by Hale Deborah
“But none of them went away for Christmas.” Kit picked up the figure of a Lilliputian lady which resembled his governess. “Why did Miss Leah have to go?”
“She did not have to go.” Hard as Hayden tried to keep his voice from sharpening, he did not succeed. “Miss Shaw wanted to spend the holidays with her friends.”
“Are we not her friends?” Kit persisted. “Does she not like us anymore?”
His son’s innocent question took Hayden aback. Did Leah Shaw not enjoy their company? She certainly seemed fond of Kit. As for him, Hayden was not so sure. He told himself it did not matter, yet deep down he knew it did. Perhaps if he’d made himself more agreeable, Leah Shaw might not have felt the need to go elsewhere for Christmas, leaving her young pupil bereft.
“I am certain your governess does not dislike you, son. But Renforth Abbey is not the most festive place to spend Christmas. I reckon Miss Shaw hankered for a bit more Yuletide cheer.”
What sort of entertainments might she be enjoying at Lord Steadwell’s estate? Hayden wondered. Music, games... possibly dancing? Would she be the family’s only guest or might there be others—a brother or cousin of the baron, perhaps? The thought troubled him somehow.
“What does festive mean?” Kit asked.
Hayden tried to explain, but the activities that might be considered festive were all outside his son’s experience. That had never bothered him before. Such doings might have led to perilous excitement. Long ago, he had decided that what Kit did not know, he would not miss. Now he wondered if he had done right.
“Would you like to sit up at the table and put together one of your connecting puzzles?” he proposed by way of a diversion.
“I suppose.” Kit did not sound as eager as he had the past few days.
Did the child secretly wish he could have escaped Renforth Abbey with his governess for the merriment of Nethercross? Hayden tried to think of an activity that might amuse his son. “It is snowing out, you know. Shall I carry you over to the window so you can see?”
Kit immediately perked up.
“Will you, Papa?” The child sounded as if he had been offered a treat of unimaginable delight.
A spasm of pity for his son wrung Hayden’s heart—and not on account of Kit’s infirmity.
He nodded and smiled. “You seemed to enjoy it that other time with Miss Shaw.”
“But you didn’t.” Kit sounded puzzled by his father’s willingness to do something previously forbidden. “You got angry with her and sent her away. She would never do it again, though I asked and asked.”
Miss Shaw had respected his wishes even though she did not agree with them. That could not have been easy for someone so naturally rebellious. For some reason her unaccustomed restraint touched Hayden’s heart.
“Perhaps I was hasty in my judgment.” He fetched Kit’s warmest dressing gown and helped the child into it. “Perhaps I was... wrong.”
It was not an admission he was comfortable making. If he owned to being wrong once, Kit might begin to question all his future decisions. But his conscience would settle for nothing less than the truth.
“Besides,” he continued, “you are a good deal healthier now than you were last summer and I am strong enough to carry you safely without any danger of falling.”
“Miss Leah would not have slipped if you hadn’t shouted at her.”
“Are we going to look out at the snow or sit here talking?” Hayden bent forward to scoop his son into his arms.
“Not that way,” Kit protested. “Let me ride on your back like Miss Leah did.”
Hayden hesitated. With the boy cradled in his arms, he would be fully in control of Kit’s safety. Then he fancied he could hear Leah Shaw arguing that his son might need to feel more in control—the master of an imaginary steed rather than a babe in arms.
“Very well,” he agreed, contrary to long habit and his better judgment. “But you must promise to hang on tight.”
“I will.” Kit fairly trembled with excitement as his father shifted him to his back.
This type of excitement was not the same as the violent tantrums he so dreaded, Hayden realized with a pang of regret. He should not have denied his son the former out of fear of the latter. “Here we go. Now Kit, there is a difference between hanging on tight and actually throttling me.”
“I’m sorry, Papa.” The boy chuckled as if his father were joking, which he was, though not entirely.
When they reached the window, Hayden nudged back the curtains. Then he turned sideways so Kit could see outside. A light dusting of snow had carpeted the grounds and settled on the trees. More fat flakes drifted down from the sullen gray sky.
