by Deborah Hale
She took greater care than usual with her appearance that evening. Unbinding her hair from its plain governess knot, she tied up the loose flow of chestnut curls with a velvet ribbon instead. Then she donned a gown Grace had given her to wear during the Nethercross Christmas festivities. Its rich plum color complemented her hair and eyes and brightened her complexion.
She performed a little twirl before the looking glass then asked her starry-eyed reflection why she had gone to so much trouble. The younger-looking woman replied with an impudent grin, “Why shouldn’t I? If Lord Northam took the trouble to arrange a surprise, the least I can do is look my best for it.”
The duke seemed to regard the evening as some sort of occasion as well, for he appeared very smartly turned out in a dark green coat and crisp, fresh linen.
Leah’s heart gave a silly flutter when he regarded her with an admiring smile and offered her his arm. She could understand what had drawn the late duchess to her husband when they first met in an elegant London assembly room. Little had the high-spirited young debutante guessed that a handsome face and pleasing manner would lure her into a dull, restricted life, from which there could be no escape.
Part of Leah welcomed the reminder that a woman should not let a passing fancy get the better of her good sense. Yet her sympathy for the duke reproached her. She knew better than to suspect he had ever intended to make his vivacious young bride unhappy. He had only wanted to protect her and their baby from the consequences of her impulsive behavior.
“A penny for your thoughts, Miss Shaw.” The duke’s tone of gentle banter stirred Leah from her conflicted musings. “Are you trying to contrive a way to coax me into revealing my surprise prematurely?”
“Not at all.” She was able to answer truthfully, “Though I would appreciate a hint to ease my curiosity.”
The duke gave a delightful mellow chuckle as he held her chair. “On that score, I fear I must disappoint you, my dear. With your nimble wits, I suspect the smallest clue might lead you to guess what I have in store. That would defeat the whole purpose of the surprise. Surely heightened curiosity and anticipation are a great part of the appeal.”
“You have me there, Your Grace.” Leah could not deny her anticipation. No doubt that was responsible for the heady froth of emotions that bubbled within her. They had nothing to do with the fact that Lord Northam had addressed her as his ‘dear’ again.
“I will endeavor to divert your thoughts,” he offered. “Pray tell me more about these children with whom Kit is corresponding. Apart from Lady Steadwell’s stepdaughter, are they all pupils of your school friends?”
Leah welcomed the diversion. “My friend Evangeline is governess to the Chase boys and their sisters. Their father is a prosperous mill owner in the North. Peter Lord Edgecombe is the stepson of my friend Hannah.”
The duke seemed to approve. No doubt he was relieved to hear the other children would be suitable acquaintances for his son. “I recall you telling me that most of your friends have taken husbands. I hope those other unions have proven as happy as Lord and Lady Steadwell’s.”
Dinner had been served and the duke conversed in a casual manner while they ate. Yet Leah sensed his last remark was more than an idle pleasantry.
“My friends certainly appeared very happy when we were together at Hannah’s wedding.” She tried not to sound suspicious of his motives for raising the subject. “Nothing in their letters has suggested otherwise.”
“I am pleased to hear it,” replied the duke with obvious sincerity. “I do not wish to provoke another argument, but I feel bound to point out the experience of your friends would appear to contradict your grandmother’s views about marriage.”
Must they discuss that particular subject again?
Leah inhaled a deep breath and tried to avoid taking or giving offense. “I do not believe it does. It is true my friends seem content in their marriages and for that I rejoice. But we are all very different women who need different things to make us happy. Rebecca has always craved security. Grace longed for acceptance. Hannah sought an appreciative outlet for her devotion. Marriage to good, worthy men was able to provide each what she required.”
The duke made no effort to interrupt her but listened intently. He seemed sincerely anxious to understand.
“But women like Evangeline and me,” Leah continued, “...and perhaps your late wife, place a high value on our freedom. By its very nature, the most loving marriage would still limit that freedom.”
