Chapter Thirteen
Jenny returned tothe house cradling a large bunch of yellow irises the gardener had kindly cut for her. She greeted Jeremy at the schoolroom door and entered to find the children sitting at the table with Mary. William his head lowered over his book, was busy drawing, while Barbara and the cat played with a ball of wool Nanny had left behind.
As Jenny put the flowers in water, their luncheon arrived. A lamb pie, vegetables in season, bread and jam, and tea for her, a treacle pudding, and milk for the children. She ate the tasty food with good appetite, while Barbara told them one of her rambling stories about a barn owl they’d seen on their walk the previous week who had lost his hat. William laughed and asked what kind of hat it was and where did he lose it. This led to a lengthy discussion peppered with his sister’s giggles.
Despite the distressing incidents of the last couple of days, William appeared in good spirits, having convinced himself that Carrot escaped by accident and there was nothing in the corridor except shadows on the wall.
After luncheon, a footman took Barbara for her dance class while William had violin instruction in the music room. It left Jenny free to plan further lessons. A book open before her and her pen poised over her notes, she stared out the window at the gray-blue expanse of sky dotted with small dark clouds like smoke from a giant’s pipe. It had been an extraordinary few days. Especially this morning.
She rubbed her arms recalling the horrid cobwebbed staircase, the sour air, and His Grace, agile for a big man, his long legs carrying him speedily down, as if to tackle the culprit at the bottom. The lantern light gleamed on his thick dark hair. Then the discovery of the barricade ripped from the door and cast aside. His blue eyes filled with rage.
The children were to have a guard accompanying them everywhere they went. Although relieved, she couldn’t help sighing. Would the peaceful existence they’d once enjoyed ever return? She shivered at the thought that he might easily have carried out his wicked plan in the nursery while they slept.
Jenny considered each incident in turn: first the gunshot, then the fire, and Carrot’s miraculous escape through the closed nursery door. Each of them could have been intended to appear like an accident. Who would benefit by William’s death? She started. Mary had told her that the duke’s cousin, Mr. Forsythe, was next in line to inherit the dukedom after William. Would the duke suspect his own flesh and blood? She rubbed her arms, suddenly chilled. It would be wise to keep the children from being alone with him.
At three o’clock, she took the children to the salon where they were to take tea with their father. Baroness Elsenberg and Herr Von Bremen were seated with the duke when she ushered the children inside.
“Thank you, Miss Harrismith,” His Grace said, as she settled the children on the pale gold damask sofa. “They’ll be returned to the schoolroom at half past four.”
The baroness gave Jenny another of her hard stares, and Von Bremen offered his brazen smile. Jenny curtsied and left the room.
With the need for fresh air and exercise, the notion of a bird’s eye view of the duke’s estate appealed to her. Jenny set out along the path toward the distant hill the German had claimed to have climbed. She had conquered her irrational fears about being alone in the woods, aided by the knowledge that she’d left the unsettling Von Bremen in the salon.
It took her close to half an hour before she left the dense woodland and emerged into the fragile autumn sun. She kept the hill in view as she walked along a fence and crossed a style onto a wide pasture where a cluster of black-faced sheep cropped the grass. A small hut was nestled beside a chestnut tree. She gazed through a window, finding it empty. Most likely used for feed, and shelter in bad weather.
Jenny continued at a brisk pace until she came to the foot of the hill which towered above her. A rocky ridge half way up seemed the farthest one could climb, the rock face above it so steep even an experienced climber would find it difficult to scale without the proper equipment. She recalled the composed, elegantly dressed man who met her on the woodland path. Von Bremen hardly looked like he’d just indulged in a dangerous climb up a rocky escarpment. When they almost bumped into each other, and he sought to steady her, he carried no rope or pick with him. Might there be an easier way to climb the hill from the far side? It looked to be a long way around, and difficult to get to, with no obvious path through the brambles.
She consulted her watch. She would run out of time if she didn’t start back, and would be late for the children.
*
Andrew had forcedhimself to face his own shortcomings by the time he entered the salon. He smiled and came to take Greta’s hand. Whatever doubts he now had about her as a possible wife, he admitted he’d been neglectful of her, and hardly the swain she’d come to expect, which prompted her outburst. He still held out a hope that on further acquaintance she might grow more comfortable with his children on further acquaintance. He’d thought at first they made her nervous, but now the suspicion arose that she was not particularly interested in them. But perhaps in time she would come to know and love them, especially if she had a babe of her own.
In their short time together, he and Catherine had produced two wonderful children. Catherine’s constitution remained delicate after a childhood rheumatic illness, and the doctors warned her against childbirth, but she had been adamant. To Catherine, life without children wasn’t worth living. After a long, troubled labor she gave birth to William, and they were so thrilled to have a healthy boy that when she’d begged for another, Andrew finally agreed. And then he had lost her.
After the children had joined them for tea, the atmosphere in the salon became less strained, mainly because, surprisingly, Ivo got on well with them. His artful mocking pose dropped away, and he conversed on their level, laughing at some silly nonsense with Barbara, and engaging with William in quite a knowledgeable discussion concerning Archduke Karl von Hapsburg who had established a stud farm for breeding his own Spanish horses near Lipizza in Italy. He promised to tell William more.
Andrew watched his son’s animated face as he listened intently, interrupting occasionally to ask Ivo questions. It hadn’t occurred to him until recently that he would want more children. Now faced with the possibility, he discovered he’d like at least two or three more. He broached the delicate subject with Greta in an undertone while the children were in conversation with Ivo.
“I have no desire to become a milch cow, Your Grace,” she murmured, looking horrified.
Ivo turned from where he talked to William and coughed.
Greta glared at her brother. “A baby would be most pleasant,” she said smiling at Andrew. “A good nursery staff allows one to continue life as before. But I have no intention of becoming one of those women who give birth to a dozen. What would that do to my figure? Husbands are often unreasonable. They wish for babies to fill their nursery, but do not want their wives to get fat. Or else they seek a woman’s attention elsewhere. Fortunately, the baron had grown-up children and did not wish for more.” Aware perhaps that her comments had fallen flat, she shrugged. “And giving birth can be dangerous.”
Andrew smiled and nodded while he tried to deal with what he considered to be the final blow to their relationship. “It is a sad fact and happens far too often, Greta.” He rose. “You will wish to change for dinner.”
He held out his hand. “Come children.”
“Your Grace!” Greta hurried after him to the door. “Might we have a quiet word?” She glanced back at Ivo who was scowling at her. “Alone?” Her blue eyes implored him. “We have hardly had a moment since I came here.”
Before he could agree, a knock came at the door.
“There is someone to see you, Your Grace,” Forrester said at his austere best. “I’ve put the, ah, gentleman in the anteroom.”
“His name?”
“Irvine. Says the Marquess of Strathairn sent him.”
