

* * *

Her young pupil had been right about one thing, Leah decided a few days later. A year could be a very long time. Especially a year at remote Renforth Abbey, with so little to occupy her.

The duke had decided his son needed at least two days of rest before any instruction could begin. Even then, he would only permit her two hours a day with the child. His Grace had given her strict orders not to tire or overstimulate his son. Did he not realize that half of Kit’s trouble stemmed from being understimulated for so many years?

Difficult as it was for her, Leah managed to stifle an impudent reply. She did not want to antagonize the duke for fear he might further restrict her time with Kit. Instead, she resolved to make the most of each hour, so he would see how much good her lessons did the child.

“So tell me,” she asked Kit as she sat beside him on the bed for their first lesson, “can you read any words at all?”

Before the boy could answer, the duke spoke up from his chair on the opposite side of the bed. “He does not need to read for himself. He has me to do it for him.”

Leah’s hand ached to pluck a pillow from behind her back and hurl it at Lord Northam. Much as she chafed under the other limits he had imposed upon her, she most resented his insistence on being present during his son’s lessons. How could she do her job properly with him sitting there glowering at her, providing disagreeable answers to the questions she tried to ask his child?

Reminding herself not to antagonize him, she turned a deaf ear to his words. She spoke to Kit in an even brighter tone, which she sensed annoyed his father. “You would
like
to learn to read, though, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would,” Kit answered quickly, before the duke had an opportunity to express a contrary opinion. “Very much.”

She glanced down at him and they exchanged a grin of mischievous conspirators.

Then his expression grew anxious. “How will you teach me to read, Miss Leah?”

“Your father has already made a fine start.” Leah took care to speak loud enough for the duke to hear.

“He has?” Kit’s eyes widened in surprise and his brow creased, perhaps wondering whether she might be joking. “How?”

“By reading
to
you.” Leah hoped a dose of approval from her might lead the duke to relax his suffocating vigilance. “In my opinion it is the very best way to start. Now I reckon you are ready to take the next step.”

“What is that?” The boy’s eyes fairly glittered with hunger to learn.

A good number of Leah’s previous pupils had viewed their lessons as a disagreeable chore, undertaken with the greatest reluctance and shirked at the slightest opportunity. She had been obliged to exercise all her powers of invention to interest them in learning anything at all. This little boy, whose world was so much more limited than theirs, seemed to recognize the many doors an education might open for him.

“You will see,” she teased, to whet his curiosity. “Tell me, what is your favorite story? The one your father has read to you most often. One you practically know by heart. Is there a book like that?”

The child gave a vigorous nod. “
Gulliver’s Travels
. It is the book I always choose if Papa asks which one he should read.”

“An excellent selection!” Leah reached for his thin hand and gave it a squeeze. The waxen coldness of it chilled her. “That is a favorite of mine, too. I like to imagine what it must be like to visit all those fantastical lands. Which would you most like to explore if you could?”

Kit had obviously given that question a great deal of thought already, for he replied without hesitation, “Lilliput, of course.”

“I thought you might say that.” What an engaging prospect it must be, for a child so weak and dependent on the care of others, to appear large and powerful to the tiny inhabitants of that land.

“Would you like to go there?” Kit asked.

“Of course.” Leah chafed his hand gently in an effort to warm it. “I would like to visit all those realms.”

It would represent the ultimate freedom—to voyage far beyond the limits of any map, to places where horses could talk, islands could fly and mice could grow as big as horses.

“I cannot take you to any of the others,” the child spoke in a tone of wistful regret. “But we can visit Lilliput.”

Before Leah could ask how that was possible, Kit called out to his father, “Will you bring the box, Papa, for me to show Miss Leah?”

“I thought this was lesson time, not playtime.” The duke’s gruff tone sounded strangely defensive.

“But I want her to see them.” Kit thrust out his lower lip in a pouting frown. “You can fetch the book, too, so Miss Leah can teach me to read it.”

When his father did not stir at once, he added in an imperious tone, “Now.”

“Very well.” The duke’s obvious reluctance was tempered with something that sounded like fear. “Do not fret yourself. I will fetch them.”

A moment later he appeared at his son’s bedside with a well-worn volume of
Gulliver’s Travels
bound in red leather. He also brought a wide but shallow wooden box of the kind Leah had seen used to store chessmen. It was closed with a finely wrought bronze clasp.

Once Kit got his way, his disposition became all sweetness again.

“Thank you, Papa. Put it here.” The child gestured to his outstretched legs covered with bedclothes. It was impossible to mistake his rising excitement, which Leah feared would not please his formidable father.

But the duke obeyed his son’s orders without a murmur.

Kit quickly unlatched the box and threw back the top with a flourish. “These are my Lilliputians. What do you think of them?”

“I think they are marvelous.” Leah reached to pick up one of the tiny figures nestled in the box, to examine more closely. At the last moment, her hand froze. The little people in that box were so skillfully crafted that they looked as if they might squirm or protest if she tried to touch them.