Chapter Nine #2
A slow grin crossed the earl’s face. “My grandfather had such an ability. I did not know Catherine shared his gift.”
“Well, she does. And while I certainly feel it is an amazing and potentially useful talent, Catherine applies it in the oddest way.”
“How so?”
Isabella let out a long breath. “She is obsessed with battles. Warfare of any kind intrigues her, but the recent conflict with France seems to be a particular fascination. Catherine and Ian stage numerous mock battles with the large collection of toy soldiers they have, and her attention to detail is overwhelming. Catherine knows precisely how many troops are on each side, how the action of the battle takes place, which generals issued what specific commands. It is remarkable.” Isabella looked down at her hands.
“She is also intrigued about the number of causalities after the battle, wounded as well as dead. Her insistence on accuracy can be positively chilling at times.”
“That seems very peculiar.” Damien swallowed the last of his coffee. His brow wrinkling in confusion, he asked, “What do you think this means?”
“I am not certain.” Isabella shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “Yet, I cannot help but feel this obsession with death and dying is not healthy.”
The earl wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin and tossed it casually on the table.
“I agree that Catherine’s behavior is unhealthy and should not be tolerated,” Damien said. Pushing his chair away from the table, he rose to his feet. “I shall speak to Catherine this evening and instruct her to cease this odd behavior immediately.”
“Oh, no!” Isabella jumped up in dismay. Her knee hit the edge of the dining room table and the earl’s breakfast dishes rattled noisily. “You cannot simply order Catherine to stop.”
Damien raised a brow. “Why not? As her parent, I am responsible for her conduct. If she is acting in an unacceptable manner, then it must cease. At once.”
Isabella flashed him a look of pure consternation. How typical of him to pursue the easiest course by demanding the strange behavior stop, instead of searching for the underlying cause.
“I do not think ordering Catherine to stop playing with her soldiers is the correct solution. While she and Ian are reenacting these rather bloody battles, she always mentions your role in the conflict.”
“My role?”
Isabella nodded her head. “It is my understanding that you and Mr. Jenkins participated in the fighting in the Peninsula.” At the earl’s curt nod, Isabella continued. “Catherine’s main focus of interest is the actual battles you participated in.”
Damien looked totally bewildered. “Those conflicts took place years ago, long before she was born. How can Catherine possible be aware of my involvement?”
Isabella squirmed uncomfortably under the earl’s intense gaze. Even though she felt no loyalty toward Mrs. Amberly, Isabella was reluctant to reveal the housekeeper’s connection. Yet seeing no alternative, she disclosed the truth.
“Apparently Mrs. Amberly kept a scrapbook of newspaper clippings while you were away fighting. Over the past few years, she has read the printed accounts of these battles to the children and Catherine has committed the details to memory.”
“How very extraordinary,” Damien muttered to himself.
“Yes, it is amazing.” Isabella bit her lip nervously before uttering her next remark. “However, I think this peculiar behavior only illustrates how deeply the children, especially Catherine, crave the attention and love of their father.”
The expression on the earl’s handsome face was guarded. “I may not be, in your opinion, the most attentive parent on earth, but I can assure you, Isabella, I cherish my son and daughter.”
The remoteness in the earl’s eyes betrayed his inner feelings, and Isabella realized suddenly that she had wounded him. It surprised and disturbed her, for it had not been her intention.
“I did not mean to offend you, Damien,” she insisted contritely. “I have merely observed that Catherine and Ian miss their father. They have seen very little of you this past week.”
“This is an exceedingly busy season at The Grange,” Damien said abruptly, obviously still feeling the sting of her remarks. “I have numerous responsibilities on the estate that cannot be ignored.”
“You also have a responsibility to your children, sir,” Isabella replied quietly. “They have not spoken with you in days.”
The earl turned his back on Isabella in annoyance.
Her words rankled him, yet he knew in his heart that she spoke the truth.
He had allowed his duties on the estate to monopolize his time, and apparently Catherine and Ian were suffering because of it.
There was no excuse for neglecting his children, no matter how busy he was.
And it was even more annoying to have a new governess point out his shortcomings to him.