Kit gave a gasp of wonder. “It looks so different than it did before. Where have all the flowers gone?”
“They are sleeping for the winter,” Hayden replied. “They will grow again in the spring and the trees will sprout new leaves. Birds that have flown away to warmer places will return again.”
To everything there is a season. He recalled telling Leah Shaw that as an argument for keeping Kit snug and safe in his nursery, where one season was little different from the next. Now he wondered whether his long winter of grief and worry might have begun to thaw at last.
“What is snow?” asked Kit. “Where does it come from?”
Hayden explained as best he could about clouds and how the cold weather froze raindrops into delicate crystal flakes that melted again when warmed. As they stood staring out at the winter landscape and talking about it, the duke found himself gaining a whole new appreciation for the intricate workings of nature with its seasonal rhythm.
“I do believe Miss Shaw will have to add natural history to your studies when she returns,” he concluded. “I suspect you would find it very interesting.”
“Is that Miss Leah coming now?” asked Kit. “See the carriage.”
The child’s words sparked a flare of elation inside Hayden, as if someone had set off fireworks.
Reality extinguished them. “It cannot be her. That is a private travelling coach.”
If Miss Shaw had returned early, she would have hired a pony cart from the village, not this elegant equipage.
“I wonder who it is?” asked Kit.
“I believe it might be your Aunt Althea.” Hayden tried to stifle a quiver of foreboding.
What could have brought his sister to Renforth Abbey, unannounced, on New Year’s Day? And what trouble would she make?
“I hope the girls have not been too much trouble for you over Christmas, Leah.” Grace handed her friend a cup of tea as they sat together enjoying a rare moment of peace and privacy. “Miss Colbrooke is an excellent governess but she cannot begin to rival you for high spirits. Phoebe and Sophie have both asked if we can keep you on at Nethercross.”
“But not Charlotte?” Leah inquired with a mischievous grin.
She had sensed that her friend’s eldest stepdaughter did not approve of a grown woman who carried on like her younger sisters. In that respect Charlotte reminded her of the Duke of Northam.
“Do not mind Charlotte.” Grace offered Leah a plate piled high with biscuits and sandwiches. “She takes time to warm up to new people, but when she does there is no more devoted friend in the world.”
“She is clearly devoted to you.” Leah helped herself to several tempting morsels from the plate of refreshments. “That secures her my approval even if it is not entirely returned. The way she fetches you pillows and tries to keep you from being on your feet too long is quite touching. Once your baby is born I imagine she will be like a second mother.”
It had not been easy, coaxing Charlotte to accompany her sisters on a visit to Admiral DeLancey’s with their governess, who had returned the previous day from her Christmas visit. Only the promise of seeing Mrs. DeLancey’s handsome son had finally persuaded Charlotte to go, giving Grace and Leah this rare time alone.
“I am relieved that all three of the girls are pleased about the baby.” Grace laid a hand o
n her rounded belly with a sweet, brooding smile that reminded Leah of the Madonna in one of Lord Northam’s paintings.
Far too many things made her think of the duke and Kit and Renforth Abbey. Leah had hoped this visit would weaken her growing attachment to them, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect.
“Enough about me and mine,” said Grace. “I hope you have enjoyed spending Christmas at Nethercross as much as we have enjoyed your company. I could not bear the idea of you buried away on that remote estate at this time of year, with no merriment to speak of.”
“I have had a splendid time at Nethercross!” Leah assured her friend. “Skating with the girls and helping them decorate the house. Not to mention that jolly party you hosted on Boxing Day for your tenants and neighbors. But the best part of all has been seeing you so happy with your new family. No one deserves it more!”
“I am not certain I deserve such happiness at all,” Grace mused as she sipped her tea, “when I think how I secured my position at Nethercross under false pretenses and disguised myself from dear Rupert. But I am vastly grateful for the blessings I have received. Even if our circumstances were far more modest, I would count myself the most fortunate of women to have secured a loving husband and a happy family.”
