He could hear her drinking from the pouch, and he smiled to himself. He pretended to study the sky for several more moments before hearing a quiet “Thank you”. Then he turned around to find the pouch back in its place on the rock.
“Do you enjoy working here?” the Duchess asked.
He looked down at her lovely features, and he could not stop the thoughts that tore through his mind. They were not the villainous thoughts of rakes and degenerates, but rather of a man whose heart was filled with warmth. Somehow, he found himself wishing that one day the Duke would leave her, and she would be available to find a man fitting her elegance and beauty. “Yes, Your Grace, I do,” he said in response to her question.
She gave a small smile and squinted as she looked up at him. “There is no reason for formalities here,” she said with a sigh. “Please, call me Caroline. I am a peasant, after all.” He thought he saw a flare of anger behind her eyes, but it was gone so quickly, he was unsure it had been there.
“Of course,” Philip replied, though he was unsure what he thought of her request. Would he be able to see her as a woman and not a Duchess? He studied her again and found his answer. Yes, he most certainly could.
“My husband must think highly of you to charge you with the task of watching over me. Though, I do wonder, why did you offer me water when he forbade it? I could tell him you defied him if I chose to do so.”
Philip let out a small sigh. “That you could; although, I believe you would not do so.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why is that?”
“Because I see a woman nobler than the title she carries,” he replied. He cursed himself silently. He had a job to do, which was not complimenting the woman before him. “I am sorry for speaking in such a bold manner.”
She offered him another of her wonderful smiles, one that was warmer than the sun that heated his back. “Thank you for your words, Philip. They are more comforting than you realize.”
He said nothing, for he feared what he might say. Instead, he gave her a nod, and she turned to resume her work. He wanted to kneel at her side and help her with the task she had been given, but he knew he could not. Not only for the fear of the Duke learning he had done so, but also because he recognized that she needed the work to aid in venting her anger. No, he had no business taking away from her that which would allow her to become stronger, for she tore at the soil with a vengeance. What she needed was to be left alone.
***
Although he took a great risk, Philip managed to secure some food and more water for Caroline. The woman had gobbled down the food as a street urchin who had not eaten in weeks, her eyes darting fearfully toward the house.
“My ears never fail me,” he assured her. “I will hear when he returns.”
She gave him a nod and slowed her eating, for which Philip was glad. He could not have her choking on the bread when she was not to be receiving any food whatsoever. She took another drink from the pouch and then handed it to him.
“Thank you,” she repeated for the fifth time. “One day I shall repay your kindness for the deeds you have done here today.”
He went to tell her that it was not needed, that the payment he sought would not come from her, but a sound caught his attention. He followed her gaze to the back door where her son, Oliver, walked through with his governess. When he turned back to Caroline, the look of longing she had on her face was heart-wrenching. He knew the son was used against her, oftentimes being withheld from her for many days when the Duke was angry with her.
“Mother!” the boy cried as he broke free from the grasp of the governess and ran toward Caroline. He was soon in his mother’s arms as she planted kisses all over his cheeks.
“Oh, Oliver!” she said as she pushed him away lightly and looked him up and down. “How are your studies?”
The boy hugged her again, and she closed her eyes as if savoring the moment. “I am learning my letters,” Oliver said as he pulled away from his mother’s grasp. “Miss Lindston says I’m very bright.” He paused as he noticed Philip. “Oh, hello.”
“Hello, young master,” Philip replied with a bow.
Miss Lindston approached, her face filled with concern.
“Is everything all right?” Philip asked the governess as he forestalled her. “You look very upset.” Behind him, he could hear Caroline and Oliver talking, Caroline telling her son of her love for him. It was Philip’s hope to give them as much time as he could.
“Quite well, Mr. Butler,” the governess replied curtly. “His Grace told me…” She paused to lower her voice and lean in. “Not to allow Oliver near his mother today. I must not disobey him.”
“I could not agree more,” Philip replied. “For to disobey his word would be most unfitting.” His mind churned as he thought of a way to keep the woman at bay for longer. “It reminds me of a story my uncle once told me.” He tapped his chin. “Wait, perhaps it was my father.”
Miss Lindston attempted to look past him, but he shifted in the same direction. “Well, it makes no difference who told me, does it?” He laughed and was amused when the governess gave a distracted laugh. “Well, it was the story of a Duke and a servant named David.” He paused again. “Wait, do you know this story already by chance?”
“Hardly,” Miss Lindston said with a sniff. “Now, pardon me.” She pushed past him, and a moment later she grabbed the boy by the hand and pulled him away from Caroline. “Now, Oliver, we must keep to our schedule. Come, it is time for our walk.”
Oliver stared at his mother with sadness in his eyes, but he did as the governess asked.
Caroline watched the pair walk away, her eyes clouded with tears. “Once again you have intervened and helped me,” she said without looking at him. “I promise I will repay the gesture now twice over. Do not hesitate to tell me what you want when the day comes when I am able to oblige.”
