The Forest Lord (25 page)

I
? I am sorry to say this, my lady, but if that man"—she pointed at Hartley—"does not leave
tonight,
I shall be forced to tender my notice."

Eden
looked from the governess to Hartley. "Is it true?" she asked. "Have you been taking Donal from the nursery at night?"

He nodded once, as if it were beneath his dignity to explain.

"You see!" said Miss Waterson. "This cannot be allowed to continue."

In that the governess was correct.

"You have said you will not remain at Hartsmere unless I discharge Mr. Shaw,"
Eden said bluntly.
"Very well, Miss Waterson.
We shall be sorry to see you leave us."

"Niece—" Claudia began. Miss Waterson stared at her, disbelieving… until the midges appeared to wreathe her face in a buzzing mist.

With a muffled squawk, the governess ran back to the house.

"How very strange,"
Eden said, "that insects have such a particular fondness for Lord Rushborough and Miss Waterson." She caught Hartley's smile out of the corner of her eye.

"Shaw," she said coolly, "your conduct—"

Donal ran out of the shadows and grabbed her hand. "Did you see me in the tree? I climbed almost all the way to the top!"

"I saw you, Donal." She steered him toward Claudia. "Aunt, will you please return Donal to the nursery? I have deserted my guests too long."

"This will not do, Niece," Claudia said. Her face was expressionless, but
Eden could feel her anger. "We discussed the need for a governess. You cannot simply dismiss Miss Waterson on a whim—" Her gaze cut Hartley like a scythe through hay. "
He
must
go
."

"We will discuss this further, Aunt, but not here. Please take Donal inside."

To her secret amazement, Claudia acquiesced without further argument and reached for Donal. "Come, child. It is time for bed."

Donal danced out of her grasp and wrapped himself around one of Hartley's long legs. "Hartley and I are going to the forest."

"You are going inside to sleep,"
Eden said.

He clung all the more firmly to Hartley. "He teaches me things," he said. "Not like the stick lady. Is she gone?"

Eden
almost laughed at his name for the governess. She bit down on her lip. "Would you be very glad if she was?"

He gave a decisive nod. Hartley rested his hand on Donal's head and met
Eden's gaze. He didn't have to say a word.

Claudia appeared ready to speak, but she, too, contained herself.

"Go inside, Donal," Hartley said. "It's all right."

"I will come to see you later, Donal,"
Eden added. She nodded to her aunt, who took Donal's hand and hurried him away. Claudia's posture hinted at the discord to come.

All because of Hartley.
Or was it?

"I will speak to
you
when my guests have left," she told him.

"I look forward to it." His eyes had the odd habit of glittering in the dark, as if they caught any stray bit of light. "I am proud of you, Eden."

His praise was like a caress over the length of her body, stroking the anger away. Bereft of words, she left him and went to rejoin the dalesmen who were preparing to depart.

The mood among the people was one of peaceful contentment, utterly unlike that with which the day had begun. The curse had lifted; the folk of the dale had begun to accept her.

She waved the last cart down the drive and watched it disappear into the darkness. Armstrong and the maids she dismissed to bed, assuring them that they could clean up in the morning. Hartley was nowhere to be seen. She had little fear that he had left Hartsmere; she wondered if anything could drive him away.

Or if she could bear the thought of his leaving.

In spite of the unpleasantness that lay ahead, the evening's triumph stayed with her for a few precious minutes as she walked back to the house and went upstairs to kiss Donal good night. Claudia stood to the side, waiting grimly for her to finish.

The door had scarcely closed on the nursery when Claudia began. "I have spoken to Miss Waterson, and she is willing to overlook what happened, on the condition that you dismiss Hartley Shaw immediately."

Eden
sighed. "I am afraid that is not very likely, Aunt."

"Do you actually mean that you prefer that man to Miss Waterson?" She followed
Eden down the stairs. "How is this possible? After all the trouble I took to obtain a governess of such high qualifications—"

"And such unpleasant habits,"
Eden interrupted. She softened her voice to take the sting from her words. "Truly, Aunt—you saw how she spoke, as if she were the employer rather than the employed. How could you approve? And she admitted to punishing Donal."

"All children require discipline," Claudia said. "And as for Miss Waterson's outspokenness, she addressed matters that required attention. I quite admire her for it."

"But you don't admire the same quality in me."

"Not when it comes as a stubborn refusal to accept what must be!"

Eden
stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "I cannot accept that her way of raising a child is what must be, Aunt. I have never been conventional; you used to encourage that in me. Why should a son not be like his mother?"

"But he is
not
like—" Claudia pressed her lips together. "
Eden, I do not wish to quarrel."

"Nor do
I
, Aunt.
Especially not with you."

"Then hear me out." She folded her hands and became the wise, dispassionate mentor
Eden had always known. "I concede that it is your decision whether or not to retain Miss Waterson. But I have only tried to help you, Eden. I have observed how you've worked yourself to the bone, and it hurts me to see you so."

"But it is what I wish to do. I am not unhappy—"

"So you have convinced yourself. But you were never meant to be alone." She touched
Eden's chin. "That is why I asked the marquess to come to the Lakes."

"You asked—?"

"Yes."

