“Lady Eleanor would never need know what happened between us while you played nursemaid to her sheep.” A wicked grin complimented the glow of his eyes.
Her watery legs were near useless. What he suggested without saying outright was something more than friendship. “I do not need that sort of friend.”
“You read me wrong, sweet Leah.” He dropped his hand from her face. “My greatest desire is the company of a well-spoken young woman. I haven't seen anyone beyond my staff and those at Lanthrop Downs in a solid month.”
“You could have the company of anyone. Couldn't you, Your Grace?”
“Goodwin.”
She dropped her gaze again. “Yes, of course.”
“I could, but I desired solitude for a time and I dread the trip to London. I could invite others here, but they would break my isolation while begging to be entertained.”
“Why is it that you need quiet time away from your peers?” She shouldn't have asked, but curiosity drove her. She'd been too long away from her own friends and family.
“They will spoil the hours I spend in my study and my riding time. Or haven't you noticed I like to ride? I have seen you out here, and I know you watch.”
Mortified heat made her toes curl. “Your horse is very beautiful. It is difficult not to notice him.”
“True, but is that all you notice?” He smirked.
The preening peacock. As though she had nothing better to do than watch him parade around on horseback. “I see that Jem has the fire going and if you wish to retain your good health, you should warm up before returning home.”
“Smart little thing you are. I look forward to getting to know you better, Miss Leah.” He swept her hand into his, kissed her gloved knuckles, then released her. For a moment he stared at her hands. “Such fancy gloves.”
“Borrowed from my lady when mine became too worn,” she blurted. “I doubt I will return them in such favorable condition.”
“Take care of Lady Eleanor's ovines and her gloves. It would be a shame if she terminated your employment before we had time to become proper friends.”
“Have no fears. Good shepherdesses are hard to come by.” She gestured toward the fire. “Now I insist you take care of yourself. No matter how much she detests company breaking her concentration, Lady Eleanor does not wish to see you become ill.”
“Too right. She might be required to come to my funeral if I perished.” His humor faded as he glanced toward Jem. “It might be wise to send the boy home. He's as wet and filthy as I am.”
Jem huddled near the wet ewe. Both shivered in the biting wind.
“I came to bring him supper, then send him on his way. He's been out since early this morning.” For all Goodwin's flirting, his concern charmed her more than anything. “There is apple tart, if you would like some.”
“Betty made it?”
She could all but hear Goodwin's stomach growling at the prospect. “Yes. Fresh last night.”
Allowing him to stay near her, to share food was a dangerous thing if she meant to keep her identity hidden, but how could she turn him away now? She owed him a debt for helping after the carriage accident in any case.
“I am not one to turn down the invitation to dine on tart by a fire.”
What could be the harm? Tomorrow she'd tell Michael to remind the Duke of Greenebuck that he'd best remain on his own property. It would be Lady Eleanor's doing, not hers. Well, bother. Hers, but not...it hardly mattered. The important thing was that Goodwin learn his boundaries. He couldn't coerce her into letting him visit or hunt on her land. No amount of niceties or flirting would change her mind.
A DUKE WORTH HIS SALT
CHAPTER SEVEN
Eleanor scratched at the scarf wound around her head. The wool itched her skin. When she drew her hand away, a tendril of dark brown hair wrapped around her finger. Letting Betty color her red tresses with walnut dye was something Eleanor might never get used to. Gone were the strands of red gold, replaced by brunette that shocked her each time she passed by the looking glass.
She'd startled Jem the next day by revealing her new color to him. Hopefully it would throw Goodwin off her trail should he begin to compare her identities. She tucked the hair back into her scarf. Several days had passed since Goodwin had saved her ewes and he hadn't come back to Lanthrop Downs. Michael hadn't relayed her warnings for the duke to stay away yet.
His absence was almost concerning.
“Jem, have you heard from our neighbor lately?”
The boy tore his gaze away from the flock. “Haven't seen him, Miss. Perhaps he's frightened of Lady Eleanor.” He grinned. “I thought that's what you wanted.”