Lord Northam chewed on a morsel of roast pheasant which was so tender it scarcely required such determined effort. Was he mentally gnawing on the tough bone of an idea she had offered him?
“But you are a woman of faith, are you not?” The duke’s brow furrowed in an endearing manner that made Leah long to smooth it out. “How do you reconcile your wish for freedom with the obedience and trust the Lord requires of his followers?”
Usually Leah deflected such serious inquiries about her beliefs with a flippant jest. But with Hayden Latimer, somehow it felt natural to share such a vital part of herself. Perhaps if he understood her, it would help him to understand his late wife and make peace with the differences that had strained their marriage.
There might be more to it than that, a glimmer of insight warned her, but she chose to ignore it.
“The Lord may require many things of us.” She chose her words carefully, wanting to explain in a way the duke could truly understand. “But He does not compel us against our will. We are not like those little play figures of Kit’s that move and act however he makes them. We always have a choice whether or not to believe, to trust or to act in accordance with our faith. To me that freedom is the most precious gift of a loving Creator.”
The duke did not respond immediately, but continued to consume his dinner in thoughtful silence. Could he begin to comprehend views so very different from his own?
At last he looked up as if suddenly reminded of Leah’s presence. “Kit seems to like that chair of his. It was a clever idea. I am grateful to you for proposing it.”
Had he made any effort to grasp what she had taken such pains to explain? Leah tried not to mind the sting of that doubt. “I only wish I could devise a means for him to go up and down stairs safely without being carried.”
The duke shuddered. “That is one of my greatest fears for him.”
Though not the only one, Leah knew. If she somehow found a solution, what barrier to his son’s emancipation would Lord Northam put up next? Much as she had come to sympathize with the duke and admire him in many ways, his overprotectiveness did try her patience.
It made her think again how certain women were less suited for the restrictions of marriage. Might it not also be true that certain men made their unions more confining than others? Lord Northam had proven himself that kind of man—much more than her friends’ husbands. It was scarcely a wonder his marriage to a free spirit like Kit’s mother had been strained.
The duke steered their conversation to a safer subject—the history of Renforth Abbey—and the remainder of their dinner passed pleasantly. When it concluded and Leah prepared to take her leave, Lord Northam reminded her, “You have not seen your surprise yet.”
“It slipped my mind entirely,” she confessed. “Am I to see it now?”
His Grace nodded. “May I prevail upon you to close your eyes?”
“Why?”
“If I tell you, it will spoil the surprise,” he replied in a playful tone. But his direct blue gaze conveyed an earnest plea that was far more compelling. “Humor me for a few moments.”
Humor him? She could manage that, surely.
“Very well.” Leah shut her eyes only to discover the lack of sight heightened her other senses.
She was suddenly aware of the muted clink of china and quiet voices as the servants cleared the table.
“Now give me your hands.” The duke’s voice, coming from nearer than she expected, made her start.
When she hesitated
, he added, “There is only a little way to go and I promise to guide you safely. Trust me.”
That would be a good deal more difficult than humoring him. But how could she doubt so protective a man would allow her to come to any harm? Leah raised her hands and held them out in front of her.
An instant later she felt the duke’s strong hands lightly clasp her fingers.
“This way.” He drew her forward.
Where was he taking her? Leah wondered. She had lost all sense of direction. Wherever it was, part of her hoped they would not reach their destination too soon.
The lightness of Lord Northam’s touch suggested that he regarded her hands as precious objects, which must be handled with the greatest care. At the same time his grip was firm enough to convey his determination to safeguard her from any harm. Never in her life had she felt so highly regarded.
It did not take a great many steps to get where they were going, yet for Leah, time seemed suspended as she savored the unaccustomed luxury of placing her trust in someone else.
After two brief pauses to open and close a door, the duke murmured, “Only a moment now.”
