* * * * *
He and Miss Greenway led the way and a groom rode after the children whose mounts followed side by side. Wyle thought he should make a push to assert himself about the riding lessons. He wanted his children to ride well so they could tour the estate, not just for show in Hyde Park. “Miss Greenway, I should be able to teach my own children how to ride.”
“Well that is what I was hoping but I feared you might not have time what with writing your memoirs.”
“Of course I have time. I didn’t even know they were interested.”
She turned her head and looked at him expectantly.
He looked embarrassed. “And yes, I should have known they wanted this.”
“They are interested in a great many things. You have intelligent children. You should get to know them better.”
Wyle nodded. Intelligent children, as opposed to he who was not so intelligent. Well, it was a just slur and delivered with such a deft hand so that not even the groom got it. He had neglected his children. Why was that? As they plodded sedately over the cobblestones, he decided that they had always reminded him of their mother and he had such bitter memories of her that he had let it poison his relationship with them. That all seemed magically swept away now. He felt he could see clearly for the first time in years.
Wyle cleared his throat. “I suggest that Henry ride beside me and Charlotte next to you, since a sidesaddle creates its own problems.”
“A good idea. She asked me why she needs a riding crop and Henry does not.”
“And you told her so that he doesn’t flog the beast into a runaway?”
Marian laughed. “Of course not. I told her so that she can give the horse a signal on the right side since she has no heel or knee there.”
“Oh, I had never thought about it very much.” What a mistake to say so.
“I’m sure there are any number of things you have not thought of. That is why I am here.”
She did not say this in a superior way but with the hint of a smile as though she was jesting with him. “Indeed. You almost sound as though you resent having to ride sidesaddle.”
“No, it is a challenge and I do like a challenge. Women have to be better riders than men and they take more risks. I bet you never thought of that either.”
“No, you shall have to make me a list of things I never thought of and leave it on my desk as you did the curriculum. That should occupy all your spare time.” Wyle glanced back at the children and Charlotte looked worried. Then he realized she must remember some of the arguments he’d had with her mother so he smiled at her and got an answering smile in return. Was that all it took to set her mind at rest, a smile? And what with his wounds he probably had denied the children even that for many months.
“We made it to the park,” Henry said. “Can we trot now?”
“May we trot,” Marian corrected. “And that is up to your father.”
Wyle was glad she was going to let him decide something but suddenly he felt protective of these two children whom he hardly knew. He scrutinized Henry’s stirrups and got off to make some adjustments. Then he made them walk the horses and do turns on the grass so they could practice steering before they got back on the pathway.
It was many minutes before he said “trot” and then he poured forth a bunch of warnings about not letting the horse get the bit, none of which Henry paid the least heed to. He let his horse jog and then got white in the face when it loosened to a gallop. “Tug, Henry, tug and release,” he said as he matched his gray’s stride to the hack. “Tug and release and say, ‘Whoa.’ You can stop him yourself.”
Finally the hack got the idea he could not take advantage of the boy the way he had planned and slowed to a trot.
“Good job, Henry. You’ve got it. Make the horse do what you intend and he won’t take charge.”
“Yes, Father. Did I do well?”
The look the boy sent him was so hopeful it melted Wyle’s heart. “You did very well. Now turn in a circle left and let the ladies get ahead of us. I want to see how Charlotte is doing.”
With Warlock making a wider circle, the hack had no choice but to circle and fall in behind Marian and Charlotte. The groom Hoby rode out ahead now, probably still worried they might have a runaway. But Marian was a conservative rider, very proper and straitbacked in her posting and Charlotte was doing a good job of imitating her. There was a constant stream of conversation between them and much laughter. If only their mother had been a tenth the woman Marian was.
When they made the circuit of the park Wyle thought he would have no reservation about allowing Charlotte to ride with Marian and a groom. But he wanted to keep Henry under his wing for a while if he could. If he could? Of course he could if he chose. Why was he feeling like drawing back from them again? It was that old feeling he had always had between battles, that he should be doing something else, be somewhere else.
But this is where he needed to be, he argued with himself. This was his job here in England no matter what happened with the army. This was more important than war. He just had to remind himself that he deserved a life even though his errant wife had not thought so. Their last violent scene came to mind. Henry had been three and Louisa was still refusing him her bed. “You are away for years and only come back to get me pregnant,” she accused. “I cannot take another child. I want to go to Italy for my health.” And so she had gone with her French sister and brother-in-law. And he had never seen her again. Thank God she had not taken the children. How awful if she had taken them on to Paris with her and they had been trapped there with her and her lover during the war.
Word had come back about her affair with a French count. Wyle had no choice but to start a bill of divorce and Louisa had agreed, in spite of her insistence that he send Charlotte to her. Never. After the divorce Louisa had married the Frenchman in Paris. Where they lived now he had no idea.