Pleased as Leah was for her friend, she told herself she did not envy Grace. In spite of her delicate condition the poor woman had scarcely enjoyed a single moment’s rest during Leah’s entire visit. If she was not overseeing the smooth running of the large household, she was helping His Lordship with plans for the Boxing Day party or mediating squabbles among her stepdaughters.
It had made Leah reflect on how many more responsibilities her friend had as lady of the house than when she was simply a hired governess. A wife with children did not have the benefit of half days off or the freedom to come and go as she wished. Too many other people depended on her... and was that not a form of bondage?
“I hope with all my heart you are happy, too.” Her friend’s solicitous words stirred Leah from her thoughts. “Teaching that poor bed-ridden little boy must be quite heartbreaking at times.”
“Not in the least.” Leah wondered why she felt compelled to defend her pupil from Grace’s pity. “Kit does not feel sorry for himself nor do I. And he is no longer bedridden. He sits up every day for his lessons and meals. I am confident he can have a very fulfilling life if I can only persuade his father not to coddle him quite so much.”
Though Grace nodded, Leah sensed her friend was not entirely persuaded. “It must be disagreeable to be constantly at odds with the duke about what is best for his son.”
Leah laughed and shook her head. “You would not say that if you could hear our discussions. The duke and I have come to respect each other’s beliefs. I know he adores his son and would do anything to protect him. His Grace knows that I have Kit’s best interests at heart. The give and take between us has brought the boy greater freedom while protecting his health and safety. I look forward to making more progress this winter, then putting on a great push once spring comes.”
As she spoke of the duke and his son, Leah could no longer deny how much she missed them. Her holiday at Nethercross had been highly enjoyable, yet she found herself eager to get back to Renforth Abbey.
“It does sound like a rewarding endeavor,” Grace replied. “I hope you will succeed in winning more freedom for the boy. But speaking as a mother, I can sympathize with the duke’s desire to protect such a vulnerable child. It must be a very lonely life for him, poor man.”
Leah winced as if very strong, invisible hands had gripped her heart and squeezed. Was Hayden Latimer as lonely as Grace suggested? Was that why he had exhausted himself caring for Kit—so he would not have the time or energy to notice? Was it why he had invited her to dine with him some evenings and given her tours of his house? Not because he had any particular liking for her, but because he was desperate for any sort of company.
His motives for the attention he paid her made no difference, Leah told herself and tried to pretend she believed it.
“I’m so pleased you allowed Miss Shaw to stay, dearest,” Althea gushed as she and Hayden left the nursery after tucking Kit in for the night. “I was afraid you might dismiss the poor girl the minute she arrived.”
“I very nearly did.” Hayden tried to sound annoyed so his sister would not suppose he approved of her meddling in his life. Yet he could not bear to think what the past several months might have been like without Leah Shaw. “You had no right to engage a governess for Kit without my consent. And it was unfair of you not to warn Miss Shaw that her arrival would be unexpected.”
Althea waved away his complaints in her usual high-handed manner. “I knew it was no use asking since you were bound to refuse. But I hoped you might give Miss Shaw a try if she turned up unannounced. Now you must admit that having a governess has not done Kit a bit of harm. The dear little fellow looks as well as I have ever seen him.”
Much as he disliked conceding a point to his interfering sister, Hayden found he had no choice. “Very well. It was not your worst idea and you did make a good choice in Miss Shaw. She manages to make learning an enjoyable experience for Kit. I had no idea how clever he is until she began teaching him. Both Miss Shaw and I have been astonished at the progress he has made in his studies.”
“You’re welcome!” His sister beamed with satisfaction as they reached the dining room. “I know you detest it when I tell you what to do, but I only want what is best for Kit and for you.”
An unexpected impulse of gratitude and love for his sister swelled in Hayden’s chest. They were as different in temperament as two people could be. Consequently they had a history fraught with disagreement. But Althea did care for him and for Kit. She had been willing to risk his anger to give them what she believed they needed, the way he often did with his son.
