by Aston, Alexa
“My boys also learn to press their own clothes and are taught how to sew on a button. You never know when those skills might come in handy.”
Reid thought of his former batman, Anderson, whom he’d already sent for to serve as his valet. The man had been with Reid for more than five years and had told him he’d be happy to return to England to serve him there. Anderson was handy with a needle and thread and it made Reid wonder where he’d learned the skill.
“Let’s go outside,” Lady Dunwood suggested. “You’ll want to see the grounds.”
They left the drawing room and moved downstairs. She headed straight for the door, stopping only to lift a shawl hanging from a hook and wrapping it about her.
“Wait. Do you not need a hat?” He’d never seen a woman leave a house without wearing one.
“Hats are a nuisance. When it’s a day of sunshine, sometimes Mrs. Clayton persuades me to take a parasol to shade my face. Otherwise, I only wear them when I go into town or to some social occasion where they’re required.”
He found this woman refreshing. Not only was she incredibly beautiful, but she was friendly and unpretentious.
“At least let me get the door for you since I see no footman about.”
“Oh, I don’t employ any. Nor do I have a butler.”
Her words took him aback. He couldn’t imagine how a household ran without either. “Why not?”
“They’re really unnecessary. It’s not as if I receive social calls. I am headmistress of a school. My time is taken up with bookkeeping and working with my boys. I do have a housekeeper and two maids, along with a cook.” She chuckled. “I should have two cooks with what all these boys and men eat. But as for other staff, they’re not needed.”
Opening the door, Reid followed her out and offered her his arm. She looked at him blankly for a moment and then took it. The warmth of her hand resting there did something odd to his insides.
“You see, I’m a bit out of practice as far as having a gentleman escort me about goes.”
“And yet you teach etiquette,” he teased.
She burst out laughing, deep from her belly. The rich, full noise drew him to her even more.
“I suppose I should practice what I preach,” she said, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I hope this hasn’t lessened your opinion of my school.”
“Not in the least. I’m sure the admirable Mr. Phillips steps in when you stumble in matters of social customs.”
“You’re a troublemaker,” she said, approval in her voice. “I quite like them.”
“Drawn to scamps, are you?”
She sobered. “They need love and attention as much as the next boy. Sometimes much more than those very good boys who do nothing out of the norm and are always trying to please their elders.” She paused. “Let’s go to the stables.”
“Oh, so you give riding lessons?”
“Yes. And you see that field over there?” She pointed. “The boys play sports there. I find exercising the mind as well as the body makes for a happy, satisfied, and—dare I say it—tired boy at the end of the day.”
“And exhausted boys are ones who cause less trouble?” he asked.
“My secret is out,” she said playfully.
Reid longed to know all of this woman’s secrets.
Chapter Three
Ashlyn continued her tour with the Duke of Gilford, finding herself relaxed and elated at the same time. She was in her element talking about the school and her boys. What they studied and what their routines were like. She enjoyed showing the duke every aspect of the school and hoped he would decide to send the wayward boys to her. She’d noticed them at the funeral, looking belligerent, and wondered how they were feeling about their father’s death. She knew she could help them.
But who would help her?
Despite maintaining her usual aura of calm efficiency while speaking to Gilford, her insides were churning as if she rode out a storm at sea. Masses of butterflies had taken flight, beating against her insides as if they yearned to be free. Ashlyn found it hard to breathe normally, especially with her hand resting upon the duke’s sleeve, his solid arm like a rock beneath her fingertips.
She chided herself for feeling giddy as a schoolgirl coming across her crush unexpectedly. These idiotic feelings weren’t real. She was merely in the company of an extremely attractive man, which was a rare occurrence. She’d never made her come-out to Polite Society, where she would have been exposed to gentlemen of all ages. She’d spent years buried in the country, raising Gregory and volunteering at the parsonage helping young boys with reading, writing, and simple arithmetic instead of attending London Seasons. Her daily life now revolved around her pupils. Though Mr. Phillips would be considered handsome, she’d never viewed him as a man, merely one of her staff members who was quite capable in his position.
