He put the plate down quickly. His grip wasn’t rock steady either.
Zeus!
And the worst of it was, his first thought at Edward’s words hadn’t been about the begetting of a child, but the raising of it, of sitting like this in the morning sun with Anne and their sons and daughters.
Oh, Lord, I am in deep trouble.
“Yes,” Anne said, “except I’m not marrying Lord Haywood, Edward.”
“Hedlow says you are.”
Miss Davenport scowled at that, but seemed almost immediately to notice Stephen stiffen, because she smiled at the boy as if to reassure him.
Nate felt his heart soften even more at her continued kindness to Eleanor’s too-serious, sensitive son.
Yes, I’m in very deep trouble.
“I’m afraid this Hedlow person is mistaken, Edward. Isn’t that right, Lord Haywood?”
“Er, yes.” He felt a stab of what could only be disappointment.
“Did you and Edward come looking for us, my lord?”
Thankfully, Miss Davenport had the good sense to change the subject.
“Yes.” Nate smiled at Stephen. “Edward came to me when he couldn’t find you in the nursery, Stephen.”
Edward paused in licking the last cake crumbs from his fingers to send his brother an accusatory look. “You left me.”
“You were still asleep. I thought I’d be back before you woke up.”
Edward looked up at Miss Davenport. “I went to Uncle Nate’s room to see if Stephen was there, Miss Anne, and I had to bang very hard on the door because Uncle Nate was still asleep!”
“And I wanted to stay asleep, you young rascal,” Nate said, ruffling the boy’s hair.
“I’m sorry Edward woke you, Uncle Nate.”
Blast it, Stephen was always apologizing. He was too afraid of giving offense. That blackguard Eaton had much to answer for.
I hope he’s burning in hell.
“It was nothing, Stephen. I’m usually awake at that hour. I just didn’t sleep very well last night.” Because he’d kept thinking of Anne and the unlocked door connecting their rooms.
“Surely your governess knew where Stephen was, Edward,” Anne said. “You did tell her where you were going, didn’t you, Stephen?”
Stephen shook his head. “Hedlow was asleep when I left.”
“Arthur stayed over last night,” Edward added in a helpful tone. “Hedlow always sleeps late when he’s there.”
Miss Davenport tried to muffle her gasp, but she wasn’t entirely successful.
“And who is Arthur?” Nate asked. He did not like the sound of this. He also didn’t like the fact that Stephen had suddenly frozen in what looked very much like fear.
“One of the footmen.” Edward wrinkled his nose. “He snores.”
“Does your mother know about Arthur’s overnight visits?” Miss Davenport asked.
“Hedlow made us promise not to tell. She said—” Edward’s eyes opened wide and he slapped his hand over his mouth. “I just told.”
“It will be all right, Edward,” Stephen said, his voice shaking slightly. “Uncle Nate and Miss Davenport won’t tattle.” He looked anxiously at Anne and Nate. “Will you?”
Good God! Fury momentarily blinded Nate. “You and Edward don’t have to be afraid of your governess, Stephen,” he said—and stopped when he saw Stephen flinch at the anger in his voice.
“Lord Haywood is right, Stephen.” Anne’s tone was soothing. “Neither he nor I will let this person hurt you, but we must tell your mama. I’m quite certain she’ll take steps immediately to, ah, address the situation once she knows of it.” She turned to Edward and hugged him. “I’m so glad you told us. You did exactly the right thing.”
Edward wrapped his arms tightly around Anne and buried his face in her chest.
Anne is doing a splendid job with the boys. She’d be wonderful with her own children.
With our children . . .
Zeus, he was losing his mind . . . though it felt rather as if he was losing his heart. Thank God this house party was only a week long. The sooner he got back to London and sanity—and away from temptation—the better.
“You’ll really talk to Mama?” Stephen asked.
Miss Davenport smiled at him over Edward’s head. “Well, I shall likely talk to my papa and he’ll talk to your mama.”
