He was silent for a moment before replying, and she found herself holding her breath. Was she doing the right thing in asking a man of his standing to advise her? What did a gardener know, truly, of running an estate the size of Blackwood Estates? However, deep in her heart, she knew he was the right man.
“I accept,” he finally whispered, and Caroline reveled in his words, knowing she had, indeed, made the right decision.
Chapter Six
Life was strange, or so thought Philip as he walked along the garden path. He had risen two hours earlier, and although he was no longer the gardener for the estate, he could not stop himself from being out among the flowers and trees that had become his life for so long. How strange that he had come to find employment here at Blackwood Estates with thoughts of completing a single task. Yet, that plan was jeopardized when he accepted the request Caroline had made the night before. It was not that he did not wish to come to the woman’s aid, for she clearly needed guidance. However, he was not the man to help her, as he had mentioned to her before.
He sighed. In all honesty, it was more than that; it was because he had grown especially fond of the woman. Unsure when it had happened, for he had not recognized it for what it was until it was much too late, he tried to suppress those old feelings he had long since buried, and he did not have it in him to experience them anytime soon. Not for his sake, but for hers.
To fall in love again would be more than a bit inconvenient, and he did not wish to give Caroline the wrong impression. She had no love for her husband, and he knew she would seek it, even if she could not see it as so. It was in her eyes, clouded with torment, that she was in need of a healing touch. How he wished to be the one to ease that pain, to remove her hurts and in the process removing his own. He possessed an agony so great, a loss so deep, that it was not a journey he wished to take again. For at the end of his current journey, only more pain awaited him. And if he grew close to her, she would learn of what he had done, would learn about his past, and he could not allow that life to touch her.
Timid footsteps approached from behind, and he smiled. “Your steps are loud,” he said without turning. Caroline laughed, and he cursed himself inwardly for enjoying it.
“How is it you have the hearing of a fox?” she asked. “Tell me, were you raised in the forest?” She came to stand beside him.
He looked over and soaked in her beauty. The yellow dress set off her blond tresses, and the tiny brown flowers matched her eyes. He could look at her for hours if he was given the chance to do so.
“The secret is out, then,” he said, keeping a serious expression on his face. “I was raised in a forest by a band of hermits led by a fox.”
The tinkling laugh almost made him break into a smile. “Oh, Philip, you are so silly.”
He glanced at her, maintaining the solemn appearance, and she took a step back.
“Were you really raised by them?” she asked in shock.
“Indeed. For years, I was forced to hunt wild game at night with my bare hands.” He raised his hands toward her as if they were claws. “During the day, I read books.”
Her eyes widened, and he had to fight back another laugh.
“Then, when women such as yourself came along in the woods…”
“Yes?” she whispered, her expectation clear.
“I would bark like a dog at them.”
This made them both laugh, and she playfully slapped at his arm again. “You almost had me convinced; although, I do not see you as that wild man you tried to portray. No, you are far better than that, far more domesticated.”
He gave her a smile. To know that such a creature as the one who stood before him thought of him as something better than he appeared was a great compliment.
“I know very little about you,” she continued. “You are a man of few words, and I cannot have you guarding me without knowing something about you.”
Worry washed over him, for he had no desire to speak of his past, and the thought of lying to this woman made him uncomfortable.
She did not seem to notice his discomfort, however. “Therefore, you will accompany me into town today. While I am speaking to Mr. Baxter about business, I would like you to see to having new clothes ordered.”
“Caroline,” he said, raising his hand. “You are kind, but I cannot accept such a gift.”
“You would defy your Duchess?” she demanded in a haughty tone.
He chuckled. “You know I would not do such a thing.”
“Good. You will purchase one set of ready-made clothing so you can dine with Oliver and me as our honored guest this evening. I would also like you to see the tailor and have at least three suits made. It would not do to have you wearing the same clothing you wore as a gardener now that you have been promoted to a new position.”
Nothing could have stopped the smile that spread across his face. However, it was not for receiving new clothing.
“And at what do you smile?” she asked.
“You,” came his reply. “It is nice to see you smile again. I feared it would be something I would never see.”
She sighed. “I must admit, I feared very much the same for a very long time.”
***
Oliver had remained at home to complete his lessons for the day as Philip and Caroline rode into town an hour earlier. Philip had already purchased clothing for dinner as Caroline had requested, and an order had been taken by the tailor after one of the man’s helpers gathered Philip’s measurements. It was strange to have such attention paid to him, and he was glad to now be on his way to meet Caroline outside of Baxter and Sons.
As he neared the offices, he smiled when the Dowager Duchess exited the building, the sun catching the highlights in the wisps of hair that peeked out from her bonnet. He could not believe what a beautiful creature she was—and how fortunate he was to be in her company. Granted, it was as her employee, but that was enough for him.
“How did it go?” he asked when he came to stand beside her.
She smiled. “Extremely well. I have hired the company to attend to all of the business matters. Mr. Baxter, the father that is, was such a kind man.” She tilted her head at him. “However, when I spoke of you, he did not seem to recognize your name.”