Eden
laughed to cover her vexation. "Shall I trap him in my toils and scheme to win a proposal, even while I wear widow's weeds?"

"You need do no scheming, dear Niece. Lord Rushborough requires only the smallest encouragement to fall at your feet. He still desires you above all other women. He has told me so himself."

Eden
took a step back. "I appreciate your concern, Aunt. But I prefer not to be pushed."

"Promise me that you will seriously consider Rushborough's suit when he makes his offer."

"I shall… think about it."

"That is all I ask." Claudia took her hand. "You know I wish the best for you, always. And that is why I urge you to discharge Hartley Shaw. It can come to no good."

"I will concede that he is overly presumptuous, but—"

"I do not refer to his manners. This Hartley Shaw has some power over you, Eden. There is no other explanation for your attachment to a man so much inferior to you in rank and in every other quality."

The urge to defend Hartley rose in
Eden even as she choked on a denial. "You are quite wrong,"
Eden said, as if the matter were of no consequence. "Hartley Shaw is nothing to me. I keep him on because Donal is fond of him, and he is good at his work."

Claudia sighed and shook her head. "I fear for you, Eden."

"You fear for me in the company of a man?
Any man?"
She laughed. "Please do not distress yourself."

"I will not, if you agree to stay away from Shaw."

"You have already demanded one promise of me this evening. But of course that is the real reason why you sent for the marquess, is it not?
To divert my attention from my supposed peasant lover?"

"Do hot speak so where the servants might hear."

"But they already know, don't they? Have they not reported to you?"

"You have misplaced your judgment, my girl," Claudia said sharply. "And as long as you are so lost to sense, I must think for you."

As she had done for so much of
Eden's life.
But not this time.
"I will not turn the marquess away from Hartsmere, but I shan't allow anyone—not even you—to tell me with whom I may keep company. Good night, Aunt."

Driven by a fury stronger than any she could remember,
Eden sought the freedom of the night. It seemed that everyone was intent upon manipulating her, pushing
her this
way and that: Claudia, the marquess, Miss Waterson… and Hartley Shaw.
Perhaps him most of all.

The marquess was waiting for her just outside the door. She came to a halt and gathered her composure. "Lord Rushborough. I thought you… had gone for the evening."

"Without saying a proper good night?"
He seized her hand and kissed it. "I have missed you, Eden.
Missed you terribly."

"Lord Rushborough—"

"Francis. Have we not known each other too well for formalities?" He trapped her hands between his. "Forgive my boldness. I know you are still in mourning—but I also know how little affection you held toward your husband. It is right and proper that you should observe the mourning period, but after…" He pulled her close. "We were happy together. You know that as well as I."

Eden
did not answer. She ought to be feeling flattered and exhilarated that Lord Rushborough—Francis—had traveled the long distance to Westmorland to court her, in spite of her impoverished state and hasty departure from London. She still liked him, even felt affection for him. Her body remembered the attraction they had shared ever since their introduction by Aunt Claudia at Lady Morland's musicale.

But it was no longer there. She felt strangely numb, as if she had been swimming in icy water.

"Lord… Francis… I am deeply grateful that you came to Hartsmere—"

"Grateful?" He chuckled. "My dear, when your aunt told me of the conditions here in the country and what you were forced to endure, nothing could have kept me away. Now that I see this place, I understand her concern. But once you are in
London, where you belong—but I am too hasty. Forgive me. My rashness is merely the result of seeing you again."

Eden
managed a smile. "And I am flattered and honored. But—" She lowered her eyes. "My husband has been gone only six months. I have just begun to win the trust of the people here. There have been so many changes—"

He released her.
"Of course.
Now that I have taken the house at Caldwick, I will be able to come to you whenever you need me."

"But the Season—"

"Can wait.
The world can wait for you, Eden."

But it cannot. It cannot
.
"Oh, Francis.
You were always such a good friend."

"And I hope to be so much more to you, my dear." Without warning, he took her arms and kissed her. It was not a deep kiss, but the passion in it was plain.

And utterly absent on
Eden's part.
Even Francis felt her constraint. He drew back with a puzzled frown and then dipped his head for another attempt.

"No."
Eden blocked his lips with her hand and pulled away. "No, Francis."

He studied her face. "What is it,
Eden?"

"I… I am in mourning, Francis. It is not proper—"

"Proper?" he laughed. "When did propriety ever encumber Lady Eden Winstowe? No…" His eyes narrowed. "You have changed."

"Perhaps I have."

"Has it something to do with that ill-mannered servant, Shaw?"

Eden
's face grew hot. "How can you speak so?"

"I observed the way he looked at you—and you at him. I simply did not wish to believe it." He took her by the arms again and gave her a light shake. "Is it true,
Eden? Can even you have sunk so low—
"

She came within an inch of slapping him. Her sudden, aborted movement shocked them both.

"Lord Rushborough," she said, "as happy as I am to see you, I cannot permit you, or anyone else, to presume to dictate my life!" She turned and fled, forgetting to pick up her skirts and barely avoiding a humiliating fall.

Rushborough didn't follow. By the time she had reached the great oak that Donal had climbed but an hour past, she was out of breath and cursing herself for the worst kind of fool.