“I’ll have a word with your mother directly, Stephen,” Nate said. Davenport might support the governess’s removal, but this was Eleanor’s responsibility. “Tell me, what did Hedlow threaten to do if you reported her behavior?” Hedlow . . . the name wasn’t familiar, not that he’d felt a need to keep abreast of Eleanor’s employees. “She’s a new governess, isn’t she?”
“Yes,” Stephen said. “Winkie—Miss Winkleson—left last month. Her mother wrote that the man Winkie had wanted to marry years ago had come back from the West Indies a widower, so Winkie rushed off to try her luck again. She didn’t give Mama much warning. Mama wrote to someone in London, and they sent Miss Hedlow.”
“Hedlow doesn’t like the country,” Edward offered, having finally let go of Miss Davenport to search the basket for more cake. He emerged with a handful of crumbs.
Stephen nodded. “Until she discovered Arthur, she complained all the time about how dull everything here is compared to Town.”
“But how did she threaten you?” Anne asked, returning to his question. “What was she going to do?”
Stephen looked surprised. “She never said exactly.”
“She just said we’d be sorry,” Edward said.
Hollow threats, then, though if the woman knew the boys’ history—and she must—she’d know that would be enough to keep them silent.
“She said it in a very nasty way. And she cackled just like a witch!”
“Witches aren’t real, Edward,” Stephen said with just a touch of superiority.
“If they were real, Hedlow would be one.” Edward’s lower lip protruded in a slight pout.
Stephen nodded. “Yes, you’re right about that.”
“Well, she’ll be the one who will be sorry now,” Anne said, with suitable relish. “I suspect your mama will send her packing at once.”
“Oh.” Stephen paled. “She’ll be very angry.”
Nate frowned. Unfortunately, Stephen was likely correct. Both Hedlow and Arthur were sure to lose their positions. It would be best if the boys weren’t in the woman’s charge again.
“Do you suppose you two can play truant today?” he asked. “We could row across to the island and show Miss Davenport the folly.”
“Could we?” Stephen’s face glowed with excitement. “Edward and I have wanted to see it forever.”
That was odd. It wasn’t as if the boys had just arrived at the Manor. “Why haven’t you?”
Stephen shrugged. “Winkie didn’t like the water, and Mama was too sad to ask for a long time. And neither of them could row a boat across the lake anyway. We didn’t want to bother Uncle William.”
“I don’t think he could row a boat, either,” Edward said. “He’s old.”
There was no point in suggesting a footman might have been enlisted to do the manual labor. Clearly, the adults here had not been focusing enough on the boys’ interests.
As, it suddenly dawned on him, he hadn’t considered Miss Davenport’s. She’d been very kind to the children, but that didn’t mean she wished to spend several hours, if not the entire day, with them.
“Forgive me for assuming you’d be part of this adventure, Miss Davenport. Of course, you don’t need to accompany us, if you’d rather not.”
“Oh, but I’d like to.” She smiled at Stephen and Edward. “I’ve been wanting to see the folly ever since Lord Haywood pointed it out to me yesterday.”
Miss Davenport really was a capital girl. She certainly made it seem as if she was completely delighted by the proposed activity.
“Huzzah!” Edward jumped to his feet. “Let’s go.”
Oh, hell. Stephen
’s brow was furrowed again. “Mama will be angry if she looks for us and Hedlow doesn’t know where we are.”
This Hedlow woman could not be sent back to London fast enough in Nate’s opinion. “I will send a note to your governess and to your mama, Stephen.”
“But why will you say we’ve gone off?” Stephen chewed on his lip. “Hedlow is sure to guess we’ve blabbed about Arthur.”
“She will think no such thing,” Miss Davenport said, smiling at Stephen as she started to pack up the hamper. “She knows your mother is marrying my father. It makes perfect sense that you would seek me out and wish to spend some time getting to know me.”
“Y-yes.” Stephen nodded. “I-I guess you’re right.”
“Of course Miss Davenport is right,” Nate said. And brilliant. She’d come up with the perfect excuse before it had occurred to him. “Let’s take this hamper back to Mrs. Limpert and see if she’ll kindly refill it with rather heartier provisions so we can take it with us to the folly. While she’s doing that, I’ll jot those notes.”
