The Duke's Marriage Mission

by Deborah Hale

  “Why are you bringing all this up now?” he demanded. “You were the one who told me I should do everything in my power to keep Leah at Renforth Abbey. I was only trying to follow your advice for a change.”

  “By proposing marriage?” Althea fairly shrieked. “I only meant for you to offer her a higher salary or promise to redecorate her room, not make her your duchess!”

  “Those things would never have worked,” Hayden insisted in an effort to silence his sister and the doubts she had begun to raise in him. “Leah would not care about them enough to give up her freedom.”

  The moment those words were out, they turned to plague him. Would marriage to him inflict the loss of liberty Leah most feared? If she felt confined and rebelled against it, would he be compelled to tighten his hold on her as he had on Celia?

  “You were right when you said Kit needs Leah,” he continued, determined to persuade Althea and himself that he had done the right thing. “Once we are married there will be no fear of him losing her. I am sorry if the resulting tattle inconveniences you, but surely Kit’s welfare is worth a little sacrifice.”

  “What about Miss Shaw and the sacrifice she will make?” Althea demanded. “Is she prepared to assume all the responsibilities of a duchess and the mistress of this house? Will you keep her hidden away in the country for the rest of your lives or will you bring her to London one day and subject her to the scrutiny of Society? Does the poor girl realize you only want to marry her for the sake of your son?”

  Until the instant Althea fell silent, Hayden was not aware of how loud their argument had grown. But her questions were not ones he could readily answer. He had not considered the additional restrictions Leah might endure as the wife of a duke and the object of cruel gossip. As for whether she knew he was only marrying her for Kit’s sake, he was far from certain whether that was true.

  During the shaken silence that followed his sister’s questions, a faint high-pitched sound drew Hayden’s attention to the library window he had not realized was half open. He recognized it as the whimper of a creature in pain. Had Kit’s dog been injured?

  But when his gaze flew toward the sound, it was not a wounded animal he saw, but the stricken face of Leah Shaw. He had never imagined her features could look so deathly pale, nor her hazel eyes so full of anguish. How much of his quarrel with Althea had she overheard and what had she made of it?

  Leah gave a violent start, as if she’d just realized he was aware of her presence. Then she turned and fled, confirming Hayden’s fear that she had overheard far too much. In that wretched instant, all his plans and hopes for the future seemed to shatter and collapse into dust.

  She must get away from this place. She could not bear to remain another night under Hayden’s roof!

  Those thoughts spurred Leah as she ran down the lane that led away from Renforth Abbey. Desperately she concentrated on that objective and on putting one foot in front of the other. If she slackened her pace or allowed her thoughts to drift, memories of the past half hour would surely ambush her. She could not bear it if they did.

  To think how happy she had been such a short time ago. Savoring her success in setting Kit free. Looking forward to being more than just his teacher. Anticipating a kind of life she’d once thought she could never want, only to discover that she did... provided she could share it with the right man. What a gullible fool she’d been to believe a man like Hayden Latimer could want her for herself.

  “Leah!” His voice rang out behind her. “Where are you going? Please stop so we can talk.”

  “No!” She pushed herself to move faster so he would know she meant it. “I don’t want to listen to you anymore. I have heard quite enough!”

  She’d been out in the garden with Kit, his dog and the young footman who was training to care for the boy. One of the maids had come looking for Hayden, saying his sister had arrived and was anxious to see him. Immediately Leah wondered if Lady Althea had come to dissuade her brother from his mad whim to wed his son’s governess. If so, she could not abide the thought of being talked about behind her back. Whatever Hayden’s sister had to say, Leah had been determined to hear it for herself.

  And she had, as she hurried past the library.

  “You heard too much.” Hayden’s voice sounded closer. He was gaining on her, drat him! “But there is still more you need to hear, and you will hear it if I have to chase you all the way to London.”

  Coming from some people, that might have been only a ridiculous overstatement, but Leah knew Hayden’s resolute nature. If he said he would pursue her as far as necessary, then he would. Not that he would be obliged to go all the way to London. Already her legs felt like jelly and every sharp gasp of air stabbed her lungs when she inhaled. Yet she resisted the urging of her body to stop and have it out with Hayden. If she must speak to him again, she needed time for her heart to heal enough that she could make a bitter jest of her feelings and pretend they had not run so deep. But clearly he was determined to humiliate her further by forcing her to betray feelings he did not return.

  Very well then. She stopped abruptly and spun about to confront him. If he would force her listen to whatever excuses he might contrive, she would make certain he got an earful as well.

  When she saw how close Hayden had come to catching her, Leah was glad she had decided to face him on her own terms. The only thing she wanted less than being compelled to talk to him would be surrendering to his touch. It humiliated her to think how he had used it to stir her feelings for him while he remained unmoved.

  “What is your plan now?” She employed every ounce of will to subdue her ragged breath. “Do you intend to fetch me back to your house by force and lock me away so I can never leave?”

  “Don’t be... ridiculous.” Hayden skidded to a halt, chest heaving beneath his well-cut blue coat. “I have no intention... of keeping you... against your will.”

