The Duke's Marriage Mission

by Deborah Hale

  “Please do not be angry with them.” Leah glanced over her shoulder at him with a beseeching look he was powerless to resist. “If the garden has been deserted for so long, why should someone not make use of it? I believe your grandfather would approve of others amusing themselves in a place he and your grandmother were once happy.”

  “I believe he would,” Hayden mused. It would be better than having the place shut up and going to seed.

  “I am glad we agree.” Leah jumped off the swing in midflight, squealing as she almost lost her balance.

  Hayden flew toward her and caught her arms, steadying her on her feet. She made no effort to pull away, so he hung on longer than propriety allowed.

  “I would like Kit to meet the tenant children.” Leah stared deep into his eyes, willing him to approve. “I believe it would be good for them to work together to bring this old garden back to life.”

  Hayden heaved a sigh. “You do not believe in taking one step at a time, do you? Or even two. Will you next suggest I ought to get Kit his own hot air balloon?”

  Leah laughed at his exaggeration. “If you have already agreed to let him come here, what could it hurt to have the company of other children? He loves exchanging letters with my friends’ youngsters but that is no substitute for flesh-and-blood playmates.”

  “What could it hurt?” Hayden repeated. “You are right to say there are worse things Kit could suffer than illness or injury. What if those children want nothing to do with him because he cannot run and play as they can? What if they ridicule him or impose upon him?”

  “Those were not the difficulties I foresaw,” Leah replied, challenging him yet reassuring at the same time. “They are ‘dangers’ any child may face and hopefully overcome. Would they be so much worse for Kit than boredom or loneliness?”

  By now the vivid colors had faded from the horizon leaving a plump yellow moon master of the night sky with thousands of tiny twinkling stars for company.

  “Are you afraid your son might make new friends and you will be obliged to share his affections?” Leah asked.

  Her question managed to do what propriety could not. Hayden abruptly released his gentle grasp upon her arms. “Don’t be ridiculous! I love Kit. You know that. I do not want to see him hurt. Surely you must know from that wretched charity school how cruel children can be to any they perceive as weaker than themselves.”

  “I do,” Leah admitted with a sigh that pierced his heart. “Did I ever tell you about the big girls who used to stand around the fire warming themselves and blocking heat from reaching the little ones? If we did not wolf down our food at meals, they would take whatever we had left once they finished their own portions.”

  Outrage swept through Hayden like fire fanned by a strong wind. “Your teachers should have protected the smaller girls!”

  Protectiveness was the ruling trait of his character. He could not fathom how others could stand by and permit the big and strong to run roughshod over the small and weak.

  “They should,” Leah murmured, “but the big girls curried favor by telling tales on the rest of us for any misbehavior, no matter how trivial.”

  How much of that had she come in for? By the grief in her tone Hayden suspected Leah had been a prime target. It made him feel unbearably helpless that there was nothing he could do to change what had happened to her.

  His feelings were too powerful to deny some outlet. Before he knew what he was doing, his feet bore him back toward her. He fumbled in the shadows for her hands. Then he raised her palms to his lips and anointed them with tender kisses. If only he had the power to take those scars away—the ones on her hands and even deeper ones upon her heart.

  Any misguided warning her grandmother had planted in her mind about the institution of marriage must have been reinforced a hundredfold by that other wretched institution. Was it any wonder she feared giving anyone power over her for fear they would abuse it—even the power of love?

  A faint gasp escaped Leah’s lips when he began to kiss her hands. The sound struck Hayden like a blow and made him realize what he was doing. In some ways this gesture was more intimate than a kiss on the lips—it certainly felt that way to him.

  “Forgive me for taking such a liberty!” he pleaded. “I only meant to...”

  His voice trailed off. How could he explain what he scarcely understood himself?

  But when he tried to release her hands, Leah kept hold of his. “I know what you meant and it was kindly done. But do not pity me too much. I may have learned painful lessons about cruelty at the Pendergast School but I also learned of generosity, loyalty and kindness. Those lessons were well worth the price. Do not deny Kit that opportunity. Love cannot prevent all harm, but it can provide strength and solace to triumph over whatever trials life may bring.”

  Her words carried a ring of truth that even his deeply ingrained protectiveness could not deny.

  “It will not be easy.” That was an almost ridiculous understatement.

  “Of course it won’t.” Somehow Leah’s frank acknowledgement of the difficulty reassured him more than any glib words of encouragement. “But I do not believe it will be as hard as you fear, either. Not long ago you asked me to close my eyes and trust you to lead me. Now I must ask you to trust me. Can you do that?”

  Could he? Trust was far too close to other vulnerable feelings he strove to repress until he could be entirely certain of Leah. He feared his efforts were not going so well.

  “I can try.” Even that tepid admission came out with painful effort.

  Yet he felt amply rewarded when Leah raised his hands and grazed her lips over his knuckles. “Then perhaps I can too.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I WILL NOT say I told you so,” Leah teased Hayden gently a month later as they stood in the walled garden watching Kit playing with the tenant children. “But I cannot deny I might be thinking it.”