* * *
Anne walked with the boys and Nate—she’d call him that in her thoughts, at least—down the path through the woods to the boathouse.
No, it was safer for her heart to stick to Lord Haywood. Being here with the boys made this excursion feel far too much like a family outing, and Lord Haywood was never going to be part of her family. Hadn’t he told her that in so many words after he’d kissed her last night? Clearly her charms, such as they were, hadn’t been enough to tempt him to change his mind about matrimony.
Not that she was interested in marrying him. Of course not.
Liar.
Well, it made no difference whether she’d marry him or not. He was not going to ask, and she had too much pride to try to wheedle a proposal from him.
She watched him carry the food hamper. He made it look easy, but she knew how heavy it was. She’d struggled to lug it when it had contained only breakfast for two. Now it was much heavier. She’d seen the vast quantity of provisions Mrs. Limpert had packed for them. The woman had even added a jug of lemonade and a bottle of wine.
Oh, Lord. Mrs. Limpert had given her quite the significant look as she’d slipped that wine in. Anne was very much afraid that no matter what she called Lord Haywood, the Banningly servants would manufacture a romance between them, which would encourage Lord and Lady Banningly and Papa and Mrs. Eaton and everyone else to imagine—erroneously—there was a wedding in their future.
If only Cat would marry the Duke of Hart and vacate the Spinster House. Lord Haywood would likely find a way to blame Anne for that, but it wouldn’t matter if she won the lottery. Then she’d have a place of her own without the inconvenience of a husband.
But if Cat didn’t marry . . .
She sighed. She’d have to get serious about finding a man she could tolerate for more than an hour or two. She didn’t wish to live with her father and Mrs. Eaton for the rest of her life.
The thought was exceedingly depressing.
She looked down at Edward, who was skipping along beside her, holding her hand. She’d be living with him and Stephen as well. That would be all right. She could see that they got settled at Davenport Hall and met the village children. Papa and Mrs. Eaton might be too caught up in their new marriage and new baby to consider the boys’ needs properly.
And they would need a new governess, though perhaps Stephen was indeed old enough for a tutor. She’d mention it to Nate—or rather, Lord Haywood. He hadn’t any sons, of course, but he’d been a boy once. He would know more about the matter than she did.
She looked back at the marquess. Stephen was walking next to him, chattering away, and Lord Haywood was tilted slightly down toward the boy, obviously listening carefully to what he said. He laughed and said something in reply—and she felt her heart turn over.
Only because she thought it sad that he didn’t have sons of his own. Yet. He’d said he planned on marrying someday. He would have to. He’d want an heir.
Edward tugged on her fingers to reclaim her attention. “I’ve never been in a boat before. Have you ever been in a boat, Miss Anne?”
“No, I haven’t, Edward.”
Nate’s head swiveled around at that. “You haven’t been in a boat, Anne? Really?”
She flushed at his use of her Christian name. Likely he hadn’t realized he’d done it.
“Yes, really.” She could have gone out on the water at any number of house parties, but she’d preferred to read in the library. The thought of being trapped with an aristocratic idiot, no hope of escape until the fellow decided to row them to shore—no. She’d wanted no part of that.
“But can you swim?” Lord Haywood asked.
“Yes.” Papa had insisted on that. “Well enough to save myself if I were to fall in.”
“And what about you two?” he asked the boys. “Have you truly not taken a boat over to the folly?”
Stephen shook his head.
“And I suppose no one taught you to swim, either.” He frowned. “That strikes me as rather dangerous living so close to the water.”
“Mama told us to stay away from the lake,” Edward said.
Lord Haywood’s eyebrows rose, and he sent Anne what she took to be an incredulous look. She’d had only limited experience with children, but from observing Cat’s brothers, she thought it bordered on miraculous that these two had obeyed their mother’s wishes.
“Does this mean we can’t go in the boat?” Stephen asked in a small voice.
“Well . . .” Lord Haywood was clearly undecided.
“Please?” Edward let go of Anne’s hand to take Lord Haywood’s.
“We’ll do exactly as you tell us, Uncle Nate.” Stephen’s tone was pleading. “Right, Edward?”
