“Look Father, isn’t she sweet?”
“Yes, Barbara.” The duke nodded to Jenny. “I told Irvine to allow William a canter once they were clear of the wood.”
“Oh, he will be thrilled!”
When his glance swept over her, her hand went to her brooch, recalling the previous evening when he’d found her inappropriately dressed. “Lavender won’t get up much speed,” he said. “I see no harm in it in any event. William handles the horse well. If, that is, he’s watched closely and isn’t left to his own devices, and decides to jump a fence.”
She nodded, disconcerted. She was pleased for William, but something about the duke today made her pulse race, perhaps it was how handsome he looked, or was it how he looked at her?
“Father, can I take this cat to the nursery? She misses Carrot,” Barbara said, breaching the silence that had settled between them, and saving Jenny from uttering an inane comment about the weather, the only thing she could think of. The duke’s presence had an absurd effect on her today.
“Put down the cat, Barbara,” he said. “One is quite enough in the nursery.” His Grace held out his hand to his daughter, his eyes twinkling. “One too many you might say,” he said as an aside to Jenny, then gave her the benefit of his devastating smile she saw so rarely. “Look Barbara, here is your pony.”
Barbara released her father’s hand as Jem emerged from the stable leading the small piebald and skipped toward him, but her father, in two quick strides, took hold of her hand again.
Jenny enjoyed the tender sight of him lifting his small daughter onto the saddle while the groom held the pony’s bridle. She turned to leave.
“Miss Harrismith?”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
He bent over the stirrups. “You are handling this worrying business exceedingly well. I am relieved and very grateful.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Her cheeks heated, and her pulse galloped, pleased he didn’t see her foolish smile.
He straightened and handed the rein to Jem. “Barbara will be ready to return to the house in an hour.”
She sank into a small curtsey. “Very well, Your Grace.”
His brows flickered down. He turned and walked after the groom who led Barbara’s pony from the stable yard. The duke’s praise meant far more to her than it should. What an idiot to soak up every kind word he bestowed on her, she thought appalled. She was like a silly green girl mooning over her first love.
As she made her way across the cobbles, the baroness appeared with her brother, and Mr. Forsythe.
So beautifully dressed, Baroness Elsenberg made Jenny uncomfortably conscious of her serviceable fern green wool morning gown. It had never been a thing of beauty.
Her crop tucked under one arm, she tugged at her York tan gloves, and strolled over to Jenny. “Miss Harrismith. Here you are again. In Germany governesses are seldom seen,” she said. “And never without their charges.”
Jenny curtsied, with a stiff smile. “His Grace has just taken Lady Barbara for a riding lesson, Baroness.”
“And you are not with them? How surprising.” Tapping the crop against her leg the baroness strode off to join the men waiting by the mounting block, while the groom, Marcus disappeared into the stables to fetch their horses.
Jenny swiveled and walked away, bewildered by the anger in the Baroness’ pale eyes.
“Miss Harrismith.” Herr Von Bremen approached her.
“Yes, sir?”
He came too close. It would be seen as rude should she step back away from him although her instincts told her to. “You must excuse my sister,” he said. “She is rather short-tempered this morning.”
“I hardly think that concerns me, sir,” she said, attempting to hide her disquiet.
He bent toward her. “Do you know your gray eyes are as clear as water? Are you as principled as you appear, Miss Harrismith?”
“I believe I am.” Surely he didn’t expect her to deny it? While she wondered what lay behind his extraordinary question, she just wanted to escape him. But how, without seeming rude? “I walked over to see the hill you spoke of, sir.” she said in an attempt to draw the conversation onto something less personal.
His expression grew pensive and a blond eyebrow lifted. “And did you climb it?”
She forced a smile. “No, of course, I didn’t climb it. Did you really reach the top?” she added a touch of breathless wonder, then waited to see what he made of it.
He chuckled. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me out in a lie. I failed. Gave up halfway. I’m inherently lazy, Miss Harrismith. Too much effort required.”