“It is. I was only inquiring.”
Jem rubbed his mitten-covered hands together and blew on them. “I reckon he's holed up in his warm, cozy study with that book of his. He says you'd best grab hold when inspiration strikes.”
“What do you mean?”
“He's writing a book. About pirates and adventure. When it's finished, he's going to let me read it. The duke's the one who taught me to read.” Jem grinned. “Like a gentleman.”
“Truly?”
“He offered to teach Lizzie and Ann, but neither cared to learn. I can sound out most any word.” A frown tugged at the boy's features. “There aren't many books out this way.”
“We can remedy that if you like. But do not read while you're minding the sheep or supposed to be doing chores. The first time I catch you at it when you should be doing something else, I'll have your father flog you.” She couldn't help laughing as she teased him. Being around Jem was as comfortable as her own sisters. The rest of the servants watched themselves around her, even though she'd all but lowered herself to their stations.
“You wouldn't dare, Miss. You like me too well.” He glanced toward Griff and then his gaze roamed over the flock. “Besides, I'd never let them get too far from my sight. If anything's going to help restore Lanthrop House, it'll be our woolies.”
“You are right about that.” She leaned against the stone fence surrounding the acreage. “Perhaps you should drop in on His Grace. He might give you an update on his book.”
The boy shook his head. “He don't like it when he's interrupted. Besides, I can't leave you alone here.”
True, he'd been staying later and keeping her company. Or more likely to make sure she didn't run into trouble, but his reasoning grated her nerves. “Do not bother him personally if you can avoid it. Take the word of his servants. I insist. Besides, the sheep are in a pen and Griff is here to watch them. Nothing foul will happen.”
He folded his arms. “Neither Mum nor Dad will like it, Miss Leah. It's best if you go. You can do as you please anyway. They don't expect you to watch sheep all day.”
“Despite what they think of me, I have, haven't I?” Her servants expected her to shy away from the dull task, but she wouldn't let her upbringing overcome her duties to this place. “If I am to check on the Duke of Greenebuck, it will have to wait until Jack relieves us.”
Jem adjusted his cap. “May I speak freely?”
As though he never dared. Some of her irritation with him faded. “Why shouldn't you?”
“I think you like him.” Jem smirked. “The duke. You didn't mean to, but it's happened anyhow.”
“Jem Hodson, I never!” She swatted his arm. “That is untrue.”
“You get the same look around him as Ann does when she sees Jack.” He rubbed his arm with a mock wince. “You packed quite a bit of fury into that slap, Miss.”
“You haven't seen fury yet, you rascal. I do not like Goodwin in the least. I am grateful for his help saving my sheep. That is all.”
“Of course, my lady. Silly of me to think otherwise.” Jem winked. “So you won't be going to Glassodder Head to see about his well-being?”
Eleanor dragged her lower lip between her teeth. “I shouldn't.”
“I think you should. It's the neighborly thing to do. Seemed as though His Grace took a s
hine to Miss Leah. He might appreciate a visit from the pretty shepherdess.”
“You are a rascal of the worst sort, Jem.” She tried to smack him again, but he darted away. “Worse than my youngest sister, who's all fluff-headed.”
“Oh, go on. You know you want to visit him. If you take the path along the beach, it'll carry you straight to the place. Your curiosity won't rest till you've seen His Grace's manor anyway. That's all girls care about. Money and pretty houses.” He waved toward the other estate. “Ann and Lizzie are on about it all the time.”
He was teasing, but a pang struck her. “Money is not everything. Your family's love is more important.” After all, Michael's family seemed happy enough even if they weren't rich.
Jem sobered. “Right, Miss.”
Family was all Jem might ever have. He certainly wouldn't grow up to own a fine manor like the Duke's. Guilt nagged her for making him feel bad about his position in life.
“I am going for a little walk. I won't be gone long. Keep a sharp watch on my flock.” She pulled her cloak tighter.