Edward nodded so vigorously, his little body shook.
Lord Haywood looked at the boys and then sighed. “Very well, you can go if you promise to sit perfectly still and hold Miss Davenport’s hands tightly. There will be no fidgeting about or hanging over the side, understand?”
“Yes, Uncle Nate,” Stephen said. “We understand, don’t we, Edward?”
Edward nodded again. “Yes. I promise to be very, very, very good.”
Something about the way the boys spoke twisted Anne’s heart. It sounded as if they’d had to spend their short lives working far too hard to be good. It was useful now—it would be extremely dangerous if they misbehaved and fell into the water—but once they were at Davenport Hall, once they felt safe, she hoped they would learn how to be normal, mischievous little boys.
“See that you do so.” Lord Haywood gave the boys a strict, no-nonsense look and then continued down the path. “There’s a spot over on the island where the water is quite shallow. I’ll ask your mother if she’ll let me teach you to swim. It’s a very important skill to have.”
The boys nodded, though they looked rather doubtful.
They came out of the trees under a cloudless blue sky and crossed the lawn to the boathouse. As they got closer, Anne heard whistling coming from the building.
Lord Haywood’s eyes widened—and then he grinned. “Zeus, that sounds like Duck Smith.” He lengthened his stride. “Halloo, Duck! Is that you in there?”
Edward looked up at her. “Uncle Nate knows a duck?”
Anne laughed. “I’m sure this duck is a man, Edward.”
At Lord Haywood’s shout, a man wearing work clothes and a large, floppy straw hat came out of the building.
“By George, is that Master Nate?” The man hurried forward and grasped Nate’s outstretched hand to shake it enthusiastically. “Or I should say Lord Haywood now, shouldn’t I, milord?”
“Nate will do just fine, Duck.”
The man shook his head. Now that she was closer, Anne could see his skin was wrinkled and leathery—likely from hours spent in the sun—and his hair, tied in a queue that hung down past his collar, was white.
“Oh, no. I’ll not be calling the Marquess of Haywood by his C
hristian name.” He turned to smile at Stephen and Edward. “These must be Miss Eleanor’s boys”—his eyes continued on to Anne—“but who’s this lovely lady?”
Lord Haywood smiled and performed the introductions. “Miss Davenport, this is Walter ‘Duck’ Smith. As you’ve likely gathered, Duck was in charge of the boathouse when I was a boy. Duck, Miss Davenport.”
The man nodded. “The baron’s daughter. Aye, I’ve heard of ye, miss.”
She surmised by the darkening of his expression that what he’d heard hadn’t been entirely complimentary. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith,” she said politely.
“But how can it be that you’ve not met Stephen and Edward before, Duck?” Lord Haywood asked, seemingly oblivious to his friend’s suddenly chilly demeanor.
“The boys don’t know how to swim, milord, so it’s wise they keep away from the water.” Duck shrugged. “And I’m well named. I stay down here by the lake. I’m not much for the big house.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Smith,” Stephen said.
“Oh, ye must call me Duck, Master Stephen. Everyone does. I won’t know who yer talking to elsewise.”
“Uncle Nate is going to take us to the folly in a boat, Mr. Duck,” Edward said.
Duck frowned at Lord Haywood. “Is that wise, milord, them not being able to swim?” He looked at Anne. “And what about you, miss?”
“I can swim, Mr. Smith,” Anne said. Honesty made her add, “Though not terribly well.”
“The boys have promised to behave, Duck.” Lord Haywood looked at Stephen and Edward. “Haven’t you, boys?”
The boys nodded vigorously.
“We’re very good at doing what we’re told, Mr. Duck,” Stephen said.
“I’m going to sit as still as if my bottom was glued to the boat,” Edward added, “and hold Miss Anne’s hand.”
Mr. Smith nodded. “Good. See that ye do so. No standing up or moving around, mind ye. And stay away from the water unless the marquess has a hand on ye.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We promise, Mr. Duck.”
“Very good.” And then Duck looked at Anne.
She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. “I promise to do exactly as Lord Haywood tells me also, Mr. Smith.”
How to Manage a Marquess Page 16