Damien strode to the door and swung it open, but paused for a moment before leaving. “I shall return to the castle today for tea. I expect you and the children to join me in the drawing room at the appropriate time.” The door closed quietly behind him.
Isabella collapsed in the chair after he left, a feeling of exhaustion overwhelming her.
She could barely believe she had the nerve to call the earl to task on his parental obligations.
And he had listened to her. But she had truly believed Catherine’s odd behavior was caused by the absence of her father’s love and attention, and she had no intention of letting that disgraceful condition continue as long as the children were under her care.
Thwack! Thwack! The sound rang rhythmically through the quiet woods as the earl raised his ax and swung hard at the thick tree stump.
“She wants me to spend more time with my children,” Damien muttered as he brought the ax up for another swing. “She thinks I neglect them, and because I have been such a poor parent, Catherine has developed this strange obsession with soldiers and battles and death.”
“Miss Browning said you are neglecting the children?” Jenkins asked in amazement. The valet sat up, abandoning his relaxed pose against a giant elm, as the earl hacked away at the stump. “She actually called you a poor father?”
“In so many words,” Damien replied, making contact again with the thick tree stump.
Small chips of bark flew in all directions, but the earl did not seem to notice.
“Then in the next breath she was berating me for being too strict with Catherine and Ian. She told me that by demanding perfect behavior from them, I was suppressing their natural curiosity and stunting their growth, or some such nonsense.”
The valet winced at the earl’s annoyed tone and shook his head regretfully. “So you have dismissed Miss Browning,” Jenkins stated slowly, his voice tinged with disappointment. “I must confess Damien, I shall miss her. I have grown rather fond of her.”
“In one short week?” the earl questioned sarcastically, not wanting to admit to himself that he was also developing a fondness for the pretty young governess. Taking one final swing at the now split tree stump, the earl grinned at his valet.
“There is no need to look so downhearted, Jenkins,” Damien told his servant.
“I did not fire Miss Browning. Although I certainly had grounds.” Damien dropped the heavy ax and wiped the sweat off his brow with his shirt sleeve.
His muscular body felt strained and tired from the intense physical exertion, but his mind was still tense.
“I always thought governesses were timid creatures, Jenkins, the sort of employee one would barely notice. They have always struck me as gray, drab women who glide unobtrusively through the household, often disappearing into the background entirely.”
“Miss Browning is not a typical governess,” Jenkins replied, clearly pleased that his employer had not sent Isabella packing. “If she were, she would not have lasted more than one night at The Grange.”
The earl chuckled at that remark. “No, I don’t suppose an ordinary governess would feel comfortable in our household.” Over the years, the oddness of his staff had become an eccentric point of amusement for the earl. “Did you know she thought I was responsible for the housemaids being pregnant?”
“All four of them?” Jenkins uttered a short laugh and passed a wooden bucket of water to the earl. Damien dipped a ladle into the bucket and took a long swallow. Then he poured the remainder over his head, enjoying the feel of the cool water on his heated skin.
“Isabella might have misunderstood about the maids, but she is right about my neglecting Catherine and Ian,” the earl admitted.
Damien picked up his ax and started walking towards the clearing where the rest of the work crew was eating their lunch.
Jenkins quickly fell in step with him. “I suppose I should be grateful that she cares enough about the children to call me to task on it.”
“You spend more time with Catherine and Ian than most parents of your class,” Jenkins was quick to defend the earl.
“That is not a very good comparison, Jenkins,” the earl retorted. “In my experience, most members of the ton are too frivolous and preoccupied with social events to spare much time or thought for their offspring.”
“Good Lord, Damien, you have been occupied with countless estate matters this past week, not a round of social obligations. The children understand your many responsibilities. And so should Miss Browning.”
“I don’t think it particularly matters to my children or Miss Browning how I spend my time. The point is that I have not been with Catherine and Ian.”
Jenkins eyed the earl curiously as they reached the clearing. “How do you propose to remedy the situation?”
“I am going back to The Grange this afternoon to have tea with my children and their governess,” Damien replied smoothly, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the stunned expression on Jenkins’s face.
It gave the earl a certain sense of satisfaction to know that after all their years together, he still possessed the ability to surprise his valet.