It shouldn’t surprise her that she would find Gilford so appealing, especially with her experience regarding men being so limited. The duke’s good looks, charm, and regal bearing would assure that women clamored for his attention wherever he went. She told herself it was perfectly acceptable that she should think him handsome, because he was. If he chose to send Arthur and Harry to Dunwood Academy, she would have to meet with him upon occasion regarding the boys’ progress. It would be important to rein in the incredibly intense feelings she experienced in his presence. The old adage “out of sight, out of mind” would apply in this instance. If she wasn’t around him, she wouldn’t be so consumed with thoughts of him.
Or so she told herself.
As they headed toward the stables, a part of her yearned for all the things she’d missed out on by being forced to wed Daniel at such a young age. She would have danced with men such as Gilford. Gone for carriage drives and ridden in Rotten Row. Attended musicales and garden parties in the company of many gentlemen. Ashlyn understood a part of her social growth and maturation had been stunted by being isolated as she had been for so long.
She would put aside these frivolous feelings. She had to—else she might act on them—and what a disaster that would be. Imagine how Gilford might react if she gave in to temptation and did what she wanted to do.
Kiss him.
They arrived at the stables just as Jarrett came out with Edward. The boy led Maymorn, walking slowly as he talked to the pregnant mare.
“Good morning, Mr. Jarrett. Master Edward. This is the Duke of Gilford, come to visit Dunwood Academy in order to see if it might be the place for his brothers to attend.” Reid noted that she didn’t call the boys his half-brothers even though he had made it clear that is what they were.
Both the groom and boy bowed to the duke, who surprisingly offered his hand to each. Ashlyn looked on with pride at the confidence Edward showed in meeting a new person. As for Gilford, he didn’t react to the large firemark obscuring the boy’s face.
“That’s a right pretty horse you have there, Master Edward,” the duke told the child, who lit up.
“Maymorn is going to have a foal,” Edward exclaimed. “Mr. Jarrett is letting me take her to the pasture for some exercise. It’s good for a mother to walk around with the foal inside her.”
Gilford nodded approvingly. “I’m quite fond of horses myself.”
“Mr. Jarrett knows everything about horses,” bragged Edward. “I’m learning lots.”
“I’m sure you are.” The duke turned to Jarrett. “How many horses do you stable?”
Ashlyn listened as the men talked about the various mounts and how the groom and Mr. Selleck gave the boys riding lessons.
“They learn to muck out the stalls, too,” Jarrett said with a wink. “Master Peter is inside doing so now.”
Gilford looked puzzled. “You say the students do the mucking?”
“That’s right, Your Grace. Lady Dunwood only has me in the stables. No other groomsmen. The boys learn to care for the horses, from feeding and grooming to cleaning up after them.”
He turned to her. “You did say you taught some
unusual skills.”
“Being responsible for the care of animals is an important lesson to learn,” she said. “As a tenant, my landlord won’t allow dogs so the boys care for the horses, as well as a few goats and pigs.”
“The pigs smell something awful,” Edward remarked. “But they are as good-natured as the goats. We have cats, too, to keep the mice away.”
Gilford smiled. “It sounds like you have everything important here at Dunwood. That could be very advantageous to my half-brothers.”
Edward nodded solemnly. “We do, Your Grace. We learn from books but other places, as well. Lady Dunwood even has Mrs. George give us cooking lessons. You should taste one of my plum tarts.”
“Best we get along, Master Edward,” Jarrett said. “Maymorn needs to stretch her legs now and you still have two stalls to muck.”
The boy offered his hand to the duke and Ashlyn’s heart soared. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I hope you’ll allow your half-brothers to come here.”
“I’ll give it strong consideration, Master Edward. Thank you for your hearty endorsement.”