“I considered the climb impossible without the aid of a rope,” she said. “Is there a better way to scale it from the northern end, perhaps?”
“Mm. That might be easier, yes.” He observed her closely, making her fear she’d said too much.
“Well, I doubt I’ll make the attempt.”
“Perhaps you might inquire of the duke, you seem to be on excellent terms with him.”
Jenny drew in a breath. “My only concern is that His Grace finds my work satisfactory.”
He nodded. “You are fond… of the children, yes?”
“But of course.” She glanced over his shoulder. “I believe the baroness wishes to ride.”
He turned to find his sister and Mr. Forsythe on horseback. She was talking animatedly to the duke’s cousin, who listened intently.
With a nod to Jenny, Von Bremen walked away.
Jenny hurried from the stable yard before he changed his mind and called her back. She found him and his ambiguous comments disturbing and hoped he had not returned when she came to fetch Barbara.
*
Andrew rested a booted foot on the bottom rail of the paddock fence and smiled at Barbara, chattering nonstop in her sweet voice as Jem led her around the paddock. She wasn’t a bit afraid of horses. He was proud of his spirited child, who seemed at such an early age to have an unequivocal way of looking at life. She either liked something, or she didn’t. And if she loved you, she did it with gusto, as with her brother. When she called to him, he nodded his approval with a smile. He had discovered the joys of being a father, and to watch her grow into a lovely woman like her mother, but physically stronger, with confidence to face the world, would be an everlasting delight.
The pony behaved well as if affected by the enthusiasm of her rider. Ponies were often bad tempered, but since this piebald had befriended Andrew’s horse, Cicero, she’d become a favorite in the stables.
Jem led Barbara back to him, and Andrew lifted her down. “Did you enjoy your ride, sweetheart?”
“Yes. Rosie did too,” she said matter-of-factly. “Can I see Misty, Father?”
He took her hand. “For a few minutes. Miss Harrismith will be waiting to take you up for luncheon.”
Barbara frowned. “Why couldn’t Jenny come and watch me ride my pony?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Did you want her to?”
“Jenny would like it.”
“Oh? Well next time we shall invite her.” He would have liked that too, but unwise perhaps, to expose the governess to any more of Greta’s unfair criticism.
Miss Harrismith waited in the stable yard. With a thoughtful nod in her direction, Andrew released Barbara into her care and walked over to mount Cicero. He had promised to meet Greta, Ivo, and Raymond as they had decided to ride to the waterfall. Not something he cared to do, but his neglect of his guests had begun to weigh heavily upon him.
When he reached the river he met Ivo riding back.
“You didn’t wish to see the falls?”
“No. I’ve had enough. They’ll be along in a moment.”
“I’ll go and meet them.”
“You’ll find me in the billiard room, Your Grace. Perhaps we might have a game later.” Ivo rode away.
Andrew turned Cicero’s head and rode on.
A half hour later, his horse picked its way down through the glade where the stream flowed over a wa
terfall. Below, water swirled around a deep pool and rushed on. The air was damp. Birds swooped and called as he made his way down. Ferns grew lushly along the path. He could see no sign of Greta or Raymond. Ivo had given him to expect to meet them on their way back.
When he reached the bottom, he dismounted and stood to watch the water cascade down the rocky cliff sending wide ripples over the surface of the pool, the spray dampening his skin. The roar filled his ears, but from somewhere came the sound of laughter.
Andrew led his horse by the rein along the path through dense woodland thick with vines and bramble. Around a bend two horses were tied to a branch.
Moments later, Greta, patting her hair, climbed the steep slope with Raymond.
“It’s lovely here,” Greta called to him. “I thought perhaps you weren’t going to join us.”
“Well here I am,” he said pleasantly.
Raymond failed to meet Andrew’s eyes.
Had his neglect sent her into Raymond’s arms? Greta could easily walk away from a flirtation, but Raymond? Andrew very much doubted his cousin would handle it well. As for himself, he searched his own heart and found only indifference.