Conscious of cooler air upon her arms and neck, Leah guessed where they were, though an unexpected scent puzzled her.
“You may open your eyes now.”
Leah fought a strange inclination to keep them closed and linger in the private space bounded only by the duke’s voice and his touch. After a brief struggle, she forced her eyes open and let out a soft gasp.
After weeks of wintery gloom, a perfect riot of the brightest colors beguiled her vision while the heady aroma of new life offered a feast of scent.
“What is all this?” She gazed around in wonder at the cloisters of Renforth Abbey, illuminated by the flicker of tiny brass lamps. Pots overflowing with spring flowers lined both sides of the tiled walkway. More greenery cascaded from baskets hung between the tall mullioned windows.
Some of the flower petals were closing for the night, but enough were still open to create a vivid living tapestry. Golden daffodils and narcissus. Deep yellow, purple and white crocuses. Tulips in a vast array of brilliant hues. Hyacinths in a rainbow of delicate pastel shades.
“You approve, then?” The duke’s question drew her gaze back to him. His smile was the brightest thing in the room and his eyes by far the most beautiful color. “I thought you might appreciate an early taste of spring, so I consulted my head gardener. He assures me that by the time these have ceased to bloom, there will be plenty of snowdrops and crocuses budding outdoors.”
“You did all this... for me?” Leah walked the length of the cloister, drinking in the beauty around her. She marveled at how Lord Northam had captured the essence of springtime, wrapped it in a bow and made her a gift of it.
A delightful shiver went through her that had nothing to do with the temperature.
The duke had no way of knowing its cause, however.
“Forgive me!” he cried. “I should have brought a wrap for you. The gardeners put out clay pots full of coals to keep the plants warm. But I fear it is not enough to insure your comfort.”
Hearing a rustle, Leah turned to assure His Grace that she was not chilled. Before she could get all the way around, something warm slipped over her shoulders. She realized it was his coat.
She wanted to protest and insist he take it back, but she could not. The garment seemed to wrap her in a warm but restrained embrace. The faint tang of Lord Northam’s soap enveloped her, an intriguing counterpoint to the pervading floral sweetness.
The sight of him left her speechless too. His snowy white shirtsleeves billowed out from a dark-colored waistcoat embroidered with threads of gold. Without his coat, the duke looked like a different man—less cautious, more daring and dashing.
To compensate for Leah’s silence, he answered her earlier question. “Of course I had it done for you. Who else? I know Renforth Abbey is not at its best in winter and that has weighed on your spirits. So I thought I might hurry springtime along.”
Slowly the duke raised his hand until the backs of his fingers rested against her cheek in a feather-light caress. “I want you to be happy here, Leah.”
It was the first time he had spoken her given name without adding “Miss” the way his son did. That, together with the familiarity of his touch kindled a blistering blaze in her cheeks. Did he realize what he was doing?
Of course he did. That insight struck Leah as she stood frozen in place, torn between contrary inclinations. New, strange feelings made her want this moment between them to grow sweeter still. Even when long-held beliefs urged her to put a safe distance between herself and any man.
Hayden Latimer knew precisely what he was doing because he had done it before. He had captured the heart of a lady and married her. Then, with the kindest intentions, he had gradually restricted her freedom, as he would later with their child.
That thought made Leah flinch as if she feared he might strike her.
“It is lovely, Your Grace.” She tore off his coat and thrust it back at him, trying to ignore his look of shock and hurt. “I am obliged to you for going to so much trouble on my account, but it is getting late and I should retire for the night.”
“But Leah,” the duke called after her as she hurried away. “...I mean Miss Shaw, please let me speak.”
She was nearly to the door by that time. Much as she ached to turn back Leah knew she dared not.
“We can speak tomorrow,” she called back over her shoulder trying to feign a casual tone but failing miserably.
Though she knew he was too much of a gentleman to pursue her, she fled to her room as fast as her feet would carry her, her heart pounding with fear. She did not bolt her door behind her. That would do no good.
