Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
“Islept wonderfully last night,” pronounced Lady Esher as she sipped her morning coffee with an air of great contentment. “I do enjoy traveling but it is so good to be back in my own bed again. Don’t you think so, Louisa?”
Feeling awkward in front of the Duke of Northwick after their double confrontation last night, Louisa made some polite and non-committal words of reply and kept her eyes on her plate. Did he not feel even the slightest bit out of joint today? Or was he only better than Louisa at dissimulation?
It was hard to look the duke in the face long enough to gauge his present temper. Louisa looked more at his feet, noting that he wore riding boots and had likely risen early.
“Well, I slept very well indeed,” the duke pronounced, indeed seeming very well-rested and rather handsome, although his hair was somewhat disordered from his ride.
“I must also compliment you on your stable and your local country, Lady Esher. My morning ride was quite the tonic after so many days in a carriage.”
“Yes, I used to be quite the horsewoman when I was younger,” commented Lady Esher, her face crinkling in pleasure as it always did at compliments towards Rosemere. “My own mounts are as old and staid as I am now, but I do keep a few more lively beasts, for breeding stock as well as riding.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Louisa saw the duke nodding and glancing towards her.
“Yes, the grey stallion I took out this morning could match any of my own stable for liveliness and fleetness of foot,” he remarked. “I think I saw your mare too, Lady Louisa, unless there is another mare heavily in foal? She is a fine animal too.”
“Storm,” Louisa replied automatically with a smile, the thought of this beloved horse always lifting her mood. “Yes, you must have seen her for we are not expecting any other foals here this summer. I must take the children out and give Storm a carrot or two later.”
“I already gave her an apple this morning,” the duke replied, returning Louisa’s smile. “The stable lad said she liked them and I hoped you wouldn’t mind her having an extra treat or two at this time.”
“Thunder, the horse you rode, and Storm are a fine pair,” mused Lady Esher. “He has such spirit and she has such sweet temper but both are strong and healthy. I do look forward to seeing their foal.”
“Ah, so Thunder was the stallion that…”
The duke did not complete his sentence, but looked meaningfully across the table to Lady Esher instead. For some reason, Louisa found herself blushing at this question, or maybe at the fact that he was again apparently treating her more like a child than an adult woman.
“Ash was the stallion who serviced Storm, yes,” confirmed Lady Esher crisply with all the pragmatism of the no-nonsense countrywoman. “We are not squeamish about correct terminology in the stables, are we, Louisa?”
Louisa shook her head although her face was burning like a schoolgirl’s at this conversation.
Why am I being so childish?
Was it even Louisa’s own fault that the duke treated her as he did?
She usually had no qualms at all about listening to aunt discussing the breeding of horses or dogs with the head groom or gamekeeper.
Somehow it was not the same with this man; it felt so very different and she couldn’t understand why.
It was an echo of the same bewildering and almost overwhelming sensation that had sent Louisa fleeing from the duke’s bedroom door last night…
“Fanny, Ezra, there you are!” Louisa babbled, jumping up from her seat as a nursemaid brought the two children in to the breakfast room, both now washed, brushed and neatly dressed. “I was beginning to think you had gone back to bed again. You must be very hungry indeed.”
Fanny returned Louisa’s hug but Ezra toddled straight over to the Duke of Northwick and began demanding to be picked up as he had often done in the dining rooms at the inns on their journey.
“Gertie,” Lady Esher began to say, “His Grace is still eating his breakfast. Can you please…”
“Never mind,” the duke interrupted, sighing as he lifted the little boy onto his lap and hiding the hint of a smile at his lips. “Ezra is here now. Let’s not fuss. You may go until we ring for you, Gertie.”
“Are you sure, Your Grace?” asked Lady Esher with some hesitation. “We shall make sure there is a little more time for you to breakfast tomorrow before the children invade.”
“I’ll get Ezra some bread, cake and milk,” Louisa quickly offered. “Ezra, no, do not take that roll. It isn’t yours.”
“Never mind that either,” chuckled the Duke of Northwick as the small boy began chewing on the half-eaten morning roll from his plate.
“There are plenty more. I dare say this little chap will be out playing for the rest of the day and I won’t see him again until tomorrow.
We might as well have a morning chat now. ”
Ezra answered only by leaning comfortably back against the duke’s chest and taking another bite of bread. Fanny gave a very disapproving big-sisterly huff as she took her seat beside Lady Esher where Louisa had placed a large cushion to reach the table.