As Gibson prepared to usher them in to dine, Hayden pulled his sister close for a brief but warm kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Althea.”
She seemed surprised by the gesture but responded with a tight squeeze before he drew back. “Your Miss Shaw must be a perfect treasure to have provoked such a display. I do wish she hadn’t gone away for Christmas so I could have gotten a full report from her. But I can hardly blame her for going. She did not seem the sort of person to appreciate the seclusion of Renforth Abbey as you do.”
She seized Hayden’s arm as he escorted her in to dinner. “One would scarcely know it was Christmas by the look of this place.”
Althea shook her head in disapproval of the modest trimming of holly and ivy around the base of the candlesticks in the middle of the table.
A flicker of his accustomed impatience with his sister flared, but Hayden tamped it down. Much as he disliked the idea that some action of his might have caused Leah Shaw to spend Christmas elsewhere, he knew the charge was not unjust. “I see no reason to burden my staff with the tasks of decorating the house when there is no one to notice. If I’d had any warning you intended to drop in on us, I might have put them to the effort after all.”
Hayden and his sister enjoyed a surprisingly congenial meal. He regaled Althea with a detailed account of Kit’s studies, while she inquired about Miss Shaw’s teaching methods. Hayden found that having an excuse to talk about his son’s governess raised his spirits.
After dinner they retired to the drawing room and continued their conversation.
“I did hope Miss Shaw would have done more to get Kit out of that stifling nursery.” Althea observed at last, “She seemed quite committed to it when I hired her.”
Hayden felt compelled to defend Leah Shaw. “No one could have been more enthusiastic in their efforts. The blame rests entirely with me, but she has made progress. I have assured her that once spring comes we can begin to bring Kit out.”
“I hope you will.” Althea sounded doubtful that he would follow through on his promise. “I am certain it will do the dear child a world of good.”
Having witnessed the imp
rovement in Kit’s health and spirits over the past months, Hayden could not disagree. Yet when he thought of the perils that might come with increased freedom, his neck linen seemed to tighten around his throat, making it difficult to breathe.
“I have one more piece of advice for you,” his sister continued, “since you appear to be more receptive than usual.”
In the interest of family harmony, Hayden ignored the dig. “What might that be?”
Althea gave a self-satisfied little smile. “If you have any sense at all—and I know you have more than is good for any one man—you will do whatever it takes to keep this remarkable Miss Shaw at Renforth Abbey.”
His sister’s words reminded Hayden that the term of Leah Shaw’s position would soon be half over. There was no question Kit had missed her very much since she’d gone on holiday. How might it affect the boy to lose his beloved governess permanently?
But what would it take to keep the lady at Renforth Abbey for as long as Kit needed her?
Chapter Nine
CONFLICTING FEELINGS CLASHED in Leah’s heart when she caught sight of Renforth Abbey again after a fortnight away. The sprawling, stately house looked as grand as when she had first glimpsed it in high summer. Indeed, with the ornamental waters frozen, the broad lawns crusted with snow and icicles sparkling on the turrets, the place reminded her of an austere beauty decked in white silk, lace and diamonds for her wedding.
Though it looked striking, the winter scene reminded her of the long dark days ahead. She would be all but buried alive on this secluded estate with no company but her invalid pupil and his solitary father.
Somehow thoughts of the duke and his son kept her from feeling quite so confined. She’d missed them in a way she had not missed anyone since taking leave of her school friends to make her way in the world. She was eager to see Kit’s new playthings and tell him all about her holiday. She hoped Lord Northam had not exhausted himself caring for the boy during her absence.
She was touched that he had thought to send a carriage to the village to fetch her. Her return to Renforth Abbey promised a much warmer reception than her original arrival. As the carriage drew nearer to the house, she glanced toward the nursery window, where a splash of cheerful bright pink caught her eye. As she puzzled over what it might be, she caught a flash of movement. It took her a moment to recognize two faces staring down at her and a hand waving in wide vigorous arcs.