The Duke's Marriage Mission Page 4

  The poor man was the picture of exhaustion. In spite of her annoyance with him, Leah could not stifle a pang of sympathy. His eyes were bloodshot, the dusky smudges beneath them darker than yesterday. His face was unshaven, the dark stubble further accentuating his pallor. Strangely, it made him more appealing rather than less.

  “Your Grace.” Instinctively she reached toward him, fearing he might collapse at any moment. “What are you doing here? Whatever is the matter?”

  The duke avoided her outstretched hand and hurled himself onto the seat opposite her with a sigh that echoed her recent one. “You are the matter, Miss Shaw. You have filled my son’s head with the notion of having a governess and he will not rest until I persuade you to return to Renforth Abbey. I have been up half the night with him, only to fall asleep while you prepared to leave.”

  He looked as if he could sleep for a solid week without relieving his bone-deep weariness. Mr. Gibson had claimed the duke spent nearly every waking hour with his son. Did he also sit up with the child at night when he was ill or fretful? His present appearance suggested so. Leah had never met a father whose devotion ran so deep.

  “Name your price,” the duke demanded in a breathless voice as if he had chased the carriage down on foot. “And I will double it.”

  Double whatever sum she named? Leah’s cherished dreams of travel and adventure, which had seemed shattered only moments ago, suddenly glittered brighter than ever. “You truly want me to take charge of your son?”

  “Of course not!” His Grace flared up. “There is nothing I want less. But Kit wants it and I dare not refuse this fancy of his no matter how little I like the idea. So tell me your terms of employment and I will tell you my conditions.”

  His hostility to the notion of having her as Kit’s governess stung Leah harder than she expected.

  “I believe we should do it the other way around.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “First you tell me your conditions then I shall decide what amount of compensation I require to comply with them.”

  The duke scowled only to have his forbidding expression spoiled by a wide yawn.

  “Very well,” he agreed once it had passed. “For my son’s protection I must set firm limits on what you can and cannot do with him. No more cavorting around pretending to be his horse. Kit will remain safely in his bed. You may work with him for one hour in the morning and another in the afternoon. You will cease at once if he seems tired or unwell. You will not stir up discontent with his situation or the precautions I must take for his safety.”

  Leah’s spirits sank. If she accepted the conditions His Grace demanded, she would never be able to help Kit break out of his stifling prison. Instead, she would end up bound hand and foot by the duke’s rigid limits.

  “In that case, sir,” she replied, “I fear there is no salary I could name that would render such a situation tolerable to me. I am sorry you have gone to so much trouble to hire me back, but I must decline. I could not teach under those conditions.”

  She was taking a risk, she knew, in rejecting the duke’s offer. Perhaps that had been his aim, to present her with conditions she would be forced to refuse. Then he could place the blame for Kit’s disappointment on her. But if the duke truly was prepared to go to any lengths to insure his child’s wellbeing, he would be obliged to compromise.

  Hostile silence bristled between them as His Grace considered her refusal and his response.

  What could he be thinking? Was he weighing the danger he feared she might pose to Kit against the torment of more sleepless nights trying to comfort a disappointed child? Or had some part of him begun to recognize the consequences his excessive protectiveness might have upon his son?

  “Tell me then, Miss Shaw, under what conditions would you be prepared to accept a position as my son’s governess?” A glint of steely determination in his tired eyes warned Leah against pressing too far with her demands.

  “What about this?” she proposed. “I will do my utmost to avoid anything that might bring harm to your son. In return, you must promise not to interfere with my methods of teaching. That is a reasonable compromise, surely?”

  The earl’s brow creased in a dubious frown. Or perhaps it was only a look of deep thought.

  “And your salary demands?” he asked, giving her hope that he meant to agree.

  “I make no demands.” She strove not to take offense at the way he had phrased his question. If she were as weary as he appeared, she might be hard-pressed to maintain proper civility. “I ask only that you honor the terms I accepted from your sister.”

  “Very well, then.” The duke thrust out his hand. “We have a bargain.”

  Leah reached out to grasp his hand only to hesitate at the last moment. “There is one more matter we should settle.”

  “What is that?” His Grace sounded suspicious of this last-minute provision.

  “It is something your sister agreed to when she engaged my services. I mentioned it earlier, but I want to be certain you understand. It is not my practice to stay in one position for more than a year. When the time comes for me to leave, I will help you secure a replacement. Would that be agreeable to you?”

  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 term 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

  ONE 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. 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—”

&nbs
p; “Guests?” Hayden interrupted her with 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 favor.

  “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 implying? 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 suggest 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 in a thin and fretful voice. “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 favorit
e 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 play time.” 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 must 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 bring 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, shallow wooden box of the kind Leah had seen used to store chessmen. It was closed with a finely wrought bronze clasp.