They mounted and rode single-file silently along the narrow forest path. By the time they reached the river, Andrew had already dismissed the incident from his thoughts. Instead, it was Miss Harrismith’s compassion and concern for his children he preferred to dwell on, recalling her earnest face and her obvious affection for them. But there was something else, he found himself thinking about her at the oddest times. In fact, if he was being honest, he was thinking about her quite often.
When they reached the wider path leading to the carriage drive, Greta drew her mare alongside Andrew’s.
As if he sensed a quarrel, Raymond dropped back behind them.
Greta stole a glance at him. “Harrow, I hope you don’t think anything untoward occurred between Mr. Forsythe and me.”
“No. Should I have?”
She gave a bemused laugh. “I rather hoped you might be jealous.”
Andrew was suddenly profoundly sick of the games. “It looks like rain. We should hurry.” Cicero needed little urging and cantered along the path. He hoped for Raymond’s sake Greta put a stop to it, before it went too far.
Chapter Sixteen
After luncheon, Jenny set William some grammar to do while she taught Barbara her alphabet. It had been difficult to settle the boy down. He still bubbled over with excitement about his canter with Mr. Irvine. “He’s an excellent rider, Jenny,” William said for the third time. “Perhaps we’ll gallop next time, Lavender was itching for it.”
“I don’t think so, William.”
“Oh? Well. You should have been there, Jenny. When Herr Von Bremen rode up to us, Mr. Irvine, quick as a flash, wheeled his mount around to face him.” He dragged in a breath. “And he placed his horse between Herr Von Bremen’s and mine.” William laughed. “Poor Herr Von Bremen was most astonished.”
“Oh, yes, I can quite see how he would be. What did he do then?” Irvine was up to the task it seemed.
“He inquired if Mr. Irvine was our new groom.”
“And what did Mr. Irvine say?”
“That he was here to instruct me in riding and advise my father on his stable. He came from the Marquess of Strathairn’s horse stud in Yorkshire, you know, Jenny. I would love to go there and see his horses.”
The Marquess’ estate wasn’t such a distance from Jenny’s home. “He has had great success with his horses.”
“Mr. Irvine said the Marquess’ racehorses have won many trophies.”
“And did Herr Von Bremen ride back to the house with you?”
“No. He rode off. He looked angry. But why would he be, Jenny?”
“I’m sure I have no idea. But this isn’t getting your work done, is it?”
She turned back to Barbara who had continued chanting her letters in the background. “My, but you are quick to learn, Lady Barbara.”
“This says b-o-y boy. See? I can read to myself. You won’t have to read to me anymore, Jenny.”
“You can! But I like reading to you. Don’t you like it too?”
Barbara nodded. “When I’m sleepy, specially.”
Jenny paused as the special knock sounded. “Now who can this be?”
She opened the door to find George stepping aside for His Grace.
The duke came into the room. “Was it you who conceived the signal, Miss Harrismith?”
“Yes, it seemed a good idea.” She wondered if he thought she was dramatizing the situation, but every time someone knocked she wanted to know whether it was friend or foe who stood outside that door.
“It certainly cannot hurt.” He had changed into a charcoal gray coat and buff trousers, the blue stripes on his waistcoat a perfect match for his eyes. “Am I interrupting lessons?”
As if it mattered. She smiled up at him, pleased to see him, far more than she should be.
He held a brown paper parcel tied up with string.
Both her charges were now out of their seats to better inspect it. “What have you brought, Father?” William asked.
His Grace handed the package to him. “A toy I bought in Vienna I’d forgotten to give you.”
William tore away the paper. Barbara squealed. The toy was a simple wooden handle with a cup at the top. A string was attached at one end to the handle and the other to a small ball.
“This is how it’s done.” The duke took it from William. He flicked it in an attempt to get the ball to fall into the cup. After several failed attempts he handed it to William.
Jenny lowered he head and tried not to grin.
“Practice makes perfect, William,” his father said raising his eyebrows at Jenny, a smile lifting a corner of his mouth.
William and Barbara darted off around the room engrossed in the toy.