  They had reached the top of the rise where the lane began to wind through the trees. Nearly a year ago Leah had first glimpsed the beauty of Renforth Abbey from this spot. In January she had returned from Berkshire to a warm welcome. Today, was she seeing Hayden’s house for the last time? With ruthless force Leah quelled any traitorous feelings of regret. Better never to see the place again than be imprisoned there.

  “Do you not?” she challenged Hayden. “But I thought you would do whatever it takes to keep Kit’s governess at Renforth Abbey. Now that your despicable marriage mission is exposed, a lock and key is what it will take.”

  He flinched from her scathing indictment as if from a series of hard cudgel blows. “I am sorry you heard... what you heard. The truth is not nearly as bad as it must have sounded if only you will listen.”

  “The truth.” Leah pronounced the word as if it belonged to some incomprehensible foreign language. “That would be a refreshing change. Are you certain you would recognize it? You do not seem to have a close acquaintance.”

  “I suppose I deserve that,” Hayden admitted. “But I swear I never meant to deceive you. It is true I wanted you to stay and continue the fine progress you have made with Kit since you came to Renforth Abbey. Marriage was the only means I could conceive for keeping you with us... permanently. But if I deceived anyone, it was myself more than you.”

  He looked so guilty, repentant and miserable that Leah was hard-pressed not to pity him. Sternly she reminded herself of everything he had told his sister—things he had begun to confess. She had let down her guard and allowed herself to care for him when he only wanted her skill and her service, not her heart.

  “How did you contrive to deceive yourself?” She narrowed her eyes.

  Hayden hung his head. “By virtuously pretending I was only marrying you for Kit’s sake when the truth is I wanted to prevent you from leaving me. I began to sense it a while ago. But it was only when I saw you running down this lane that I knew for certain I could not abide the thought of losing you. I fell in love with you, Leah, something I never intended—something I pers
uaded myself I did not want. Too often for me love has ended in loss. With your penchant for freedom I knew you were the last woman in the world I should allow myself to care for because I was bound to lose you. But my heart had its own ideas in the matter.”

  His words were a siren’s song that could draw her in so easily if she let them. But in to where? A tender trap of the kind her grandmother had warned her against? Many women might leap at the opportunity to wed a kind, handsome duke and become the mistress of a great house, but Leah had overheard Lady Althea as well as her brother. In many ways the life of a nobleman’s wife was more constrained than other women’s, trussed-up by bindings of duty and propriety that increased the higher one climbed on the ladder of society. The only ladies with less independence than a duchess were those of the Royal Family. What advantages of rank or fortune could compensate for that loss?

  Even if Hayden truly loved her, something of which she was still not persuaded, would it be enough?

  “How can I be certain you mean any of that?” It would be far easier to walk away if she could cling to the belief that he did not truly care for her. “There is nothing you would not do or say to benefit your son. The irony is that Kit does not need me as much as you believe. He only needs you to keep on opening his world and you can do that without me if you set your mind to it.”

  “How can I prove I love you?” Hayden’s features clenched in a look of deep perplexity.

  In spite of herself, Leah ached to soothe away his troubles. Part of her longed for him to persuade her of the feelings he professed. The longer he stood there with his brow furrowed, searching his mind and heart for the answer, the more she wished he would simply open his arms and invite her to discover the truth of his feelings in the depth of his embrace. But he did not.

  “Well?” she prompted him after what seemed like an eternity of suspense. “Can you think of nothing at all?”

  It seemed perhaps he had, for his eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly open. But that instant of illumination was followed by one of intense anguish, the like of which Leah had only seen when he feared for the welfare of his beloved son.

  “I reckon there is only one way I can show how much I care for you.” The corners of Hayden’s lips curved upward, but the shadow of heartbreak in his eyes made it a smile of profound regret.

  “What is that, pray?” Leah did not like the sound of it.

  “By letting you go, of course.”

  The moment he spoke, she knew he was right. Recalling what his sister had said about the sort of wife he needed, she feared the kindest thing she could do for Hayden was to grant him his freedom as well.

  Chapter Fifteen

  THE GRIEF OF every love he had lost over the years besieged Hayden’s heart at once, begging him to recant his intention to let Leah walk out of his life. They urged him to cling to her with all his might—not only for his own sake but for Kit’s.

  What about her sake? The whisper of a newborn resolve inquired. Must that not count for something? If he truly loved her as he claimed, should he not place her happiness above every other consideration, including his own?

  If he continued to stand there staring into her eyes, which he wanted to believe held a plea to change his mind, his determination would surely crumble beneath a weight of fear and longing it could not sustain. He forced his feet forward, one step at a time, away from the safe solitude of Renforth Abbey.

  “W-where are you going?” asked Leah.

  Did he fancy a plaintive note in her query or was that only left over from the distress of hearing how he had tried to entrap her into marriage?

  “I intend to walk you to the village,” he replied in a gruff, choked voice that he feared might break at any moment. He refused to let it—not out of pride but because he knew too well the tender heart Leah hid behind her facade of impudent defiance. He did not want her insisting she would stay and wed him out of pity. If she tried, he was not certain he would be strong enough to refuse.

