“No,” her son said. “I want Mr. Ludlow to train me as well so I can defend you. I must act in Papa’s stead now that he is gone.”
Her heart gave a pang at the sincerity in his boyish voice. Guilt hit her anew at the deceptions she had perpetrated. Edward had lost the only father he had ever known, and Freddie had undeniably been a wonderful, doting papa. But here before her son stood the father who had sired him, neither knowing their true relationship to the other. No one had ever known the truth except for Ara and Freddie. Even Percy, for all that he knew Freddie was not Edward’s father, had no inkling of the true identity of the man responsible.
She could confess everything now. Here. Perhaps she should.
But the words would not form on her tongue. No, she could not be yet another earthquake in her son’s already fragile world. He needed stability and reassurance now. He needed solidity and love, and the last thing he needed was to be informed that the man he had loved as his father for his entire life had not, in fact, shared his bloodline.
“You are a brave lad.” Clay was telling Edward, clapping two enormous hands on his thin shoulders. “I will teach you everything I know. How does that sound?”
“You will?” Edward beamed.
Clayton Ludlow spending a prolonged amount of time with Edward could not be productive in any fashion. Ever. Clay was far too wily and intelligent, and Edward was not far behind, though he was a boy. He had a knack for observing those around him and listening. Sometimes she forgot just how much he saw and heard.
“No, he most certainly will not,” Ara interrupted, her tone a trifle more stinging than she had intended. But there was no help for it. Her territory was being invaded more by the day, and she did not like it. She needed to take a stand, as much for her own sanity as for Edward’s wellbeing. She pinned Clay with a glare. “My son will not be engaging in fisticuffs at your direction, sir. He has no need of such worries. I am safe here at Burghly House under your protection.Heis safe here. Is that not right?”
Clay threw a look at her over his shoulder, his dark eyes assessing. “Would you not rather he be prepared, Your Grace? Your safety and the lad’s safety are hardly trifling matters, after all.”
“Yes, Mama,” Edward added. “I need to be certain I can protect you. Papa would want that. Mr. Ludlow will show me all I need to know.”
Ara’s gaze flicked from Clay to their son.Dear heavens.The similarities between them were more apparent than ever. Devastatingly so. Her heart clenched painfully. “How do you even know of such matters, Edward?” she demanded.
“The servants speak when they think I am not listening,” he told her without preamble and without a hint of remorse. “I understand more than you think me capable of, Mama. I am nearly a man fully grown.”
“In good time, Your Grace.” Clay gave Edward’s hair a playful ruffle, and Ara’s heart broke then and there. “You have a deal of growing yet before you become a man, I should say. Though you are well on the way, and I am sure your mother could not ask for a better son.”
Clay was so tender. So gentle. So very good with Edward, who had always been awkward and quiet. “No, I could not ask for a better son,” she agreed past the lump in her throat. Past the guilt and the fear threatening to crush her. Fear Clay would look into the face of his son and see himself. Fear all her carefully crafted lies would one day fall down around her like so much dust. “But that does not mean I wish for him to engage in violence in my name, Mr. Ludlow.”
“I want Mr. Ludlow to teach me,” Edward insisted, his stubborn streak making an appearance. “I do not want to lose you, Mama, for you are all I have left in this world.”
Oh, my darling boy. If you only knew.
“Come here, my love.” She sank to her knees alongside Clay, doing her utmost to ignore his big, burly presence, and opened her arms to their son. Edward launched himself into her in that unselfconscious manner that only children possess. She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his mop of unruly dark hair. “You will never lose me, Edward. Do you understand? No matter where we are in the world or how much time has passed, I shall always be in your heart.”
Aware of Clay’s gaze on her, she glanced up to find him watching her, intent.
“I want to learn, Mama,” Edward said into her bodice, hugging her tight with his skinny arms.
Clay raised a brow, as if daring her to defy him, and how she wished she could read the emotions glittering in the dark depths of his eyes. “I will teach you, lad.”
Chapter Ten
Eight years earlier
He had notcome to court her.
She had waited. And waited. Then, she had waited some more.
A week had passed since she had last seen Clay. Since he had given her his promise. And he had not come to call at Kingswood Hall. Not on Monday or on Tuesday. Not Wednesday when the sky had been lit with a brilliant sun. Nor Thursday when a thunderstorm ripped through the countryside. Friday and Saturday had passed, leaving her with Sunday and no choice but to find him.
Each day with the exception of the day of the deluge, she had found an opportunity to slip away to their meeting place in the forest. Each day, she had been as disappointed as the last.
Mama had gone to pay a visit to her sister, leaving Ara unattended for the afternoon and evening. Perhaps even through the night if she grew fortunate and Mama decided to say on with Auntie Charity as she often did. Ara had seized her chance, knowing it may well be her last.
And now, here she stood, before the massive hewn doors of Brixton Manor, the country seat of the Duke of Carlisle. She had slipped away from her chamber without notice, saddling up her favorite mare and making the journey on her own. Her mare was tethered to a tree in the sprawling woodland that abutted the park, and she had walked for some distance on damp ground, much to the peril of her boots and hem.
Her hand shook as she knocked, tentatively at first. She was not even certain this was where Clay resided. It was entirely possible he was kept far from the main house because of his status. It was definite that her presence here, unchaperoned, unannounced, and uninvited, would raise brows and cause a stir. She was in danger of doing her reputation irreparable harm.
But he was worth it.
