Chapter 5
For three full days, the lady he desired found ways to avoid him, and he was determined to discover ways to remain near her.
So after a dinner taken disturbingly alone, he had Fox summon Winn to him in his small library. He sat in his wing chair and rose when she entered.
There, her hands folded before her, her gaze trained somewhere over his shoulder, she did a curtsy. He silently fumed. If he could rise for her, she took that to mean she should bob for him. Blast it.
He sought some cooler resolve and began to tell her of his decisions.
“Tomorrow you will take your breakfast with me and the children at half eight in the yellow room on the first floor.”
Confusion struck her and she batted her lashes. “I…I don’t understand.”
“You will appear at half eight in the yellow drawing room. I have ordered John the footman to bring up a small table from the storage room. Fox will have it dressed for breakfast. The three boys will attend. So will I.”
“But…why?”
“To eat.”
She did direct her eyes to his then. “That is not done.”
“It is now.”
“Young children do not eat with any regard to their fingers or—”
“Like all else, they will learn more by example than warning.”
She bristled. “Housekeepers do not dine with their employers.”
“Mine does.”
She narrowed those mesmerizing dark brown eyes and—yes, he heard her—she growled at him. “The boys will get ideas.”
“I expect them to do so.”
She twitched her nose.
Perturbed, was she? Good.
“If this is your way to—?”
“What?” Make us a family?
“Endear me to them.”
“There is no need for that. You already are dear to them.” He had to point that out to tug at her heart. “They speak of you constantly. No governess has shown them any spark of fun.”
“That is not the role of a governess.”
“It should be. Besides, they need it. You know it. Have provided it freely and in good will. So shall it continue.”
She took a step toward him, shaking her head. “They must not come to expect that from a governess or a housekeeper. Servants do not give laughter or succor.”
“But you have.”
She drew herself up in umbrage. “I merely acted normal as if…”
“As if you cared for them?” He rose and took two steps toward her.
She wore that scent of honeysuckle, reminding him of that summer day when she had reached out to him, her hands spread upon his chest, her lips melting upon his—and suddenly he had her in his arms. “I know you care for them. You cannot help it. Giving, consoling, celebrating is what you do. It is who you are at heart.”
“But when I leave, they will be so disappointed.” The look of remorse turning down her pretty pink mouth told him she would be sad, too.
It would be so easy to touch her, bring her close, enfold her and kiss those firm sweet lips. But he would not. Must not. He would instead show her all the reasons why she must stay.
“Then you must not go.”
She scowled at him. “You try to trap me.”
“Never! I had a woman who accused me of that. She did not wish to be with me other than in my bed. Now I see you as a woman who may wish to be with me not only in bed but out of it. And not just happy with me, but loving to my charming children.”
He stood inches from her, the temptation to persuade her with hot kisses a force sweeping his whole body. “Tell me you don’t want me and we will be finished here.”
She fought for words, her mouth opening and closing as she formed thoughts.
“I see,” he said with compassion for her torment, “you cannot lie to me. Another trait I value. A valuable trait I could never depend upon from my wife.”
Fear suddenly flashed in her eyes.
He knew not why, but he would try to learn. “Go now. I will see you at half eight for breakfast.”
* * *
Again snow had fallen yesterday. The weather was so cold and dreary, everyone in the house had remained inside. But this morning, one look out his dressing room window told him he was in luck today. He had bright sun and a crisp breeze.
Dressed warmly in grey wool trousers, a forest green frockcoat and a deep purple and green Scots plaid waistcoat, he had waived off his valet’s attempt at an elaborate tie to his neck cloth and rushed out to the hall and down to the kitchen.
By the foyer clock, he noted it was twenty past seven. He knew his boys were not yet awake. Former governesses awakened them at seven. By one in the afternoon, they were always cranky. This later time and sweeter company would better suit them.
“Good morning, Miss Ferris.” He smiled at his young cook who was elbow deep in flour rolling dough. She was Winn’s good friend and she had always been agreeable as well as skilled.
She inclined her head. “Morning, yer lordship.”
“I see you are already at work. I made a few changes for the house last night and I should have instructed Fox to inform you of them. But it was late and I urged him to go to bed.”
“Mister Fox told me last night, sir, of yer new breakfast plans.”
“Wonderful. I have come to ask a favor.”
“‘Course, sir. What can I do for you?” She wiped her hands on her long white apron.