The groom and pupil led the mare away. Gilford turned to her.
“He’s had the port-wine stain since birth?”
“Yes. Edward holds the Gregory Clarke scholarship position. He’s the son of a local farmer who’s brilliant at playing five instruments and gifted in mathematics. My hope is he’ll land a scholarship at a good public school and move on to university.”
“He seemed a bright, thoughtful lad.”
“You should have seen him when he first arrived several months ago. Quiet as a lamb. He’d been judged harshly by all who met him because of his appearance.”
“I know from my own school days that boys can be bullies. How did they take to Edward?”
“Quite well. I spoke with them as a group and then with each one individually before Edward came to us. Many of them have their own problems. It’s made them more aware that others have troubles, as well. I’m proud to say we’ve never had an incidence of bullying.”
“None?” he questioned. “I find that very hard to believe, Lady Dunwood. You might not be aware of any bullying but I assure you that it goes on behind closed doors when no adults are around. It’s the way of English schools. Older boys bully younger ones. Bigger ones bully the smaller boys.”
The headmistress gave him a withering look. “You are wrong in that regard, Your Grace. I guarantee you that it does not occur here.”
“Then I’m afraid I should never enroll Arthur and Harry because I’m sure they wouldn’t fit into such an idealized place.”
She frowned. “No, I hope you do. I would love to work with them, as would my staff.”
“And when they do misbehave?” he challenged. “And though I’ve only met them, I guarantee you they will. What is the usual punishment?”
“I talk to them, of course.”
The duke frowned. “You . . . talk to them. And then thrash them?”
She glared at him. “I would never resort to physical violence. Usually, a simple conversation does the trick. Of course, I’ll withhold sweets for a week in dire cases but I really don’t have many instances of that.”
The intense look he gave Ashlyn caused her to shiver.
“Talking is all you do.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Talking.”
“Yes. It’s what I did with my own son. Of course, Gregory was a very good boy so there was little to correct him about.”
“Was?” he asked softly.
Ashlyn nodded, her throat growing thick. “Yes. He passed when he was four.”
Sympathy filled the duke’s eyes and he took her hands. “I am most sorry, my lady. I’d been told you lost your husband in the war. To have lost your child, as well, must have been heart-wrenching.”
For a moment, Ashlyn couldn’t speak. She was aware of her small hands in his large, rough ones. The sense of comfort and security that gesture brought. She gazed down at them joined together. In losing both her son and husband, no one had offered her physical comfort, though she’d longed for a soothing embrace. Beyond a polite handshake, she’d had no physical contact with anyone for a very long time.
Until this man.
Gently, she pulled her hands from his and said, “It was a trying time. They both passed within a short time of one another. That’s when I decided to start the academy.”
“And you named the scholarship after your son?”
“I did. Edward will hold it until he moves on. My hope is one day he’ll return to teach at Dunwood Academy.”
The duke studied her for a moment. “You plan to keep at this that long?”
“This is my life now, Your Grace.”
“You are still young, Lady Dunwood. Surely, you’ll wed again and have children.”
“Never,” she said, more vehemently than she should have, judging by his arched brows. Tempering her tone, she added, “These neglected boys are my life’s work, Your Grace. I wouldn’t think of abandoning them.”
“Not even for children of your own?” he pressed.
“No. I had my one, perfect boy. I have no interest in wedding, much less having another child. I’ve dedicated my life to the pupils at Dunwood Academy.” She smiled brightly, pushing down the raw emotions that threatened to surface. “Have you decided whether or not to entrust Arthur and Harry to me and my staff?”
“I have one more person to speak with before I come to my decision,” the duke said. “Mr. Jarrett mentioned a boy mucking the stables. I want to talk with him.”
“Peter?” she asked, wondering why he would single out one pupil whom he didn’t know. “Come to the stables with me and I’ll introduce you.”
“No, my lady,” Gilford said. “You’ve been with me every step of the way this morning. I’d like to meet Peter on my own.”