When the party got back to the house, he declared they would breakfast together. Not the paltry tea and cakes they served in the schoolroom but ham and bacon. A man’s breakfast. Henry needed to talk about his success and so did Charlotte. As he and his son loaded their plates and sat, his daughter and Marian were discussing the color of Charlotte’s proposed riding habit. She wanted a green one like Marian’s. Suddenly it occurred to him that Charlotte had been wearing Louisa’s and oddly that did not make him sad. He chuckled as he put milk in his coffee.
“What is so humorous, sir?” Marian asked.
“Rather than discussing the rival points of the horses, you will turn this into a fashion show.”
“But, Father, I do need a new riding outfit, the jacket is too tight on this one.”
“And you shall have one. Order a dozen if you like. But I think you need a more spirited mount as well. I shall send to Fair Oaks. There is a mare there I have in mind for you.”
“What about me?” Henry pleaded.
“I think it will be harder to find just the right horse for you, Henry. You might have to try a few before I am satisfied.”
“Can we— May we ride again tomorrow?” Henry asked.
“Yes, unless it rains.” He glanced at Marian and won a smile of approval from her. Not her prim governess smile but her genuine lush smile. Why was that so important to him now? She was wrong about being able to keep her real face hidden forever. Like a fairy-tale heroine, her beauty would shine through in spite of her station.
As soon as they had eaten, the children went to the schoolroom to get ready for lessons. Marian hesitated outside the breakfast parlor.
“I am so glad you decided to accompany us.”
“So am I,” he agreed.
“And that you are taking an interest in their education.”
“Of course. Why do you say that?”
She started up the steps but spun to look at him, looping up the tail of her habit as though it were a queenly train. “Although I am a crack shot, I thought the servants might take it amiss if I started loading pistols in the rose
garden.”
“What?” He staggered into the wall.
“Look at the curriculum,” her quiet voice instructed as she disappeared up the stairs.
He hastened to his study on the next floor and found her list. Henry wanted to learn to shoot. Wonderful! He could just see himself taking a seven-year-old to Manton’s. He would be a laughingstock. But if it came to that he did not really care. He found himself chuckling over their ambitions but with a stab to his now vulnerable heart. He’d had no idea Henry wanted to be a soldier, that the boy worshiped him.
Perhaps he could devise some substitute for the shooting so that he could save gunfire for their return to Fair Oaks. Miss Greenway would accompany them, of course and…
A peremptory rap at the door interrupted his thoughts.
The butler opened it without Wyle’s permission and announced Lady Ridgeway.
“Glad to see you are up and working, unlike your lazy cousin.”
“Good morning, Aunt Alva. What brings you out so early?”
“Plans, we must make plans.” She plumped down on the chair in front of his desk before he could even rise.
“Plans for what?”
“Your wedding, of course.”
“Oh, well, there is plenty of time for that. Besides, Miss Green…way will want to take care of those. She’ll need her trousseau.“
”And where will you take her for your wedding tour?”
“Why to Fair Oaks, of course.”
“How paltry.” Alva glanced around the study as though mentally redecorating it.
“She has never seen it. She will be delighted. Besides, there is a war on. I can hardly take her to Europe.”
“Did you even consult her?”
“We have not had leisure to discuss that as yet.”
“Well, give me her direction. Someone must make a start.” Alva reached for his pen and he snatched it away.
“I will not. You will worry the poor girl to death.”
“I can find out where she is staying if you will not tell me.”
“Then do so.”
Wyle chuckled as his aunt left in a huff. Now that he thought about it, most of the pressure for him to marry again had come from her. Why was it so important that he be attached? Of course if anything were to happen to him, he now had a son to take his place. And if anything were to happen to Henry, well, Morris Armstead would be next in line. But that should not matter to Alva since her son Edward was ineligible. Come to think of it, Alva had introduced him to Louisa so many years ago. Now why did she care if he married or not?
Chapter Five
The morning lessons had gone so well Marian found the need to visit a shop to purchase more books so she could stay ahead of Charlotte. The children had left the luncheon table for a session of French translation when Marian mentioned her need to Lord Wyle. Before she could stop him he called for the team and she found herself being driven by Lord Wyle to Hatchard’s this time in a phaeton.
“We should have brought the children. They might find something there.”
“I see by your list that this is study time. We have an hour or so for you to have a rest from them.”
“But we agreed I was to keep a low profile. I should have taken a hackney to the bookshop.” She tried to shield her face from passing traffic with the umbrella she had brought to fend off rain.
“Why, when I can take you there in comfort. Besides, no one will see us who did not have a chance to ogle us this morning in the park.”
“You are probably wondering why I did not voice some concern then.”
“No, I wasn’t but I feel sure you will tell me.” His smirk showed up the dents beside his mouth.
“It was so wonderful to see the children laughing and having fun with you. Not for the world would I have cut short that expedition and I did wear a veil over my riding hat. Besides, it was very early.”