“While I do not wish to disturb your progress, I wonder if you might be able to make something sweet for our first breakfast together.”
She was a stocky woman, healthy and also up from his country estate. She had big smiles and when she bestowed them, she showed off her big white teeth. She did so now. “I’ve planned for scones, sir. Apple. Will that be good?”
“Excellent. You can add the regular oat porridge and prunes. Toast, too.”
“And a bit of bacon?” She had a twinkle in her dark eyes.
“A fine addition. Thank you.”
Winn appeared in the archway from the hall. She halted, one hand to the plaster, surprised to see him there. “I came to check on the breakfast menu.” She glanced at her friend the cook and offered a faint smile.
“I have already done so,” he told her. “Cook makes apple scones in addition to our usual fare.”
“Oh?” One of her brows dipped as she examined both of them. “Do you need anything else, sir? Anything special?”
He stared at her. Was she shooing him out of his own kitchen?
“My business with Cook is done, Miss Mathers, but I will have more to discuss with you after we dine.”
Bridgette folded her arms, her eyes dashing between them, as if she waited for an argument to erupt.
Winn turned for the hall. “As you wish.”
“Wonderful, thank you, Bridgette.” He strode toward Winn. “After you, Miss Mathers.”
She harumphed, but swung away. “I’m off to see if the boys are dressed and ready.”
“As you wish.”
He proceeded to the small room, now transformed from informal sitting room into a room whose very center was a round intimate table for five.
Fox had ordered the downstairs maid to dress the table in a bright berry red cloth with merry green serviettes.
The children could enjoy their meal as they should without regard to white linens.
He wanted his boys to find happiness in all they did.
He had tried these past two years to learn them, their ways, their funny little intricacies and he had tried to be a good father, albeit a traditional one.
But stuffy went only so far. From now on, he would ensure their happiness in new ways.
He took a chair, facing the door. Earlier, he had ordered Fox to deliver his newspaper to him in his room with his coffee. He would have nothing disturb his time with his family.
He heard them coming down the stairs, Winn urging them along.
“Good morning,” he bid them all as they rounded the table. He rose and extended a hand toward the chair beside him. “Miss Mathers, this is your place.”
Her gaze shot to him. Surprise gave way to a flash of anger and lastly, surrender. “Mr. Fox and the footman will arrive with our breakfast.”
“Why do we have to eat here?” William scrunched up his little mouth.
Roger sat taller in his chair. “Will we be bad if we spill food on the carpet?”
“We doubt you will,” Winn said to him, though she confirmed what she said with a sharp glance at Bettington.
“Papa?” William was not to be calmed. “I don’t want the belt.“
“William,” Bettington sighed, “you will never fear a belt again.”
Roger tipped back his head. “Never?”
“That is right.”
“Why?”
“Roger, things are different in this household. We do not go by what others think or what they want. We order our lives on what we know is right. One fact to know is that hitting children with a belt or a hand is not right. If I had known of the practice of your governesses before, I would have stopped it.”
Roger checked Winn’s gaze. “Even…even housekeepers?”
“Even them,“ Winn interjected. “I do not find such actions necessary.”
“Not for li’l kids with bows and arrows?” William asked.
“Not them,” she told him.
“Not anyone,” said Bettington.
Surprise had the three boys looking long and hard at both Winn and him.
Bettington forced himself to refrain from smiling at them, one and all.
Instead, he waited until Fox and the footman had come and gone, leaving dishes on the table to be passed and shared, just as he had instructed Fox last night.
When the bacon had disappeared, the porridge bowls emptied and the scones mere crumbly memories, Bettington pickled up his serviette, wiped his lips and put it to one side. “Now, I have plans for us today.”
Four pairs of curious eyes met his.
“I have ordered the carriage brought round. At ten o’clock, we leave for a spot north of town where a small pond is iced over. Bring your pattens and your blades.”
“We’re going skating?” Winn asked him, her expression brightened by the prospect.
“We are.” He stood.
All of them followed.
Winn began to curtsy and the boys started to incline their heads.
He put up both hands. “Here, we are in private. Morning meals, afternoon teas and dinners will be here. You will attend. Each of you. Among us, you will show no formalities. Only when in public. I wish to see instead impeccable manners. Am I clear?”
Tio, his mouth decorated in crumbs and berry jam, tugged at William’s sleeve. “What’s forma-bittles?”