The Forest Lord (28 page)

Man and boy were locked in conversation. Donal was uncommonly silent much of the time, but with Shaw he became animated—another mark of his unnatural birth. The boy would rather be among the dogs and horses and sheep, and those of lowly birth, than with people of refinement.

Why would
Eden not recognize what he was? How could she bear to have him near when she had so despised his father? It was a puzzle that haunted Claudia nightly.

Another puzzle was Shaw's daily excursions into the forest. Now that Miss Waterson was gone, he no longer stole the boy from the nursery at night. They went openly during the day, and
Eden did nothing to stop it.

The pair
were
headed for the forest now, marching at a fast clip up the fellside. Claudia hesitated. She had reason to hate the place above all others at Hartsmere. But if what she feared lingered there, it had not shown its face.

Gathering her skirts, she waited until Shaw and Donal had reached the edge of the forest and disappeared among the trees. She followed slowly, picking her way around the natural rock wall and avoiding the beck and its miniature force.

Like everything else in the dale, the forest was well progressed in its spring growth. Most of the trees were in leaf and many were flowering. Skylarks, thrushes, and warblers rivaled each other in song. Unpleasant little rodents rustled under Claudia's feet. She swallowed her distaste and continued to the border of the wood.

Ordinary human voices and footsteps were lost in such a place. Claudia wove a path among the trees and the undergrowth of bilberry, wood rush, and holly, listening. Vigilance rewarded her; she found man and boy before she came too close to be heard herself. She hid behind a stately ash to watch.

They knelt upon the earth, studying the ground intently. Claudia saw nothing to account for their interest. Shaw glanced up at the boy, smiled, and passed his hand over the bare patch of dirt in a circular motion, like a conjurer plying his tricks. Donal pressed his nose almost level with the ground.

The patch of dirt heaved as if a hill of ants had been disturbed. But no insects appeared. Instead, a tiny speck of green emerged from the center. It grew larger, and then burst forth to become a stalk with new furled leaves.

Within a minute, it had grown into a seedling—an infant oak to match its fellow monarchs of the forest.

Claudia bit hard on her lip to keep from crying aloud.

"Now you try," Shaw said. He took the boy's hand, uncurled his fingers, and guided it palm down over a similar bare patch of earth.

Nothing happened. Donal's face screwed up in concentration.

"You are trying too hard," Shaw chided. "Let it come naturally. It is your gift. The acorn only awaits your summons."

Donal tried again, with all the urgent determination of a child learning a new skill. Whatever he was meant to do did not occur. His shoulders slumped, and he looked up at Shaw in defeat. A sole tear ran down his face.

Shaw placed both hands on the boy's shoulder. There was something deeply paternal in his touch.

"It does not matter. You will have much time to learn, and when we go—" He stopped himself. "You will learn. You need not be afraid anymore, Donal. No one will ever punish you again."

Donal rocked back on his heels. Claudia experienced another stab of guilt.

I did not know. I did not know.

"Can I try the animals?" Donal asked Shaw.

"Of course.
Who would you like to call?"

"The gray fox.
Not Tod, but the other one."

"Very well," Shaw said with an indulgent smile. "Call the gray fox."

Donal closed his eyes. His mouth moved silently. A slow murmur began in the surrounding shrubbery, gradually increasing in volume. Small animals burst from hiding. Even a shy
red deer calf stepped halfway into the clearing. Claudia dug her fingers into the ash to keep from fleeing in sheer, instinctive terror.

The animals gathered about Shaw and the boy like subjects paying homage to their ruler. A badger nosed its way into Donal's lap. He laughed with delight.

"You see? The animals aren't hard," Donal said.

"Your call is strong but unfocused," Shaw said. "The beasts obey you. But where is the fox? Is he too busy to come?"

"I can't find him," Donal said. "Where is he? Why isn't he with the lady
fox
now like he was before?"

Shaw's smile faded. He gazed at Donal with an expression of sadness and regret. "There is a season for everything," he said. "Nothing in this mortal world lasts, Donal."

The pensive moment was interrupted by the arrival of a fox—not the dog but the vixen, trailed by her new cubs. The vixen sidled up to Shaw and rubbed herself against him while the cubs scampered to Donal and licked his hands like unruly puppies.

After a few minutes of rough-and-tumble play, Shaw waved the family back into the woods. They led a procession of beasts out of the clearing at various trots, scurries, shuffles, and bounds.

"You said you would show me the stag," Donal said, sitting up on his knees. "You said you could change whenever you wanted. Show me now?"

Claudia put her back to the ash and closed her eyes. Her body shook as if from a palsy. She clenched her fists, her nails drawing blood.

Him.
It was
him
. All the things she had felt wrong about Hartley Shaw made a terrible sense. And so did
Eden's inexplicable attraction to a common servant.

He had not disappeared as she had dared to believe. He had not gone back to whatever hellish place he came from. He was
here
—the creature who had ruined her life years before he met Eden Fleming.

And he had found Eden and her son.

Hatred returned, blossoming as swiftly as the roses in the garden. It was a heady feeling. It restored her courage as nothing else could. Her
courage,
and her determination.

Oh, he'd fooled them all, changed his appearance enough that no one who had seen him as Cornelius Fleming would look for him in a laborer. And who would think to seek his alien nature beneath the human veneer?

That was why it was up to her to save
Eden and to exact revenge at last. Her life, which had lacked purpose since their exile to Hartsmere, had meaning again. No longer would she worry about
Eden's infatuation with Hartley Shaw. She would find a way to use it to her own advantage, and for
Eden's ultimate good.

