Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 01] (25 page)

Saybrook bowed. "I thank Your Grace, but I do not wish to impose any further. You see, my ward is accompanying me."

"How old is your ward?"

"Eight years old."

"Rather odd," remarked the duke.

"Peter has been taking Miss Langley's departure hard. He is quite attached to her. Given the circumstances, it would have been rather heartless to abandon him. Until recently I have spent little time at my estate, and he feared I was leaving him, too."

Again Avanlea was struck by Saybrook's sentiments. They were hardly those of a libertine or jaded buck.

"The nursery here is quite cheerful, and one of my kitchen maids is quite used to helping out with my niece's brood when they visit. She would be quite happy to see to your ward's needs."

Saybrook took a deep breath. His side was beginning to ache something fierce, and for a moment he felt a wave of dizziness.

"Are you alright, sir?" The duke rose in concern.

Saybrook held up his hand. "It is nothing. A recent accident has left me a trifle weak at times."

"In that case, I won't hear of your leaving," broke in the duke as he rang for his butler.

Saybrook steadied himself with the back of a chair. "Thank you, sir. Perhaps it would be best if I take advantage of your generous offer."

The duke gave the necessary instructions to Grimsley, then turned back to Saybrook. "I hope you do not mind that we keep country hours here at Avanlea. Please join us at six in the drawing room for a glass of sherry before we go in to dine."

Saybrook bowed and followed the butler from the room.

The duke seated himself once more and stared at the closed door, his hands steepled before him on the massive desk. He considered himself a shrewd judge of character and there was much that impressed—and intrigued—him about the Marquess of Saybrook. Here he sensed a will as strong as his own! He pursed his lips thoughtfully. It should be an interesting evening.

* * *

A short nap had erased the fatigue of the journey, and a hot bath had left him feeling much refreshed. As Saybrook shrugged into his evening coat, he found himself looking forward to the evening. Normally he preferred his solitude, but the chance to meet a dear friend of Jane's had excited his curiosity. And though he hadn't known what to expect, he found himself rather liking the gruff old gentleman. Saybrook smiled to himself. The duke's concern for Jane was most evident, and he supposed that was what disposed him in Avanlea's favor.

He paused as he began to tie his cravat. The duke had been quick with his hospitality. He had a daughter who, if of age with Jane, had been out for a Season and was still unmarried. A horrible thought crossed his mind. He began to envision a squat, squint-eyed young lady—yes, it would be just like Jane to adopt someone like that! The duke couldn't be thinking of.... Suddenly he relaxed and laughed at his own fears. With her rank and dowry, the duke's daughter could be a veritable harridan and she would not lack for offers. Breathing a sigh of relief, he straightened the folds of his neckcloth and rang for a footman.

It should be an interesting evening.

After looking in on Peter and finding him comfortably settled, Saybrook presented himself at the drawing room door precisely at six. The duke greeted him and as they exchanged pleasantries, Saybrook noted that the two young people were at the far end of the room by the fireplace, deeply engrossed in their own conversation.

They had not seen his entrance for their backs were to him. For a moment, he had a chance to study their appearances. The young man was nearly as tall as he was, slim but solid, with well-muscled legs that his expertly tailored clothes showed off to perfection. Weston, no doubt. And no doubt that the heir to Avanlea could cut quite a swath in Town if he chose.

But it was the lady who caught his attention. He nearly laughed aloud thinking of the mental image he formed beforehand. It couldn't have been further from the truth! She was tall and elegantly slender. Masses of honey-colored hair were dressed in a most becoming style, with just a few loose tendril drifting down a long and graceful neck. The color of her gown brought out the rich gold of her hair, while the expert cut flattered an already lovely figure. Saybrook felt an involuntary surge of admiration. She was a Diamond of the First Water, for he had no doubt that picture would be no less lovely when she turned around. What a ninnyhammer he had been! Yet it was strange, there was an odd familiarity about her...

The duke took his arm and moved towards the fire. "Come now, you two. Don't put me to the blush with your manners. Our guest has arrived. Sir," he said to Saybrook, "May I present my son Thomas, Viscount Roxbury."

The young man turned. His face was handsome, with eyes as blue as his father's, and he smiled politely as he sketched a quick bow. Saybrook felt a slight shock as he realized that the young man so resembled Jane that they could have been twins, except for the blond hair. Now it was easy to guess at why the duke had a fatherly regard for Miss Langley—clearly his interest in his tenants had gone beyond sowing merely wheat.

"And may I present my daughter."

Saybrook's mouth dropped in astonishment as the young lady turned to face him.

"I believe you are acquainted with Jane," continued the duke blandly. "However I fear you are confused as to her last name. It is Stanhope, not Langley."

She looked exactly as she had in his dreams, when he had imagined her dressed in expensive silks and fitted gowns rather than her own drab, ill-fitting garments. Instead of a high buttoned neck reaching nearly to her chin, her dress of moss green figured silk exposed a pair of creamy shoulders and enough bosom to take his breath away. The high waist only heightened the awareness of the rounded curves above it while showing off the slim waist and womanly shape beneath it. With the walnut stain gone, her hair resembled nothing like the mousy color it had been at Highwood but shone like burnished gold. Her skin had a milky luminance matched by the simple strand of pearls at her throat.

He stood in stunned silence, his mouth dry, his body rigid.

Jane appeared just as surprised. Her eyes widened in shock and her polite smile changed to a look of disbelief. "You! How did you—" she blurted out before she recovered enough to stammer "How do you do, sir."

Saybrook, barely conscious enough to bow over her extended hand, was saved from having to reply by the entrance of the butler.

"Dinner is served, Your Grace."