“But you were not wearing a veil the day before.”
“I did not think of it. I was stunned by your transformation. Did you notice anyone you knew?”
“At the Tower? Not likely and we were in a closed carriage. If any acquaintance did see me they might think you my Aunt Alva.”
“It was worth the risk to entertain them so much.”
“I was wonderful, wasn’t it? I do not recall ever doing anything like it.”
She smiled at him. “Then I am sorry for you.”
“I am sorry for me. I missed so much. Thanks to you I see the error of my ways. Shall I go in with you? Reed can walk the horses.”
“It might be better if I went alone.”
“Very well, I have a few errands of my own to take care of. I shall return for you in, say, an hour.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Marian tried to keep her mind on her purchases but she kept thinking of Wyle and how different he looked with the children than he had that first night. She kept reminding herself he had been half drunk when they had met. That was why he had that dangerous gleam in his eyes, why he had acted so impulsively and why he had been able to tempt her to be jubilantly indiscreet.
Thank goodness that was over and she could recede into the background, go back to being Miss Greenway again with the face of a sober governess. Truth to tell she treasured that one night in her dreams, that brief return to the limelight, where she was poised and witty, where everyone laughed at whatever she said, where Wyle eyed her with longing. He had done that. If her memory served her, that could not have been an act. He had desired her that night. Fortunately that was past. She could not accomplish her present task if he still harbored any of those feelings for her.
That was a lowering thought, that his attraction for her had come from a bottle. He was a complex man but she thought she could help him as she educated Charlotte and Henry. Only if she kept her head, only if she wore this sober face.
She was at the counter paying for her purchase when she saw someone familiar. It was one of the ladies at Wyle’s party. The woman looked her up and down but Marian kept her eyes resolutely on the clerk and though Lady Coville still had a puzzled expression when Marian took her package she did not attempt to speak with her.
It worked. The demure fawn dress and poke bonnet pressed her into the background of life. All she had to do was not make eye contact. A governess or other servant was almost invisible in this world. No one bothered with them. She felt a sense of pride in having pulled that off. Precisely one hour after he had left her, Wyle returned and got down to take her bundle and help her up, though it was completely unnecessary.
“You will give me the bill for those.”
“Yes, of course. We should be home in plenty of time for the art lesson. Henry seemed interested so we shall include him. But he does not want to learn the pianoforte.”
“Oh, I have an idea there. Fencing takes much more skill than shooting. I had a notion to give him lessons in the ballroom.”
“And as opposed to target practice, it is also nearly silent.”
“Precisely, unless we topple a vase or something. You approve?”
“Yes, I am sure our scales and playing will cover the noise of any breakage.”
“I love the way you say things like that as though they are no surprise.”
“Are you accusing me of being witty?”
“Yes, you said you had two ways of being, two faces you called it but you are yourself under those sober clothes.”
Marian looked at him and there was something in his eyes that was more than amusement. Not a dangerous glint but some small fire. This could be a problem.
“Where are we going now? This isn’t the way home.”
“An airing around the park will take no more than twenty minutes and I do not want you toiling endlessly.”
“But someone might see us.”
“Then put on your Mary Green face and smile. No one will think it odd that I take my betrothed for a drive.”
When he said things like that, as though he was maintaining the illusion
of the engagement, she did not know how to take him. So she glared at him but it was refreshing driving about the park. She glanced at his hands, to find he held both left reins in his left hand and had the right reins of both horses twined through the fingers of his right hand. She supposed the phaeton team knew their business and would not bolt. Still he took a risk but she would be the last to fuss over his accommodations to civilian life. As an artillery officer he probably didn’t need to use his hands much. She had to keep reminding herself he only said he was going to quit soldiering, just as her father had promised to retire. But war was intoxicating to men. Perhaps they were all a little mad in that respect.
* * * * *
While Charlotte practiced scales in the drawing room and Marian sorted music, she peeked into the disused ballroom and saw Wyle and Henry shuffling back and forth in their stocking feet on the polished wood floor using sticks rather than rapiers. Good choice until Wyle could find capped fencing foils and padded vests. Just as she was about to withdraw the stick slid out of Wyle’s right hand and took down a vase with a crash that echoed off the walls.
“Oh, no,” Henry said.
“It was ugly anyway,” Wyle added. “Switch hands now.”
He wasn’t as skilled with his left hand but he could hang onto his fake weapon. Suddenly Marian realized how very dangerous it would be for Wyle to stay in the army. Not only did his limp impede him but if it came to hand-to-hand combat, he would be ill-equipped to defend himself. If she read him right, the possibility of personal danger would never dissuade him from going back to war if the situation were compelling enough.
* * * * *
Wyle was making notes in his study, praying for the return of Hill when a small knock came at the door.
“Come?” Wyle commanded.
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