Instead she wished someone would lock it from the outside to restrain her, in case her confused emotions got the better of her.
Chapter Twelve
HE HAD BEEN making such fine progress at courting Leah, until his disastrous misstep drove her away. Now that he had addressed Kit’s governess by her given name, Hayden found it impossible to think of her any other way.
All night he tossed and turned, recalling how well the evening had progressed. They had enjoyed a pleasant dinner and managed to discuss their differing views without animosity. The whole time, his anticipation had risen as he prepared to reveal his carefully planned surprise. He had pictured the look on her face, trying to imagine how she would react to the foretaste of spring he’d assembled for her.
By the time he’d been ready to lead her to the cloisters, his heart was racing with a mixture of exhilaration and anxiety. What if, contrary to all expectation, Leah did not like what he’d done? He had pushed aside that fear, urging her to close her eyes and trust him to lead her. To his surprise and satisfaction, she had agreed. Perhaps, for all her talk of freedom, she secretly yearned to have someone watch out for her—someone on whom she knew she could always rely. The sensation of her slender fingers clasped in his hand was so very pleasant Hayden had longed to lead her all over the house before reaching their destination.
When he’d finally told Leah to open her eyes, her reaction was beyond anything he could have hoped for. The way her hazel eyes widened with wonder, her soft intake of breath and the way her whole face glowed had overwhelmed him with tender happiness. Was there anything he would not be prepared to do if it might bring her such delight?
When she shivered with cold, Hayden had chided himself for that overlooked detail. Yet he could not regret it altogether, since it provided a further opportunity for him to be of service. The coat he’d draped around her slender shoulders was a substitute for the arms which ached to enfold her—keeping her close and safe always.
Then in a tone of disbelief, she’d asked if he had prepared such a wonderful surprise for her. Her question confirmed his earlier suspicion that Leah had never truly experienced the loving care she deserved.
At far too young an age she had been thrust into the role of gu
ide, companion and caregiver to her grandmother. She had been forced to watch in helpless outrage as the old woman came to rely on something stronger, that would enslave and destroy her. Sent away to that barbaric school, Leah had tried to help her friends by drawing their teachers’ cruelty upon herself. Most recently, in her profession as a governess, she had guided and cared for her pupils.
No wonder she placed such a high value on self-reliance. Who else had she ever had to depend on? It was long past time she experience the freedom of having someone nurture her.
A conviction like that was too powerful to resist. He had been compelled to act upon it, if only by grazing her cheek with his hand.
But that had been a grave mistake. Hayden rolled over and pummeled his pillow in a fruitless effort to relieve his anger with himself. Why could he not have been content with the promising beginning he’d made? How could he have ignored the caution that was bred so deep in his bones?
Yet strenuously as he questioned his own actions, Hayden could not help questioning Leah’s reaction. He was certain she welcomed the liberty he had taken. After all, he was not some gangling boy out in Society for the first time, bewildered by the mysterious ways of women. He recognized when a lady was receptive to his attentions, even if she might not be fully aware of it herself. Leah Shaw had given every indication she found his company more than agreeable. Her whole manner had appealed for a clear sign of his feelings.
What were his feelings toward her? Hayden asked himself as he rose to face the day.
He could not deny he found the lady very attractive and most stimulating company. He admired her indomitable spirit and sympathized with the many harsh experiences she had endured. His plan to wed her might be borne of necessity and concern for his son, but that did not mean marrying Kit’s governess would represent any hardship.
But did he love her? Hayden’s conscience persisted as his valet shaved him and helped him dress.
Perhaps not, he concluded after a rigorous examination of his heart. But surely that was best for all concerned. He had been wildly in love with Celia, of whom Leah reminded him in far too many ways. Perhaps if there had been less emotion and more prudence on both their parts, their marriage might have been happier. That was what he wanted, for Kit’s sake—a stable, comfortable, lasting union.