“Thank you…Caroline.” He would never take that repayment, however. He had helped the woman, for she was good and not for any form of personal gain. For a brief moment, as he looked at her, he thought that maybe he could love such a woman again. However, he had experienced that type of love before, and the pain was still much too strong to even consider it risking such a relationship again. Plus, this woman was not available to love; she was a married woman, married to the man who was his employer.
Therefore, with a smile, she turned to continue with her work, and Philip returned to his. He was certain both hoped the Duke would be in a better mood upon his return than that in which he had left.
***
The sun was nearing its resting place on the horizon when the Duke returned, his mistress at his side. Philip stood straight, his head bowed so his dark hair hung over his face lest his own eyes betray the anger he held. Although he did not mind the time he spent with the Duchess, he could not condone such abhorrent behavior from any man, be he Duke or peasant. However, voicing his opinion would get him dismissed, and this position was much too important to him. This, of course, brought on a bout of guilt for putting his work before the needs of the young woman who was bent over in the dirt, but his dismissal would not help her either, for his words would do nothing to change the course of action the Duke had set.
“I see my request has been completed,” the Duke said.
Caroline went to stand, but the man’s hand rested on her shoulder to keep her on her knees.
“Do not rise until I instruct you to do so.”
The nod Caroline gave reminded Philip of a child being reprimanded, and in a way, that was the Duke’s intentions at the moment.
“I hope the lesson you had today has taught you what I expect from you, although you do not seem to learn, for I must teach you daily.” He let out a sigh as if he was exasperated, and the woman beside him giggled as she brushed back her red hair.
Philip hid his glare for the woman—Miss French if he had heard correctly. He knew little about clothing for women, but the dress she wore was expertly made and the jewels she
wore around her neck were large. She repositioned the pendant that had moved on her bosom when she laughed, clearly wishing to bring attention to both herself and the necklace.
“I apologize for my behavior, Your Grace,” Caroline replied meekly. “May I dine with you tonight?”
The man snorted and looked her up and down. “No, I do not wish one of your class dining with me, especially in clothing such as what you wear currently. There is no time for you to ready yourself anyway. Why, by the time the servants heated water…”
“And Oliver? Will he…?”
Philip had been holding his breath. The woman had courage, he had to admit that! Not only to ask another question but to interrupt the Duke, as well? Hidden courage indeed.
The Duke did not seem to take notice of the slight. “My son will be dining with Miss French and myself. I will have your meal brought out here. That will give the servants time to heat enough water for your bath.” He assessed her again, a grimace on his face. “I am afraid you will need twice as much water to wash off all the grime from your body.”
Caroline clenched a fist, and Philip worried the woman had been driven to the brink. Would she unleash her fury and jeopardize everything? “But…”
“Your Grace,” Philip said before the woman could say anything more—a little too loudly by the manner in which the Duke and Miss French jumped, “shall I continue my work here, or may I work elsewhere?”
As he had hoped, the Duke redirected his anger from Caroline to Philip—and stopped Caroline from making her situation worse. “Of course, you bumbling fool. You must keep an eye on her.” He heaved his arms in the air. “What is it with people around here not listening to me? The sun is not yet set, and I have not dismissed you, so the task I have assigned you has yet to be completed. When she is finished for the night, you may retire. You should be thankful that I am not docking your pay for your stupidity.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Philip said with forced humility. “Thank you for your mercy.” He dipped his head further to add to the charade.
The odious man snorted again, and Miss French laughed outright.
Between the curtain of his hair, Philip watched as the two disappeared into the house. He unclenched his jaw and turned to cast his eyes on Caroline.
The woman no longer adorned herself with the humble stance she had in the presence of the Duke. Now, she was angry. “You interrupted me!” she said. “What made you believe you could do such a thing? Especially with a woman of my…title.” The last word was choked.
“Forgiveness, Your Grace,” Philip said with a diffident bow of his head. “I spoke out because I did not wish to see you hurt. At least, not anymore.” His voice was now just a whisper.
It became quiet, and Philip remained standing with his hands behind his back. She might be treated as less than who she was by the Duke, but Philip had no intentions of doing so himself. He hoped she understood that he had been disrespectful only to ease her suffering.
The butler emerged from the house with a tray that held much less than Philip expected it would have if Caroline had been served in the dining room.
The Duchess turned to face Philip, the last light of the evening highlighting her beauty. “Thank you,” she whispered before the butler was close enough to hear. “Although, I doubt that anyone can stop my hurt.”
Chapter Four
Caroline used the week following her humiliation in the garden to redirect her anger and formulate a plan for her escape. The Duke had bestowed enough jewelry and other valuable gifts over the years—not as tokens of affection, of course, but as a means to demonstrate to the ton his vast wealth. She could easily sell it all and have adequate funds to sustain both herself and Oliver for several years. It would be her means to set up a new home and allow her time to obtain a position of some sort and build a new life for the two of them—one filled with happiness and love.