  “I will see you safely situated at the inn for the night,” he continued with the same dogged determination that kept him walking. “Tomorrow I will fetch your possessions from Renforth Abbey and bring Kit to say goodbye.”

  He heard her scurry to catch up with him. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to go back ho—to the house and let me do my own packing? I could leave tomorrow and say goodbye to Kit then.”

  Leah was right as usual. Her suggestion did make more sense in all respects except one. “If I get you back under my roof, I am not certain I could master my selfish inclinations and let you leave tomorrow. Besides, I thought you would be pleased to have Kit make an excursion to the village, whatever the reason.”

  “I... am, of course.” She did not sound pleased. “I hope it will not distress him to have me go away so suddenly.”

  Hayden could see her out of the corner of his eye as they trudged along the wooded lane. The trees were all in full leaf. Lacy ferns edged the narrow path, their greenery relieved by scattered wildflowers in shades of white, yellow and pink. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves while a high, clear trill of birdsong pealed from some secret perch.

  If he had walked this lane with Leah yesterday, all the colors would have appeared more vivid and the sounds would have created pleasing harmonies. Now his whole world seemed to have fallen into shadow, and he wondered if it would ever emerge into sunshine again.

  “I expect it will upset Kit to see you leave.” What was the point in pretending otherwise? “But you have shown me my son is not made of spun glass. He is quite capable of surviving a bump or a chill or a disappointment. Besides, he has other resources now—his dog, his playmates, his correspondents. And I will engage another governess or a tutor for him.”

  No doubt Kit would weather Leah’s going far better than he. Hayden wondered how he had managed for so long to deceive himself that he must keep her at Renforth Abbey for his son’s sake. “I do not want you to fret that I will return to my former ways simply because I do not have you around to push me.”

  “That is reassuring.” Leah sounded more subdued than Hayden had ever heard her.

  “I cannot pretend it will be easy.” He forced himself to keep talking in an effort to persuade Leah and himself that everything would be all right, when his heart warned him otherwise. “But nothing of any lasting value ever is.”

  Did that apply to their feelings for one another as well? He wondered. His brief courtship with Celia had been blissfully smooth, leaving their love unprepared to weather the shoals and storms it would later face. His love for Leah had developed slowly and warily, building upon a strong foundation of respect, gratitude and sympathy. Now it faced the greatest test of all—one that experience warned him would not likely yield the result he wished.

  This time Leah did not reply, leaving Hayden to wish he could see into her heart to know what she was feeling. Did she believe his declaration of love, coming as it did with a contradictory insistence that she must go away?

  “Do you recall I once started to tell you what happened after my grandmother died? We were interrupted and I never got the chance to finish.”

  Later, he had considered it unwise to raise the subject with a woman whose hand he was trying to win. That no longer mattered, now. Besides he had come to view those past events in quite the opposite way.

  “I remember,” said Leah, but she did not invite him to tell her more. Perhaps she did not want to hear.

  Hayden refused to be put off. This might be his last opportunity to tell her. “Though my grandmother was old and had been failing for some time, her death affected me more than I expected. She had been one constant fixture in my life. I had hoped if she could hang on until her great-grandchild was born, it would revive her somehow.”

  Leah made no effort to stop him talking, so he continued. “I can only imagine how gloomy Renforth Abbey must have been for Celia that winter with no company but a morose, grieving husband. One day when she could not bear it any longer, she ordered the
carriage and started for London. It was hours before I discovered she had gone. I rode after her and fetched her back, which she did not take well. By the time we arrived home, Celia was in labor, though the baby was not due for some weeks.”

  By now Hayden sensed attentiveness in Leah’s silence.

  “My wife was so exhausted from the journey; she did not survive Kit’s birth. It is a wonder he did, poor little mite. For years, I blamed myself for not keeping a closer watch on Celia to prevent her from travelling in her condition. I used that regret to justify my efforts to protect my son at all costs, even the cost of his happiness. Now I realize I was to blame for what happened to my wife and child, but not in the way I believed all these years. If I had not clung so tightly to Celia, she might not have been driven to escape. I cannot risk anything like that happening to you. I would rather give you up than destroy whatever feelings you have for me by clinging to you.”

  “You were not to blame for what happened to your wife!” The words burst from Leah’s lips almost before Hayden finished. “She had a choice and she chose unwisely. You cannot be certain what she might have done if you had acted differently. And you cannot let the past hold your future hostage!”

  He knew she meant it kindly, and indeed she was probably right. But for some reason her words struck him the wrong way. “You are a fine one to talk. Has your past never held you back? We have both suffered losses, Leah. Mine may have made me cling too tightly to those I care about, but yours have made you reluctant to care at all. You call it independence and freedom, but are you certain those are not brave sounding names for running away? How free are you, truly, if you cannot allow your heart the freedom to love?”

  The only answer he received was a short, sharp hiss as Leah sucked in her breath. She stiffened, too, but she did not reply. Was that because she could not believe he was right for a change? Or had his harsh insight wounded her too deeply for words?