The meal was a strained affair. Both Saybrook and Jane answered any direct question put to them in stilted tones but otherwise remained silent. Thomas shot both of them quizzical glances while keeping up a running conversation with his father. The duke jovially discussed the merits of some newly acquired horses, seemingly oblivious to the tension around him. However, despite his feigned nonchalance, he kept a sharp eye on his daughter and their guest. The spark between the two of them was evident during the few times their eyes accidentally met.

"Is your ward comfortably settled in the nursery?" inquired the duke.

"Yes, thank you."

Jane looked up from her plate. "Is Peter here?" she exclaimed.

Saybrook didn't look at her. "Yes."

"Oh, how is he? How is his arm?"

"His arm has mended nicely." Saybrook paused. "He misses you terribly," he added in a low voice.

"Oh." She fought to keep the tears out of her eyes. "As do I," she finished softly.

There was an awkward silence until Thomas finally spoke. "May I ask what is going on here?"

When neither of them answered, the duke cleared his throat. "It appears that Jane has spent the last number of months as governess to Lord Saybrook's ward."

"Good Lord," breathed Thomas, looking at his sister in astonishment.

"Representing herself as Jane Langley, a farmer's daughter, I might add." He looked reprovingly at his daughter. "Most unfair of you, missy. Do you realize what a potentially disastrous position you placed the marquess in?"

She looked at him, startled.

"Why," continued her father, "if the merest whisper had gotten out, His Lordship, as a gentleman, would have been forced to offer for you, regardless of his feelings in the matter."

"I... I hadn't thought of that."

"Not to speak of your own reputation!" Avanlea turned to Saybrook, who had turned a shade paler at the duke's words. "I beg your forgiveness for my daughter's actions. I trust you will agree with me that it is best that this matter go no farther than this table."

"Of course. You have my word," said Saybrook.

The duke nodded. "And you mine," he added pointedly.

Thomas in the meantime had recovered from his initial shock. "A governess," he chuckled, ignoring the pleading look from his sister. "Willful, stubborn, impatient, opinionated—I can hardly credit that my dear sister wasn't more trouble than her charge! You don't mean to tell me that she actually obeyed orders without a scene?"

The duke noticed that for the first time a smile, a very faint one, came to the marquess's lips. "Well," he replied softly, "if you discount the time she threatened to take a horsewhip to me..."

"She didn't!"

Jane's face was nearly crimson as Saybrook nodded in assent. "Indeed she did."

"Good Lord! And you didn't turn her out immediately?" Thomas looked at him in puzzlement. "Why?"

"She was right. I had behaved abominably towards a child, my ward. I do not turn out my people for speaking the truth—though I did request that she express her future opinions of my conduct in a more moderate fashion." There was a slight pause. "And she was an excellent governess—kind, generous, patient and understanding."

"But what of the times she wasn't right? I know my sister well enough to know she isn't always right."

"Most of the time we were able to work things out in a rational manner."

"Most?" persisted Thomas, a mischievous grin on his face. "What of the others?"

Saybrook considered the question for a moment. "I believe I only had to spank her once."

Thomas let out a shout of laughter and shook his head in admiration. "By Jove, I'd have paid any amount of blunt to see that! Come, Jane, what was your reaction?"

Jane's face was even redder.

"I believe Lady Jane would not care to repeat her reaction," answered Saybrook dryly. "The words would not have lead one to believe she was a Lady of Quality."

Thomas's grin grew wider. "I'm afraid I'm well acquainted with my sister's vocabulary."

Jane lifted her chin. "I should hope I am as fair minded as Lord Saybrook. I acknowledge that in that case he was right—though I, too, asked that he vent his feelings in a more appropriate manner."

"At the time, it was the most appropriate manner," muttered Saybrook, much to Thomas's amusement.

The duke decided it was time to change the subject. "I hope, Saybrook, we shall have the pleasure of your company for an extended visit. I look forward to meeting the young lad who has occupied so much of my daughter's attention for the past months."

Saybrook shook his head. "I think not. It would be best if we leave in the morning now that there is no need to see to my former governess's welfare."

"Surely not!" interrupted the duke. "I'm certain it would do your injury no good to travel again so soon, and I can see that my daughter would be bitterly disappointed in not being able to spend some time with the boy."

Saybrook began to speak.

"Besides," added Avanlea. "We have a ball planned for my niece and are in need of all the gentlemen we can muster. I would take it as a great favor if you would at least stay until then."

"I..."

"Please, sir." Jane's voice was nearly inaudible.

The turmoil was evident on Saybrook's face. "I..."

"Good!" boomed the duke. "It's settled, then."

Saybrook's lips compressed into a tight smile. "You are most persuasive, Your Grace."

The duke returned the smile. "No, I simply refuse to take no for an answer. Prerogative of rank."

At that moment, the footmen came in to clear the table. As they left, Jane rose too. "If you will excuse me, I shall leave you gentlemen to your port. I think I will retire early tonight. I feel a bit of a headache coming on."

"Headache," remarked Thomas as he stared at her retreating figure. "Why, she's never had..." A quelling look from his father silenced any further words.

"I pray you will also excuse me." Saybrook stood up. "It has been a fatiguing day."

The duke rang for a candle. "Good night to you, sir. Let Grimshaw know if you are in need of anything."

Saybrook made a bow, an inscrutable look on his face. "I believe you have thought of everything, Your Grace." With that, he followed the footman to the door.

Walking to the sideboard, the duke poured himself a large port and held it eye level, a smile on his face as he regarded its rich, ruby color.

"What on earth are you grinning like a Bedlamite for?" demanded his son.

"Oh, I think you shall see soon enough," he took a sip from his glass. "But I wouldn't be young again for all the tea in China."