Chapter Eleven #2
“My, look at that,” Gideon commented, inspecting the items gravely. He picked up the key. “This looks as though it has been around for a long time. Someone must have been unhappy, don’t you think, years ago when they lost it?”
Timothy nodded and began to explain when and where he had found each of the things he had deemed worthy of being shown to Gideon.
When he had finished this rambling discourse, he pulled Gideon over to show him the snail he had been watching earlier, only to find that the creature had finally made its way across the path and had disappeared beneath a bush.
Irene, watching the two of them, was amazed at both Gideon’s patience with the boy and his obvious affection for him. She would have said there was no softness in him, especially after the blunt set-down he had given the other evening to Lady Odelia.
But there was no hint of the autocrat in the man who listened so carefully to the small boy. Nor would she have guessed that the man she saw now would be intent on marrying for such cool, unemotional, businesslike purposes.
Gideon turned and saw her watching them, and he smiled at her.
Her heart did a little turn in her chest as the full force of his easy, unfettered, genuinely happy smile hit her.
The cold, hard angles of his face changed into a handsomeness that was both warm and compelling, pulling her in, and she could not have kept from smiling back at him even if she had wanted to.
Gideon rose lithely to his feet. “Well, much as I enjoy talking with you, Timothy, and seeing your treasures, I suspect that the excellent Miss Tyning is no doubt searching madly for you. We should take you back to the house.”
The boy gave in without much complaining, and they turned to go back down the path. Gideon paused beside Irene. “Won’t you walk with us, my lady?”
“Yes, do,” Timothy added, reaching out to take Irene’s hand. He looked back toward Gideon and added confidingly, “I like her. She didn’t scold me for getting dirty.” He pointed toward the smudges on his knees where he had knelt on the path.
“Lady Irene is a jewel among women,” Gideon agreed, casting an amused glance at her.
“I don’t think she likes Horroughs, either,” Timothy went on.
At that statement, Gideon chuckled. “Then she is definitely worthy of our friendship.”
Timothy smiled happily. “I knew you’d like her.” He turned to look up at Irene. “Are you going to come live here, too?”
Irene ignored the sideways look Gideon sent her and told Timothy, “I am merely visiting. I shall be here only for a week or two.”
“Oh.” Timothy looked downcast.
They emerged into the upper garden. As soon as they did, they saw a thin, nervous-looking woman in a plain brown bombazine dress hurrying along the main path, glancing anxiously down each row of shrubs she passed.
When the woman saw them, she let out a cry and hurried in their direction. “Master Timothy! There you are!”
She came to a stop before them, managing to look both furious at Timothy’s escape and cowed by the sight of the Earl of Radbourne.
“I beg your pardon, my lord. I am so sorry if the boy has troubled you. I promise you it will not happen again,” she said in a rush, reaching out to grab Timothy’s other hand.
Irene gave Timothy’s hand a reassuring squeeze before she released it, but in fact, she could not see that he looked particularly frightened at the prospect of his governess’s wrath.
“Miss Tyning!” A shrill voice issued from above them on the terrace.
They all looked up and saw Lady Teresa standing there, her pretty doll-like features twisted into an expression of venom. She lifted her skirts and hurried down the steps toward them.
“Have you lost track of him again, Miss Tyning?” she exclaimed as she drew near, her voice high and shrewish. “I cannot conceive how a grown woman can be so easily outwitted by a five-year-old boy!”
“I am sorry, my lady,” Miss Tyning said softly, curtseying before Teresa, her eyes turned down to the ground. “I—I thought he was playing in his room, and I—”
“He was merely in the garden,” Irene put in, feeling sorry for the woman in the face of Teresa’s anger. “He came to no harm.”
Teresa turned her glare on Irene. “And you, an unmarried woman, know so much about children,” she said with withering disdain.
Irene was not so easily intimidated as the governess, however, and she gazed back at Teresa with cool assurance.
“I did not mean to discount the great worry that a concerned mother such as yourself must feel. Indeed, I am quite surprised that I have not seen Timothy before, for I am sure you must spend a great deal of time with him.”
Teresa bridled at the ironic undertone of Irene’s words, but Irene went on before she could speak.
“However, though I may not know much about children, I have a great deal of faith in the fact that there is little harm that could come to Lord Radbourne’s brother on the grounds of Radbourne Park.