The room was soon filled with the clatter of ball meeting handle, and their groans, when it failed to fall into the cup.
His Grace drew Jenny aside. His serious blue eyes sought hers. “I have yet to speak to Irvine. Did William’s ride go well?
“Very well,” she said quietly. “Apparently, they were met by Herr Von Bremen. Mr. Irvine took precautions and wielded his horse around to shield Lord William. The German gentleman seemed angry and rode off.”
The duke turned. “William? Where were you and Mr. Irvine when you met with Herr Von Bremen?”
“It was over toward the gamekeeper’s cottage, Father. We’d just cantered across a field. The one with the big old oak split down the middle by lightning,” William said, without raising his head from the toy.
“It does sound as if Mr. Irvine knows his business,” Jenny said.
William and Barbara burst into laughter. “I’ve done it, Father.” William proudly brought the toy to his father to show the ball sitting in the cup.
“Well done, William,” his father said. “Now give it to your sister and return to your work.”
William handed it over, but began to instruct Barbara with the voice of experience.
“I can do it, William,” she said turning her back on him. The ball was flying in all directions, and Jenny hoped it wouldn’t do any damage either to Barbara or the vase of flowers on a nearby table.
“It is an excessively noisy toy,” His Grace said, with an apologetic laugh. “I hope you won’t curse me for it, Miss Harrismith.”
“How could I when it gives them such pleasure? Nevertheless, I shall confiscate it shortly.”
He nodded, smiling down at her for a moment. “A wise decision.” He stirred himself. “I must go. William, you will breakfast with me tomorrow. Time to learn the social graces.”
An eager light leapt into William’s blue eyes. “Before my ride, Father?”
“Before your ride.” He gave Jenny a conspiratorial wink and walked out the door. The room suddenly seemed empty and left Jenny as well as the children a little unsettled.
*
“Come in, Mr. Ir
vine.” Andrew gestured to a seat. “My son approves of you, it seems.”
Irvine smiled. “Well, I have a youngster at home, Your Grace. And the wife wants several more.”
Andrew smiled. “Then you’d best return to the apothecary business. But not quite yet, I hope.”
He smiled. “No, I like a challenge.”
“That reminds me,” Andrew said, “of the fine job you and Strathairn did protecting the king.”
“It was Lord Strathairn, Your Grace. I was injured.”
“Nevertheless, I’m sure you took a part in it. Tell me what occurred during the ride with my son. Did you see or hear anything unusual?”
“Only the German gentleman.”
“Where was he off to? Did he say?”
“Said he liked looking around. Our woodlands are different to his country. Bit of a birdwatcher apparently.”
“Is he indeed?” Andrew struggled to equate Ivo with birdwatching.
“He wished to join us, but I fobbed him off. Looked a bit annoyed at that. Asked me if I was a groom. When I explained that my business here concerned your horses, he left.”
Andrew nodded. “Good work, Mr. Irvine. Take a different route each time, but avoid the river path.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
When Andrew returned to the library, he found his secretary, Bishop, had placed a pile of letters on his desk. When he leafed through them, he found one from Strathairn. He picked up the letter opener and slit it open, perusing it quickly. Strathairn had investigated Herr Von Bremen. No evidence was found that he was connected to any German dissident groups. Ivo had spent a good deal of the last few years in Paris where he was known to be an inveterate gambler.
The last paragraph caught Andrew’s attention and set up a new line of thought. Although the baroness had been left a comfortable fortune, Strathairn wrote, it is believed that Von Bremen, who handles her money, has been gambling it away. It seemed clear that Ivo had a very good reason to push for a marriage between him and Greta.
Andrew dropped the letter onto the desk. Ivo was doomed to disappointment, but he did feel more than a little sorry for Greta who had confidently avowed she’d been left a very comfortable stipend. He suspected she had no idea of the state of her finances. He deliberated whether to warn her, but he’d be hard pressed to explain how he came to learn of it.
Regency Scandals and Scoundrels Collection Page 59