“As always. Tell His Grace I said hello.” A twinkle came back to Jem's eye.
“I will be sure to.” As a servant, there was no reason she needed an escort or a chaperon to go to another's home, but what excuse could she give that would let his staff allow her inside? The only thing she could think of was the message she'd asked Michael to convey the next time he spotted Goodwin. She'd have to tell him herself.
Gently, of course. There was no need to offend him further.
* * * *
Daniel dropped his handkerchief on the desktop. The urge to let his head follow it took a moment to pass. If he moved so much as an inch, his blasted nose would likely become stuffed again. The morning after his sheep rescue, a head cold had attacked him with ferocity. What a reward for being nice to someone who didn't even like him.
A timid knock rattled the study door.
“Go away.” Aside from a fresh pot of hot water, he wanted nothing from his staff. For the time being, his sense of taste was in total ruins. Tea barely appealed.
“It's Leah, Your Grace.”
“Leah the shepherdess?” His heart skipped a beat. What the devil could she want with him? His attempts to sway her toward a relationship that benefited from more than friendship had been rejected.
“Yes, unless you know more than one Leah.”
The wicked tongued minx. But her cheeky answer shouldn't have surprised him. Why were they conversing through the door? “Come in.” He felt like ten kinds of hell and visitors were the last thing he cared to entertain, but she'd come to see him. It would be just his luck if Lady Eleanor had decided to allow him a visit.
Leah entered and gave a curtsy. “It seems I arrived just in time.”
“To see me right before I expire? I've been waylaid by a cold. I expect to pass into the Great Beyond any moment.” He already needed to blow his nose again. “Excuse me.” The crumpled handkerchief came into service once more. How mortifying to reveal he was no more than a mere mortal who fell to common illnesses. He'd barely finished blowing his nose before the coughing began.
“You should be in bed with a poultice.” A line formed between her eyes as she frowned. “What are you doing in here?”
“Writing this poor excuse for a book. Or attempting it.”
“The one Jem told me about. He's excited to read it, but do you think now is the best time to work on it?” She cast a disapproving look at the pages scattered across his desk. “It doesn't seem that you've accomplished more than creating a mess.”
Although she was right, he bristled. “I have written a new paragraph.”
“I am sure it's delightful, but perhaps your characters are better off if you take some rest. Return to it fresh in the morning if you feel better.”
“I am never going to feel better. I've felt awful the last few days.” He'd finally frightened the staff into staying away. No wonder they'd sent Leah up here on her own. “It is no use going to bed. I will simply cough and produce mucus there as well.”
“I'll make you an onion poultice. That will relieve the worst of your symptoms. I insist.” She unwound the scarf wrapped around her head. Dark strands of hair escaped the knot at the back. Leah's eyebrows were fair compared to the rest of her hair. The contrast was oddly unsettling.
“I pictured you with lighter hair.” He coughed again.
Her frown increased. “Sorry to disappoint. Take yourself to your chamber. I will make that remedy for you. It is startling that no one offered to before.”
“They did.” He cleared his throat, but the dratted thing itched in spite of it. “I did not see the use. Besides, I am trying to work.”
She clicked her tongue. “Do you wish for your health to worsen?”
“Not at all.”
“Then perhaps you will accept my advice.” With her hands on her hips, she looked frighteningly like his old governess. Some women were delicate flowers—others bossy creatures incapable of minding their own business. Leah was unarguably the latter.
“If it will help reveal the real purpose of your visit.” He rose, then rubbed the bridge of his stuffy nose.
“I—” She licked her lips. “Neither Jem nor I had seen you. We thought it might be important to check on your health. It's a good thing, because clearly you are not well.”
“This has nothing to do with Lady Eleanor? I am surprised she didn't have Betty write a terse note thanking me for saving her beasts, but threatening to shoot me if I returned.” He shouldn't take his grouchiness out on Leah. She'd done nothing to deserve it.
“I have not seen Lady Eleanor in a few days.” She curled her fingers into her scarf. “I cannot relay any messages from her, Your Grace.”