Timothy may have been out of sight of the house, but he was definitely not out of hearing, and I dare swear there are gardeners working about the grounds who could help him.
Why, in the short time he was out there, both Lord Radbourne and I chanced past where he was.
So I think you may rest easy that he was in no danger. ”
Teresa’s glare remained unchanged. Without looking at either her son or his governess, she snapped, “Miss Tyning, take Timothy inside now. I will be up to deal with both of you later.”
“Yes, my lady.” Again the governess bobbed her obeisance to Teresa, then headed for the terrace, dragging Timothy with her.
The boy turned to look back at Gideon and Irene, and gave them an insouciant wave. Irene hid a smile at the gesture, but Gideon did not bother to hide his response and waved back.
“Stay away from my son!” Teresa ordered, turning to Gideon.
“I beg your pardon?” Gideon turned his gaze on her, flat and black, unyielding.
“You heard me,” Teresa went on. “There is no reason for you to be around him.”
“He is my brother,” Gideon reminded her.
“He is none of your concern!” Teresa shot back.
Gideon raised his eyebrows a little at the force of her reaction, but he said nothing.
Teresa, however, was not finished. “You encourage him to misbehave. He did not escape from Miss Tyning nearly as often before you came to the Park.”
“He knows that I frequently take a walk about this time in the afternoon,” Gideon admitted.
“I think perhaps he hopes to run into me here. If we were to set up a schedule, a time every day when he and I would go for a stroll, then he might not be tempted to ‘escape,’ and you would not have to worry that he might be in danger. It would be good for him.”
“I am the one who will say what is good for Timothy,” Teresa told him.
It seemed to Irene that Teresa looked even angrier than before at what seemed to her a very reasonable and even generous offer on Gideon’s part.
There were not many men who would suggest taking on the company of a lively five-year-old boy even for a few minutes each day.
Irene started to give Teresa her opinion, then realized that would probably only annoy the woman even more and certainly wouldn’t help Gideon and Timothy’s case.
Teresa went on, her voice rising into a screech. “Do you think I want my son to spend more time with you? Do you think I want him to speak like a shopkeeper or have the manners of a street urchin?”
Irene drew in a sharp breath at the insult and glanced quickly at Gideon. His face was stony. He looked at Teresa for a moment, his lips pressed tightly together.
Then he said, “I am afraid that you are quite overset, my lady. No doubt your worry for your son impels you to say things that you will later regret. I suggest we both forget this conversation.” He bowed slightly toward her. “No doubt you wish to get back to the nursery to look after your son.”
He turned to Irene, offering her his arm. “Lady Irene? Shall we continue our walk?”
“Yes, of course.” She put her hand on his arm, and they stepped away from Teresa.
Gideon’s arm was like iron beneath her hand, and Irene cast a quick glance upward at his face. His expression was still like granite.
“You must not pay any attention to what Lady Radbourne said,” Irene told him. “She is a fool.”
“There is no denying that,” he agreed.
“I am sorry.”
“For what? You did nothing.”
“I know. But still, I am sorry that she was…unkind.”
“I have dealt with far worse than Teresa, believe me.” He shrugged. “Anyway, she is merely the only one rude enough—or stupid enough—to say to my face what all my relatives feel.”
“No. I am sure they do not,” Irene protested. “Anyway, you don’t speak like a shopkeeper. And your manners—well, perhaps you are not so polished as some gentlemen, but I have met a good number of gentlemen who are quite ill-mannered, I assure you.”
He smiled, his face relaxing, as he flashed a look at her. “Are you trying to make me feel better, my lady?”
She lifted her chin. “I am simply telling the truth.”
“Well, the truth is that I was a street urchin,” he said.
“Yes, but obviously you became something much more than that,” she pointed out. “As I understand it, even before the Duke of Rochford tracked you down, you had done well for yourself.”
He looked at her. “I made a good deal of money, that is true.”
“Well, that is admirable in itself, is it not?” she persisted. “That you got out of the situation you were in, that you got away from that man you told me about—”
“Jack Sparks.”
“And you stopped being a thief.” She paused, then added, with a touch of concern, “Didn’t you?”
Gideon laughed. “Yes. You need not worry that the Runners are going to track me down and toss me into gaol. All my business concerns are now legitimate. They were not always so, but I managed to become legal a good many years ago. I had no desire to end my days hanging from a gibbet.”
They continued in silence for a moment, then Irene asked, “How did you do it?”