Chapter Four
Reid left the very perplexed Lady Dunwood and entered the stables. The sweet scent of hay filled his nostrils, combined with the smell of horseflesh. He paused at a couple of stalls and rubbed a few noses before finding the boy he searched for, shoveling manure into a heap.
“Are you Master Peter?” he asked, thinking the lad about eight or nine.
A ginger-colored head bobbed up. The freckled face scrunched up in curiosity. “Who might you be, Sir?”
He’d been impressed with the other lad’s manners and had wanted to test another boy, away from his headmistress. Reid also had a few questions that he thought a pupil would answer more honestly without the lady’s presence.
“I’m the Duke of Gilford,” he said easily.
The boy looked slightly taken aback being in the presence of a duke but quickly recovered. He propped his shovel against the wall and came toward Reid before making a smooth bow.
With an earnest look, he said, “I am Peter Bryland, Viscount Marlowe, Your Grace.” He pulled his work glove off and held out a hand but withdrew it a moment later. “I’d offer to shake your hand but I’m not sure a duke would care to shake with someone who’s been mucking a stall.”
He gave Reid a cheeky grin and Reid found himself liking this boy quite a bit.
“May I ask why you’re doing physical labor, Lord Marlowe?”
The boy frowned. “Please, Your Grace, call me Master Peter.”
“Why wouldn’t I call you by your title?”
“We don’t use them here,” he explained. “Not every boy who comes to study at Dunwood Academy has one. Some are second or third sons. One pupil is the son of a farmer. Lady Dunwood likes all of her boys to be on equal footing. We’re all addressed the same—and we dress the same, as well.” He grinned. “At least when we’re in the classroom.”
“Yes, I toured a few classes earlier. I heard you conversing as Plato with another pupil being Epicurus.”
Peter’s eyes lit up. “That was ever so much fun. Mr. Butler has us do that on occasion.”
“Do you enjoy your studies here?”
The boy nodded. “Very m
uch. Mr. Selleck teaches more languages than at my former school. And Mr. Peterson exposes us to economics, not just mathematics. The coursework is difficult but our tutors are excellent. When they’re not available, I can always find another boy to help me understand something. Drake always helps me conjugate difficult verbs and Edward is adept in explaining numbers.”
“I don’t know Drake but I did meet Edward outside with Mr. Jarrett,” he said carefully, wanting to get the boy’s true opinion of Edward and the firemark he bore on his face. He was convinced the other boys gave Edward a hard time, despite what Lady Dunwood seemed to believe.
“Mr. Jarrett gives us riding lessons. He also helps with sports.”
“And what do you think of Edward?”
Peter looked puzzled. “I just told you. He’s excellent at mathematics. And music. You should hear him play the cello and pianoforte. He’s taken up the harp recently and already plays it better than Mr. Phillips. Edward is probably my closest friend here, along with William.”
“Why do you like Edward? And William?” Reid pressed.
He shrugged. “William and I came around the same time. We just get along. Edward is very funny. And nice. At my other school, people weren’t very nice to me. My brother was there with me.” A shadow crossed Peter’s face. “I love him but he does everything well. All the tutors and other boys compared me to him and made fun of me because I wasn’t very good at sports or academics.”
“You think that’s changed at Dunwood Academy?”
“Yes,” Peter said eagerly. “Lady Dunwood only takes on a handful of boys each term. She works with us on what we need to get better at. I’m shy but I’ll bet you didn’t know that, Your Grace.”
Reid laughed. “I would have never guessed so, Master Peter.”
“That’s because I didn’t have confidence. Lady Dunwood has helped me see what I’m good at. The things I’m not good at? I just practice more now. I’m much better now at kicking and throwing a ball.” He paused. “My brother has dark hair and blue eyes. He’s very handsome. I used to get teased all the time because of my freckles. Boys would hold me down and try to wipe them off. They called me horrible names and kicked me.”