“You shouldn’t eat from other people’s plates, Ezra,” she lectured her brother. “Mama and Papa would not be happy. You should eat like Aunt Beatrice and Louisa.”
Ezra ignored Fanny entirely, just as he ignored the smaller plate Louisa had set before him.
The duke’s buttered roll was apparently of far more interest than his own breakfast. In contrast, Fanny politely accepted the milk, egg and bread offered to her by Lady Esher and began to eat hungrily but tidily.
“If you eat some of the food on his plate, Your Grace, I dare say Ezra might too,” suggested Louisa after a few minutes of observation. “I believe he is copying you again.”
Seeming amused by this idea, the Duke of Northwick did as Louisa said and then guffawed to see Ezra’s pudgy little hand reaching for his cake just as she had predicted. He raised the milk cup to his mouth and set it down, only for Ezra to reach for it a moment later and drain it entirely.
The duke’s contrasting eyes met Louisa’s as he grinned and she responded automatically in kind.
“I must be careful what I say and do at Rosemere, if I have such a faithful young follower,” he said.
“Yes,” Louisa agreed simply, wishing that she could make up her mind about the Duke of Northwick.
One moment, he was kind and solicitous and the next careless or rude.
Sometimes Louisa was sure that he was a good man and she liked him, but at other times, the roiling in her heart and body that he seemed to provoke was so strong that it made her wonder if she hated him.
It did not really feel like hatred, but she had never hated anyone before.
“I told Seraphine that I would get the children a new suit of summer clothes each while they are here,” announced Aunt Beatrice conversationally, as she poured herself another cup of coffee.
“I thought we could take them to the village today to be measured by Mrs. Shaw, Louisa. She will be expecting us to call this week.”
“Yes, of course,” agreed Louisa. “Mrs. Shaw is so good with children’s clothes. Her mother was a seamstress too and used to make all my dresses when I was young.”
These last words were spoken to the duke, who only nodded rather blandly in response, likely having no interest in children’s clothing.
“My dolls need new ribbons,” Fanny put in. “Does Mrs. Shaw have ribbons for dolls?”
“She does have a good collection of ribbons, but only shows them to little girls who eat all their breakfast,” replied Aunt Beatrice with a smile. “I’m sure we could persuade her to sell us a few. The weather is good and we can walk to the village as soon we’re done with breakfast.”
Fanny nodded and drank her milk swiftly after swallowing a last bite of bread.
“I’ve eaten all my breakfast, Aunt Beatrice,” she blurted out. “Can my dolls have ribbons now?”
“I shall let you and Louisa inspect the ribbons while Ezra is being measured,” agreed the older lady with an indulgent smile. “Now, how is Ezra getting on with his breakfast?”
“Almost done,” Louisa reported, “thanks to His Grace.”
She leaned across with a napkin to wipe the boy’s crumb-smeared mouth but he twisted away from her and clung to the duke’s jacket.
“His Grace has been very kind, Ezra, but you must come to me now to get ready to go out,” Louisa told him gently.
“No!” declared Ezra fiercely. “I stay with Uncle Benedict.”
“Don’t you want a nice suit of new clothes, Ezra?” asked Lady Esher, looking between the awkward child and her niece. “Louisa will be getting a new dress too. That nice green summer dress Mrs. Shaw is making should be ready for a final fitting, dear.”
“No!” the little boy answered. “I’ve got my clothes on.”
“Yes, but you are growing, Ezra,” Louisa tried to explain. “You need new clothes all the time.”
“Don’t want to!” he retorted belligerently, eluding Louisa’s grasp when she reached forward to take him from the duke.
“Uncle Benedict can come too,” Fanny suggested blithely, oblivious to the flash of surprise and mild annoyance that Louisa saw crossing the duke’s face.
While he clearly liked his friends’ children, and had showed great patience around Fanny and Ezra, that did not meant that he wished to spend his day in domestic pursuits like outfitting them. There were limits to a man’s patience, Louisa supposed, just as there were limits to hers.
“I think His Grace may have other plans,” Louisa tried to suggest tactfully to Fanny. “Ezra, I’m going to get your toy dog from upstairs and Rover can come with us in the carriage.”
“I want Uncle Benedict!” insisted Ezra, his arms tightening around the duke’s neck. “I don’t want Rover.”