Philip laughed. “Are you surprised he did not know the name of your gardener?” he asked with amusement. “The fact of the matter is, previous employers have spoken of him; that is how I knew to come to him.”
“I see,” Caroline said with a nod. Then she sighed heavily. “Oh, bother. These two women coming toward us are nothing but a couple of gossips. I do not wish to speak to them.”
Philip grinned as he watched the women approach. Blond curls lined both of their youthful faces, and Philip could just make out one set of blue eyes and one set of brown beneath the shade of the hats they wore.
The two women stopped in front of Caroline, and the first, whose blue dress matched her eyes perfectly, said, “Oh, Madam, we were so sorry to hear of the death of your husband.” She spoke with exaggerated concern and brought her hand to her breast dramatically.
Philip could see that what Caroline had said was true; the moment these women left her presence, anything she said would be spread far and wide.
“Such pain you must be suffering,” the second said with much solicitude as she spoke over her friend, her green dress dotted with tiny white daisies swishing around her feet. “Surely you will be wanting to host a party to express your heartbreak.”
Caroline replied with a small nod.
Philip cleared his throat, and both women gave an intake of breath as they turned to look at him. “Ladies,” he said with a small bow, “my name is Philip Butler, and I am Her Grace’s protector.”
The woman in the blue dress leaned in toward her companion and whispered, “I did not know she had a protector,” she said, as if she did not realize he could hear what she was saying. Then to Philip she said, “I am Miss Barnsworthy. This is my friend, Miss Cuplin, and we hav
e been acquainted with the Dutchess for some years now.”
Philip stifled a chuckle. “Be that as it may, Her Grace has been distraught, and rightly so.”
Both women nodded. “But of course she would be,” Miss Cuplin replied. “She has lost her husband. Any woman would be distraught if she were in her position.”
“I am glad you understand,” Philip replied. “In her current state, she would like me to pass on something to those such as yourselves.”
“Of course,” Miss Barnsworthy said. “Anything that can help ease her pain.”
Philip gave them a smile. “To quote her exact words: ‘Due to the untimely death of His Grace, the Duke of Browning, and my husband, I have decided to take on a vow of silence for the next few months. Please do not count my lack of words or rejections of any events as rude but rather as a time for me to attempt to heal the wounds in my heart as well as in that of our son, Oliver.’” He bowed deeper when he finished.
Miss Cuplin pulled a kerchief from a cuff and dabbed at her eye. “That is the most beautiful gesture,” she said. “May we pass on this knowledge to others?”
“That would please Her Grace and, of course, find you in her favor.”
Both women grinned like schoolgirls who had received top marks.
“Now, if you will excuse us, we must be on our way.” He gave the women one more bow before offering Caroline his arm. She placed her hand on it and the two walked away, the admiration of the women clear in the reflection of a nearby window.
“I believe six months is an adequate amount of time to keep you free from the prying interests of women and the hands of men who seek yours only for their gain.” He laughed. “I hope you do not mind.”
“Philip Butler,” she said with a wide grin, “of course, I do not mind!” They approached the waiting carriage, and Philip opened the door. Before stepping up, Caroline shared another of her wonderful smiles with him. “You amaze me every day. I consider myself lucky to have a friend such as yourself.”
Although he wished to tell her the same, he knew he could not. “I am glad to be of service,” he said instead and then helped her into the carriage.
Perhaps one day he would be able to share with her what was on his heart, but for now, it was enough to simply be in her presence.
***
The smell of roast lamb in wine sauce made Philip’s stomach grumble. He would have found it less embarrassing if Oliver had not giggled at him, clearly having heard it and finding it amusing as oftentimes young boys did. Caroline did not seem to notice, however, much to Philip’s relief. The candles lit her face, and she smiled widely as she lifted her wine glass to him.
“Thank you for joining us this evening,” she said.
“And I thank you for the invitation,” Philip replied, also lifting his glass to her.
“Mr. Butler,” Oliver said as he sat across from Philip on Caroline’s right hand, “have you ever gone fishing before?”
“Yes, I have, young master,” Philip replied. “Do you enjoy it?”
The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. I want to go, but I’m not sure how to go about it. Could you teach me?”
His innocent brown eyes, looking very much like his mother’s, made it difficult for Philip to deny the boy his request. Yet, he should, for he feared a growing attachment to the boy. To find himself separated from both the boy and his mother would be unbearable.
Caroline, however, was appalled. “Oliver, you should not be asking such things of Mr. Butler. He has other tasks with which to concern himself. He does not need to be traipsing after a young boy who is not in his care.”
Oliver lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”
Philip set his fork on his plate and looked at Caroline through his hair. He still could not get himself to look at her directly. “I will honor any request you make of me,” he said meaningfully.
“Very well,” she replied after a moment of thought. “Tomorrow, after your studies, of course, you may go fishing, and Mr. Butler will accompany you. But you must give Miss Lindston your gravest attention.”
The boy nodded emphatically. “I will, Mother. I promise!” He returned to his dinner with fervor, clearly excited for the following day’s activities.