“Goodwin. I would prefer Daniel, but I will never get that from you, good little servant that you are.” He crossed the room. “I'll be in my bed. Join me as soon as you can.”
She blushed as prettily as any girl on parade for the Season. “I'll bring the poultice in a trice.”
“Tea too?”
Why not ask for a bedtime story as well, idiot boy?
His father's voice made him flinch.
“Goodwin?” Leah placed her hand on his arm. “Do you need assistance?”
“No, I shall drag myself across the floor and make it fine on my own. Don't you have some stinky bulbs to cut up?”
“Now I know why your staff is in hiding.” She pinched her lips together. “I will be along in a moment.”
He took his time making his way down the hall. His bed was still rumpled from leaving it this morning. Yesterday's clothes were piled in the corner. He'd threatened to fire his steward, Yanell, if he made the slightest bit of noise while straightening the room.
Exhausted, Daniel collapsed onto the bed. The prone position led to his nose stopping up seconds after he stretched out. Of course.
He rearranged the pillows to prop himself up and stared at the ceiling while he waited for Leah. He'd fully intended to get her into his bedchamber, but not this way.
Her hair, well, the darkness of it threw him. Perhaps because he'd thought of little else besides Lady Eleanor until he stumbled across Leah, he'd imagined her with red hair as well. Either way, she intrigued him as much as Lady Eleanor.
The stinging scent of onion preceded Leah into the room. Even in his state, Daniel couldn't miss it.
She carried a bowl and had a piece of flannel over one arm. She glanced around the room as though she'd never seen one before. Or perhaps she'd never visited one with a man stretched out on his bed. “The smell is dreadful, but the results outshine the negative effects. You will have to remove your shirt.” Her face turned bright red. “Putting onion on your clothes would be ridiculous.”
No one had tried taking such good care of him since his mother's passing. His governess had been plucked away shortly after that event, and his care, such as it was, thrust into his father's hands. When he had a cold under his father's watch, he'd been
chastised for laziness and complaining. Nothing short of a brain-boiling fever impressed the former duke.
“Why are you helping me, Leah?” He sat up and tugged the linen over his head. “What on earth would compel you to reek of onions all day to make a stranger more comfortable?”
Her brown eyes widened. For a few seconds, her gaze froze to his chest. Leah cleared her throat and set the onion bowl aside. “It's the right thing to do. Your own servants would have done it if you hadn't acted like a bear.”
“I wasn't a...” His voice died as she gave him a stern look. “I might have been a trifle difficult. I'll apologize later.”
“Your housekeeper will be along in a moment with peppermint tea. That should soothe your throat a bit. Honey will lessen the cough and with the onions, you should be right on the way to recovery. Or at least feeling more human.”
Weariness dropped him against his pillows again. “The slightest relief will be welcome.”
She approached with the flannel. “I'll be quick.”
“Take all the time you need.” The gentle brush of cloth guided by her fingers tickled, but in a pleasant way. He'd been at Glassodder Head without female companionship too long. Leah's strangely dark hair gave her a mysterious air. The way she changed from bossy to soft made him long to discover everything about her. She was no mere shepherdess. When he was well, he'd discover the secrets she held. For now, it was enough to settle back and allow her to care for him.
The reek of onions couldn't take away the sweetness of her touch. She spread them across the flannel, then folded the cloth so the finely chopped bulbs wouldn't spill into his bed. She'd barely finished before the housekeeper Mrs. Murphy entered.
Daniel met Leah's gaze. She wanted him to apologize. Because of that, he wanted to do it.
“Mrs. Murphy, I regret my sourness toward you since the cold felled me. I hope you can forgive me for snipping at everything you attempted to help me with.”
The older woman's eyebrows rose. “Of course, Your Grace.”
“Thank you for bringing the tea. Should Miss Leah desire anything until the moment she leaves for Lanthrop Downs, I hope you and the rest of the staff will accommodate her.”
Once Upon A Regency: Timeless Tales And Fables Page 38