For there was no love at Blackwood Estates, save the love she had for her son, and Caroline had given up hope that Reginald would ever love her. It was not that she had not reached this realization before, but she had taken her vow to remain loyal to her husband seriously even when he did not.
Miss French had remained another evening after the garden incident and then had disappeared for the two days that followed. Now she had returned and was in the company of Reginald once again.
“You are restricted to the sitting room and the gardens,” Reginald had informed her. “And your bedroom, of course. Miss French and I have…business to conduct and do not wish to be disturbed.” He put his arm around the woman’s waist and pulled her close to him, making her giggle.
Any sting such actions would have brought on before no longer did so now. Caroline no longer cared enough to feel jealousy over the women with whom her husband shared his bed. No, even the fact that he flaunted the women in front of her no longer bothered her. However, he had begun to include Oliver in those flauntings, and that only fueled her anger.
A blind fool could have seen that what Reginald exposed to his son would only twist the boy’s mind. That had been the deciding factor to make her escape. If Oliver was forced to grow up under these teachings, she feared that one day he would become as sinister as his father, and she would not allow that to happen.
“Mother,” Oliver said, “do you like it?”
Caroline blinked to clear away the cobwebs from her mind. She had come outside to sit on a bench in order to get some air and remove any opportunity for Miss French to wander into the sitting room with one pretense or another. Caroline recognized the woman’s propensity to brew up trouble, and trouble was one thing of which Caroline did not need. She now had her plans on which to focus, and any distraction would be detrimental to those plans. She turned to the boy before her, a stem of lilacs in his hand and an expectant look on his face.
“Oh, Oliver, they are beautiful! Are they for me?”
“Yes,” the boy replied. “My mother deserves all the best flowers in the world.” He thrust the stem toward her, and her heart warmed.
She put the flowers to her nose and breathed deeply. “Oh, they are quite lovely,” she said. “What a nice thing to do for me.”
The boy gave her a proud grin. “I like to do nice things for you.” Then he glanced around, lowered his voice, and cupped his hand beside his mouth. “Father wants me to be nice to Miss French, but I don’t like her much. I think she’s mean.”
“How so?”
“She calls me a nuisance. Why doesn’t Father tell her off as he does you?”
It was difficult to maintain her smile, for her heart was caught in her throat. She could never tell the boy, at least not at such a young age, that his father was not a good person. It would not be until he was much older, and by then he more than likely would see that for himself. Now, however, she wished to ease the boy’s worry.
“Your Father cares.” The words attempted to choke her as she said them, but she pressed forward. “He has just been busy as of late.”
She feared that Oliver would reject her excuse, but to her delight, the boy nodded.
Oliver turned and smiled, and Caroline followed his gaze to see what had brought on such a reaction.
Philip stood clipping a hedge not far from where she sat. The man had been kind to her that day the previous week, but he had not overstepped his bounds in any way since. He had a gift for gardening, and he completed his work admirably. She was glad he kept his distance; she liked the man—he had been kind to her—and she did not want to see him lose his position if the Duke found them speaking to one another when he was in one of his moods.
“I like him,” Oliver stated. “He is always nice to me. Can he be my father instead of Father?
“Oliver Hayward!” Caroline gasped. “Do not say such things ever again. You have a father.”
The boy lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”
She ruffled his hair and smiled. “Run along and play. Dinner will be soon.”
The boy nodded and then turned
and walked over to Philip. The two talked, and then Philip patted Oliver on his back.
He will make a good father one day, she thought. Letting out a sigh, she wished that one day she could find a man. A man who made those around him feel welcome with just his smile—that is, what she could see of his face. She imagined it was a handsome face, although she had yet to see it outright, and she wondered why he allowed his hair to nearly conceal it.
Rising from the bench, she walked over to the gardener as he turned his attention to a large oak tree.
As she approached, Philip stopped and bowed. “Your Grace.”
“Did I not request you call me Caroline?” she asked. “At least in private?”
“You did,” he replied with a nod. “May I do something for you?”
“You may. I wish to see your face, for it is always concealed behind your hair.”
He laughed. “I do not wish to argue with you, but may I ask why?”
“You may ask, but I do not have to reply. Regardless you must do as I say anyway.” She tried to hide her mirth but failed miserably.
It was quiet for a moment, and she wondered if he was going to defy her. This, of course, only increased her curiosity. Was he hiding something behind his hair? She had not seen any sign of deformity, nor had any of the servants gossiped about it—not in her presence, that is.
Finally, he brought his hand up and pulled back the dark hair. Her breath caught in her throat, for he had to be one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. He had a defined jawline, a slightly upturned nose, and eyes the color of a stormy sky, and she felt a strange heat in the pit of her stomach she had never felt before.
“Thank you, Mr. Butler.”
He gave her an amused smile and allowed his hair to fall back over his face, which she found disappointing. Not only was he handsome, but he also had a kindness about him, and for a moment, she considered telling him of her plans to escape. Perhaps she could even enlist his aid. Not as a love interest, of course, but as someone to help look after her and Oliver.
Regency Hearts Boxed Set Page 44