When everyone appeared to have eaten as much as they could, Caroline turned to Oliver and said, “Miss Lindston will see you to bed. I will be up shortly to read you a story.”
Oliver pushed his chair back. “Yes, Mother,” he said and then went to allow his mother to place a kiss on his cheek. Then he turned to Philip. “Thank you for taking me fishing tomorrow, Mr. Butler.”
“I am honored,” Philip replied, and the boy bounded out of the room and up the stairs, the voice of the governess following after him that he should walk and not run.
“He is a fine young man,” Philip said as he went to pull the chair out for Caroline.
When she turned to look at him, their eyes met for a moment, and he turned away, using the need to push his chair back under the table as an excuse.
“I do not understand why you hide behind this hair,” she whispered as she pushed his hair away from his face. “It is much too handsome a face to be kept hidden. Why not bind it with a ribbon at the nape of your neck; it is what most men do these days. Then everyone will be able to see your face and you could maintain the length.”
Her nearness made breathing difficult, and he had to force air from his lungs to produce words to speak. “There is nothing I will not do for you,” he said. “Save one.” He pushed his long hair back over his shoulder. “Allow me to wear it like this, for it gives me comfort.”
She pulled back, hurt in her eyes. He had not meant to upset her, but somehow his request had done so.
“Might I ask why?” she said. Then she waved a hand in the air. “No, it is not for me to force you to explain. I do not wish to interfere.” She went to turn, but he reached and caught her arm.
“Like you,” he explained, “I carry much pain. However, unlike your pain, mine is of my own doing.”
She turned back to face him. “I understand,” she said in a soft voice filled with kindness. “I did not mean to pry. But thank you for sharing at least that small piece with me.” She raised herself onto her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Philip. Sleep well.”
And with that, she turned and walked away.
When she was gone, Philip released a frustrated sigh and walked over to the window that overlooked the garden. How he wanted to chase after her and assure himself she had not been hurt by his stubbornness. To hold her and perhaps even kiss her. However, he was not deserving of such attention; she deserved so much better.
For the last time he had loved a woman, she had died, and her blood had stained his hands. It was for the guilt of that moment that he kept his face covered. Yet, how did one explain such horrors to a woman such as Caroline Hayward?
Chapter Seven
As it so happened, Philip and Oliver convinced Caroline to join them on their fishing expedition, Oliver on the verge of begging and Philip…well, he simply asked. Caroline could not have declined if she had tried in either case.
“Here, allow me to help,” Philip said, offering his hand as her foot slipped on the wet grass.
Caroline stared at the hand for several moments, unsure whether taking his hand would be appropriate or not. However, what would have been worse, someone seeing the man aid her in climbing a steep hill or her falling flat on her backside? Therefore, she grabbed his hand, and he pulled her up to the top of the grassy hill.
They had decided to walk the short distance to a small dock that Reginald had built on the river that ran through the property. There, the water pooled, and according to Philip, they would have many fish from which to choose.
Oliver had been amazed at this. “Is that where they live, then?” he had asked, his eyes wide with innocence.
“Indeed,” Philip replied. “We should have great success in our hunt.”
“Hunt?” Oliver said with a
boisterous laugh. “We are not hunting! We are fishing! And won’t we be leaving the fish in the river rather than eating them?”
Philip raised his eyebrows. “Is that not why we go fishing?”
Oliver shook his head as if Philip was the one who did not know things. “Of course not. We’re there to catch them, but we can’t take them away from their families. They’d be sad. And wouldn't you be sad if you were playing along in the water and something caught you and ate you?”
Philip laughed. “I suppose I would at that.” Then he ruffled the boy’s hair.
Caroline had watched this interaction from behind them and had been mystified—and perhaps even a bit pleased—at how compatible the two were.
“There it is!” Oliver shouted. Indeed, the small wooden dock protruded out over the pooled water, a clear expanse that reflected the sky above. “I will go and see if I can find any fish!” Without waiting for a response, the boy was rushing down the hill toward the water.
Caroline went to shout at the boy lest he fall, but Philip let out a small chuckle.
“He will be fine,” the man said. “You must realize that boys are prone to falling and hurting themselves, but they always continue on despite these mishaps.”
She gave a sigh. “You are right, of course,” she said. “I worry too much over him these days, for I fear harm will come to him. He is all I have left.”
“No harm will come to him,” Philip replied.
Not understanding why, she believed what he said. It was as if his words possessed some sort of magical power, a source of enchantment in some way. But that was a ridiculous thought!
“You two go ahead,” she said with a sigh. “I will set up here.” The cook had prepared a basket as Caroline went in search of a large blanket they could spread upon the grass so they could have a place to eat. She had also added a book to the basket so she would have something to do whilst the men set about with their fishing.
The weather was perfect with just the slightest wisps of clouds in the sky and a warmness to the air. Springtime in Devin had to be the best time of the year as far as Caroline was concerned, for it held promises of days to come.
The Duke of Ravens Page 5
