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She’d taken the child home with her. Astounded, Alexander read the letter again to be sure he hadn’t been mistaken. What young woman of gentle breeding did something like that? And what had her parents to say on the matter? He rose to his feet and moved to stand at the window. The sun was lowering in the sky, but across the field and just above the rise beyond, he could make out the red-brick chimneys of Charwell Park.

Although the Hadfords’ land butted up against his own, he had not been to the house more than once or twice. The older Mr. Hadford had been widowed for at least ten years and had lived a very quiet life long before his declining health had made him a virtual recluse. With no children in the home, there had been little incentive for Alexander to visit while in his youth. Tomorrow, however, he would go. As soon as the hour was socially acceptable, he would ride there. He would deliver Miss Brown’s message—that she had always planned to return for her son—to the boy. And he would see Miss Hadford.

Wispy spirals of smoke rose from the tops of several of the Charwell Park chimneys, offering further proof that a new family was in residence. Alexander ran his fingers through his hair. The thought of arriving at the house unannounced should not make him nervous. He was an earl, after all, and he was not without basic social skills. But this particular visit promised to be particularly unsettling, and he had yet to determine whether that was because of the unusual circumstances or the unusual young lady awaiting him there.

Jane sat on the bench beneath the apple tree, a small smile playing across her lips as she watched Asher’s attempts at building a house for the ladybird he’d found. Using a short stick, he had dug out a shallow hollow at the base of the apple tree and had surrounded it with a circle of small rocks. He was now creating a roof out of twigs and dandelion leaves.

“Do you think my ladybiwd will like her new house, Miss Hadford?” Asher paused his tuneless humming to ask.

“Absolutely,” Jane said. “It is quite the nicest ladybird house I’ve ever seen.”

He beamed. “It took an awfully long time to make.”

“Indeed it did.” She pointed to the tiny black-and-red insect scuttling off in the opposite direction. “But I think your ladybird may be a little confused. Perhaps she doesn’t realize that the house is for her.”

Asher scrambled to his feet and caught the escaping insect in his cupped hands. “It’s this way, silly ladybiwd.” He crouched down before his creation and dropped the ladybird through a gap in the twigs. “You can stay in there. It will keep you safe when it wains.” Leaning back on his heels, he waited, watching the rickety structure. “I think she likes it. She hasn’t come out yet.”

Jane smiled. It warmed her heart to see how far Asher had come in only a few short days. When she and Phoebe had gone upstairs the day she’d brought him home, he’d been newly bathed and wearing an ill-fitting pair of breeches and a shirt that Aunt Millward had borrowed from the gardener’s son. His large brown eyes had been fearful, and he’d barely spoken a word to anyone. Now, handsomely dressed in the clothing Jane had ordered from the village seamstress, he was becoming comfortable in his new surroundings and with his caretakers.

She was coming to know his moods. He chattered incessantly with her or with Alice when he was happy. He hummed when he was creating something—be it a charcoal drawing in the nursery or a ladybird house in the orchard—and he was silent when he was anxious or unhappy. He still tended to hide behind Jane’s skirts if her parents or Phoebe were near, but there was a small part of her—the selfish part, no doubt—that enjoyed being thus singled out. Secretly, she was rather glad he still favored her above anyone else in the household.

Movement near the gap in the privet hedge caught her attention, and she turned to see Albert walk through.

“Good morning, miss.” He bowed politely and handed her a small card. “Lord Bloxley is at the house and is requesting an audience with you.”

“Lord Bloxley.” Although she had been expecting this call, she was not prepared for the nervous fluttering in her stomach that accompanied the news that he was actually here.

Jane glanced at the name printed on the card and then at the little boy. Asher had waited three long hours after his breakfast in the nursery for this outing. It seemed most unfair to curtail his activity only to require him to stand on ceremony in the drawing room.

“Would you ask him to join Asher and me in the orchard?” she said. Perhaps it was not exactly how one should respond to an earl’s request, but Jane was of the opinion that her mother would likely be more concerned over the breach of etiquette than would Lord Bloxley.

“Yes, miss.” Albert bowed again and disappeared through the hedge as quietly as he had come.

Jane took a steadying breath. He is here for Asher, she reminded herself. The three-year-old was digging with his stick again, and if his humming was any indication, a new domicile was being created next to Miss Ladybird’s. She considered warning him of the impending introduction but quickly decided against it. It would be better for Lord Bloxley to first see the child at ease. There would undoubtedly be sufficient awkwardness afterward.

Chapter 16

Alexander followed the Hadford’s footman down the gravel path that cut across Charwell Park’s back lawn. Rose bushes surrounded a small fountain to his right. They were in full leaf but had yet to bloom. The flowerbeds to his left, however, were already awash with colors. He did not recognize more than a couple blooms, but it was enough to know that the gardeners had done their job well.

A thick privet hedge bordered the garden, and as he drew closer to the end of the lawn, he noticed an arched opening amid the greenery. It was the entrance to the orchard, no doubt. He stifled a smile. Receiving an earl in an orchard was certainly not the norm. Then again, he was beginning to expect the unusual when it came to Miss Hadford. The drawing room would have been far too ordinary.

The footman walked through the gap in the hedge and then stopped. “Lord Bloxley to see you, miss.”

Alexander stepped forward. The footman gave him a deferential nod and slipped away.

Miss Hadford was sitting on a bench beneath an apple tree. Her cream gown was the same hue as the thousands of apple blossoms above her head, but as she came to her feet to greet him, it was her warm, brown eyes that arrested his gaze. She smiled at him. It was a hesitant smile, so natural and so honest it put him at ease immediately.

“Good morning, Lord Bloxley.”

He inclined his head. “And to you, Miss Hadford.”

At her left, a small child rose to his feet and moved to stand beside her, but before Alexander could get a good look at him, the child ducked his head behind Miss Hadford’s gown and pressed himself firmly against her leg.

With one hand on her cane to steady her, Miss Hadford moved the other to gently stroke the little boy’s head. “Asher,” she said softly. “This is Lord Bloxley.” The child peeked one eye out from behind the gown’s fabric, but his hands remained firmly attached to it. “I would like you to step forward and meet him. He is my friend.”

Alexander recognized the unspoken apology in her eyes, but rather than feel affronted at her claiming a position of such familiarity with him, he was awed. Her obvious compassion for the orphaned child of a flower lady amazed him. Never would his own mother have treated him with such tenderness. And if he had ever burrowed his way into her skirts—particularly with dirty hands—he would have been sent packing to the nursery with a scolding. His mother was a good woman, but she did not readily show affection. It struck him then that this was his chance to behave differently, to follow Miss Hadford’s example rather than the one he’d been offered in his youth.

Lowering himself into a crouched position so that he was much closer in height to the little boy, Alexander smiled. “Good morning, Asher. I am very pleased to meet you.”