  Some of the children were digging in the earth, pulling weeds and sowing flowers from the Renforth plant nursery. One boy was pushing his brother on the swing, while Kit and a girl were taking turns throwing a stick for his dog, Goldie, to retrieve.

  “You would have every right to.” Hayden’s voice pealed with sweet satisfaction. “Not only is Kit happier than I have ever seen him, he is better tempered too. Not being the focus of everyone’s attention has made him less willful. That was a boon I did not expect.”

  Leah nodded, her gaze lingering on the boy with unmistakable affection. “I was afraid you were going to call a halt to the whole thing that first day when the other children crowded around, asking Kit about his chair and why he couldn’t walk.”

  “If you had not held me back and reminded me to trust you, I might have whisked him into the house and sent the other children away.” Hayden’s tone betrayed the effort it had cost him to restrain his protective urges and how grateful he was that she had helped him succeed. “Now I see they were only curious. Once Kit explained his condition to them, they seemed to take it for granted.”

  Knowing how difficult all these changes had been for Hayden over such a short period, Leah could not help admiring him all the more. He had braved his deepest fears for the sake of his son... and for her sake as well. After he had gone to such lengths to change in the way she needed, how could she not try to do the same for him?

  During the past weeks, as she watched Kit take step after step toward greater liberty, Leah had sought to give free rein to her feelings for Hayden. She had allowed herself to imagine a future at Renforth Abbey as wife, mother and duchess. At first the prospect of those ties had frightened her with the permanence and weight of responsibility they carried. But when she considered the alternative, leaving this place and the man and child for whom she had come to care so deeply, marriage seemed the lesser of two evils. Perhaps she would discover that the benefits of wedlock far outweighed the risks.

  Now the time was fast approaching when she must make her choice. She could not postpone it any longer.

&n
bsp; “I received a letter the other day.” Her mouth felt dry as she spoke and her chest constricted, as if by an old-fashioned corset. “From Admiral DeLancey’s wife about the position she offered me at Christmas. It seems they have decided to leave for the Continent a fortnight earlier than expected. She wants to know if I will still be able to accompany them.”

  Hayden reacted as if she had informed him of the admiral’s intention to attack Renforth Abbey.

  Turning toward Leah, he seized her hands in a grip so tight it was almost painful. The gaze that bore down upon hers was much alarmed. “Surely you do not mean to agree. Kit still needs you and so do I. We would be quite lost without you!”

  What would become of them if she left? Leah tried to imagine. Might Kit catch a cold or might one of his new friends call him a name? If such a setback occurred when she was no longer there to support Hayden, would his doubts and fears get the better of him? Would he tighten restrictions upon Kit until they ended up in the same intolerable situation where she had first found them?

  “I suppose I could make my apologies to the DeLanceys and renew my position as Kit’s governess for another year.” A spasm of regret gripped Leah at the prospect of abandoning her dream of travelling abroad.

  Hayden’s grasp eased a little, but he gave a decisive shake of his head. “That would be preferable to losing you, but it would only delay the day of reckoning. So many times during these past weeks I have wanted to propose to you, but each time I put it off because I feared it might be too soon and you would refuse.”

  He glanced toward the children, who were all so engaged in their own activities that they paid no attention to Kit’s father and governess. “I was planning a special evening with the proper atmosphere to ask for your hand, but I find I cannot wait another moment to speak. Please, my dearest Leah, put an end to my anxiety and say you will do me the great honor of agreeing to become my wife! I promise I will devote the rest of my life to making you happy.”

  Leah had no doubt he would do everything in his power to keep that promise. She had never known a man willing to give so generously of himself. The prospect of having someone to care for her and protect her was vastly appealing after a lifetime of fending for herself. More than that, she longed to care for him in ways no one else could. She would fill the void in his heart carved out by so many losses. She would encourage him to let hope for the best rule his actions rather than fear of the worst.

  “Thank you for being so patient.” Her gaze ranged over his features, which had become so dear to her. Hayden appeared years younger than he had when they first met. The shadows of exhaustion beneath his eyes had been banished. The fine lines of worry etched upon his brow had relaxed. His mouth was far more apt to curve into a warm smile than settle into an anxious frown. “And for the honor of your proposal. Just as you have made the effort to overcome your fears for Kit, I have fought to overcome my... reservations about marriage.”

  “Have you succeeded?” Hayden looked from her face to their clasped hands and back. Such was the power of his gaze that everything around them seemed to dissolve. The voices of the children receded as if they were much farther away. The beating of her heart grew louder in Leah’s ears than anything outside the snug sphere that seemed to enclose them.

  “Perhaps not as well as you have,” she confessed. Then before the shadow of disappointment darkened his gaze more than she could bear, she added, “But enough that I feel able to accept your proposal.”

  “You do?”

  The outpouring of relief, gratitude and joy Leah sensed from him drowned out her last few nagging doubts. When he leaned toward her, she lifted her face and tilted her head as instinct urged her, until their lips met in a kiss of tender affection that knew no bounds.

  For a span of time measured only by the beating of their hearts, she and Hayden lingered in their own private garden, where trust and love had blossomed and fears were no more than troublesome weeds to be plucked up and cast out.