As for the boy… if not for her hatred of his father, she might have let Shaw—Cornelius, or whatever he chose to call himself—take him away as he surely planned to do. She could only assume he had not done so already because he had further designs upon
Eden. But if Claudia's plans succeeded, Donal would be in need of a new father and mother.

The one thing she could not do was tell
Eden who Shaw really was. He might have her bewitched, and she was too emotionally fragile to face the truth. Eventually she must, of course. But Shaw didn't suspect what Claudia knew of him. That gave her an incalculable advantage.

Calm and clearheaded again, Claudia peered around the ash. Donal and his father—so much alike, now that she understood—were discussing the wing pattern of an emperor moth. It occurred to her to wonder why this creature was unaware of her presence, and she guessed that he was completely absorbed with his son. But that could change in an instant.

With utmost care, Claudia made her way to the edge of the wood. The pursuit she feared did not come. Once safely away from the vicinity of the trees, she relaxed her walk as if she had just come back from a casual stroll.

She settled in the sitting room and sent for a tea tray. Her hands were completely steady as she poured. The day would proceed as expected. The marquess would find nothing amiss.
Nothing whatsoever.

Eden
returned only an hour before the appointed time. She looked harried and flustered, her hair straggling about her neck and her skin sheened with perspiration.

"I am sorry to be so late, Aunt," she said, tugging off her bonnet. Her hair tumbled free as if the bonnet alone had held it in place. Armstrong hurried into the drawing room to take her spencer.

"You are hopelessly disheveled, my dear," Claudia said. She took
Eden's arm and solicitously led her to a chair. "What has happened?"

"What has not?"
Eden plopped into the chair with unladylike force. "Everything has gone wrong in the dale. Livestock missing, quarrels over boundaries, flooding, Mrs. Topping ill, Mr. Appleyard upset because Mr. Holmes's sheep got into his garden and ate his vegetables—it all seems to be occurring at once!" She blew out her breath, stirring a tendril of hair that lay across her nose. "I cannot understand it."

But I think, now, that I can. If you are busy elsewhere
, he
has more time alone with your
—
his
—
son
.

How many of these predicaments are
his
doing
? Claudia nodded with the right degree of reserved sympathy. "You should not exhaust yourself. You cannot, nor are you expected to, see personally to every problem in the dale. That is Mr. Rumbold's province."

"Yes, yes. You are undoubtedly right, Aunt, but now that they have given their trust to me—" Her eyes lit, as they had once done at the prospect of a new ball gown or handsome beau. "I do not want to let them down. But I must spend so much time away from Donal. It would not be fair to take him on all these errands. Where is he?"

"With that groom, I believe," Claudia answered, not bothering to hide her scorn. The truth was far more effective than any prevarication. "
Nancy is off visiting her family today, and Mrs. Byrne is even less reliable at watching the boy. You are aware that Shaw takes Donal to the woods almost every afternoon?"

"Yes."
Eden frowned. "I see no harm in it." She bolted from her seat. "I must find Donal before the marquess arrives."

"You needn't worry about anything but preparing yourself for Lord Rushborough's call," Claudia said. "Surely you don't require the boy until after the marquess departs."

"But I do, Aunt."
Eden met her gaze. "I intend to tell Francis that Donal is my son."

Claudia hid her dismay. "Why, after all you have done to establish him as your cousin's child, and legitimate?"

Eden
's face took on a peculiar, closed expression, and she spoke as if to herself. "Now is not the time for hesitation. I must see this through. And I must do it before… before Francis…" She trailed off, flushing. "This is how it must be."

Eden
's stubbornness had grown to unmanageable proportions. She knew that Donal was Cornelius's son but did not recognize Shaw's true identity. If she knew of Donal's gifts, she had never admitted to it. Was displaying Donal to the marquess, and presenting him as her own son, a test of Rushborough's suitability as a father and husband? Or was this Shaw's work?

Subterfuge, not confrontation, was the only way to handle this situation. "I strongly advise you against it… But if your heart is set, I shall find the boy. Go upstairs and dress."

"Thank you."
Eden pressed Claudia's hand and bent to kiss her cheek. Claudia watched her run lightly into the hall and up the stairs.

When the coast was clear, Claudia went through the garden toward the stables. Much to her relief, Donal and Shaw had returned from the forest and were talking to old Dalziel by the carriage house.

Claudia's steps slowed. Now she must speak to Shaw face-to-face, hiding all the while what she knew of him. She drew on her hatred to see her through.

The three saw her approach and lined up in a row to confront her. Shaw folded his arms across his chest. Donal wedged himself between the men, peeping out between two sets of legs.

Dalziel doffed his cap. He still favored the arm he had injured in his accident with Atlas, but he was healing well, according to Mrs. Byrne. Perhaps he would be able to resume his duties once Shaw was gone.

Claudia drew up before them, holding her body very erect. "Donal, Lady Eden wishes you to come to the house."

"She is returned from the dale?" Shaw asked. He stared at her with challenge in his eyes, acknowledging her as an enemy—but not quite the enemy he supposed.

"Lady Eden is preparing to receive a guest," Claudia said, smiling just enough to make Shaw understand her meaning. She held out her hand. "Come, Donal."

He did so with reluctance. "Lady Eden wishes to see me," he told Shaw.

"I will see you tomorrow, then." Shaw smiled at the boy the same way he had in the forest. "You did well today."

Donal beamed. He dashed toward the house ahead of Claudia so that she had to hurry to catch up. She seized his hand just as he reached the door.