  Often during the following fortnight, Hayden was tempted to pinch himself to be certain he had not imagined that afternoon in the garden when Leah had at last accepted his proposal. During the wondrous kiss that sealed their betrothal, it felt as if one final burden had fallen from his shoulders, leaving his spirit free to soar.

  Leah would not abandon him and Kit. She would stay and together they would build his son a happy future that balanced his safety and health with increasing independence. He would care for Leah too, as no one in her past had done properly. He would do everything in his power to make up for all the deprivations she had suffered. He would apply the important lessons she had taught him about his son’s need for freedom to his relationship with her as well.

  Today he strode through the cloisters with such a bounce in his step that he wondered if he ought to add weight to his boots to keep from floating up to the vaulted ceiling. With the wedding date only a month away, Renforth Abbey was bustling with life as it had not done for many years. The servants were busier than many of them had ever been—scrubbing floors, airing rooms, beating rugs, polishing windows and chandeliers. But rather than grumbling about the extra work, they all seemed reenergized. Gibson was fairly bursting with industry.

  The chapel doors had been thrown open, allowing Hayden to peer in and check on the work going forward there. The stone floor was being scrubbed by several fresh-faced housemaids who chattered away as they worked. A pair of nimble young footmen perched on ladders polishing the finely carved rood screen with linseed oil. Hayden reminded himself to ask Leah what sort of flowers she wanted to decorate the chapel for their wedding ceremony.

  Hearing the approach of swift, light footsteps—clearly a woman’s—he glanced back down the cloisters, expecting to see Leah. His smile faltered only a little when he recognized his sister. He and Althea might have had their differences over the years, but she was responsible for propelling Leah into Kit’s life and his. For that service he would be forever grateful.

  “Althea!” He opened his arms to her. “This is a pleasant surprise indeed. What brings you down to the country when the Season is at its height? The wedding is not for another month.”

  “Thank goodness for that!” His sister avoided Hayden’s embrace. “It gives me thirty days to talk some sense into you. To think I should have to urge caution upon you—what is the world coming to?”

  “Talk sense to me?” Hayden shook his head, bewildered. “Urge caution? What are you on about? Do you disapprove of my marriage plans?”

  Althea threw up her hands. “You talk as if you expected me to be delighted. I do not know what has come over you.”

  Her glance strayed toward the chapel, making Hayden look too. The maids appeared frozen in place, their scrub brushes stilled and their heads lifted, staring toward him and his sister.

  “We need to talk,” said Althea as if that was not what they were doing already, “somewhere private.”

  Her voice rose in volume on that last word. As if on cue, the maids began scrubbing again, harder and faster, perhaps trying to make up for their lapse.

  “Very well.” Hayden nodded to indicate the way she had come. “The library should be quiet, since it does not need to be prepared for wedding guests.”

  His sister gave an inexplicable shudder then turned and marched back down the cloisters at a pace Hayden was hard-pressed to match. On the way to the library he tried several times to inquire why she objected to his marriage plans. Each question was met with bristling silence and a baleful glare.

  He could not fathom what had come over Althea. After all, she was one of Leah’s greatest admirers. At Christmas she had practically demanded he propose to Kit’s governess.

  The instant she swept into the library and he pushed the door closed behind them, his sister rounded on him and let fly the tirade she had clearly been bursting to unleash. “Have you taken leave of your senses, Hayden? Can you imagine what Grandmother would say if she knew you were planning to make a common governess the next Du
chess of Northam?”

  This sudden disapproval of his engagement was perverse, even for his sister. “When did you ever give a fig for what Grandmother would say? Besides, there is nothing common about Leah. She is one of the most uncommon women it has ever been my pleasure to meet. It was by far the greatest favor you ever did me when you sent her to Renforth Abbey. She has changed Kit’s life and mine. I cannot understand why you should object to my marrying her. I would not be the first nobleman to wed the woman who has taught and cared for his children.”

  Hayden’s reasoning did nothing to pacify his sister—quite the contrary. “Unfortunately, that is true. There has been a perfect epidemic of peers wedding governesses in the past few years. First there was Viscount Benedict, but he always was rather odd. Then Lord Steadwell followed his deplorable example and just last summer, the Earl of Hawkehurst. The dowagers of the ton are saying they should save themselves the expense of a Season by putting their marriageable daughters to work as governesses instead. Once word gets about that a duke has fallen prey to this madness, the gossip will be perfectly violent!”

  As had been the case for most of his life, his sister’s opposition only strengthened Hayden’s resolve. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared Althea down. “Then it is fortunate I live a quiet country existence and do not care a whit for Society gossip.”

  “I do not have that luxury.” His sister began to pace the perimeter of the library gesturing wildly as she spoke. “I should have seen this coming. Of course you would be starved for companionship, buried for years out in the midst of nowhere. I should have engaged a plainer governess, not one so much like poor Celia. But I thought you had learned your lesson. I thought you intended to dedicate the rest of your life to Kit.”

  Was Leah really so much like Celia? His sister’s words took Hayden aback. He had to admit, there were many similarities. Did he have a weakness for spirited, impulsive women because they added zest to his quiet, cautious life? But did those intriguing differences carry the seeds of future discord?