Chapter 4
Hestia spent the night in Helena’s bedchamber hunting imaginary rodents, scampering up and down the silk draperies and nibbling on the ends of Helena’s hair. It didn’t make for a restful night, and she woke bleary-eyed and groggy the following morning.
The kitten was a great nuisance, but after yesterday’s fiasco on the staircase, she’d just as soon keep Hestia out of Lord Hawke’s sight in case he flew into another temper and tossed her out the door.
Not just Hestia, but herself, as well.
No doubt it would grow tiresome, having to tiptoe about the castle and duck around corners like some sort of thief, but whatever scandal had chased Lord Hawke from London would be forgotten soon enough.
The ton’s outrage would vanish the instant another scandal caught their attention, and he’d be on his way back to town before Mrs. Norris was obliged to replenish the brandy in the crystal decanter in his study.
Or nearly so. Brandy seemed to be one of the few things Lord Hawke did approve of.
The difficulty would come once he was gone, as Ryan and Etienne were sure to be devastated.
Tears, anger and questions with no answers would follow, but she’d deal with that once it happened.
At the moment, she’d have her hands full keeping away from Lord Hawke, as he was certain to dismiss her for good if there was another confrontation between them.
“Good morning, Miss Templeton,” Abby called as she entered the kitchen, but the cheerful smile fell from her lips when Helena collapsed at the table with a groan. “Oh, dear. You don’t look well at all. Are you ill?”
“No, just fatigued. Hestia isn’t the most decorous of bedmates, I’m afraid.”
“No, I don’t imagine she is. Can’t you put her out?”
“It’s best if she stays in my bedchamber while Lord Hawke’s here.” Helena accepted the cup of tea Abby offered her with a grateful smile. “He doesn’t like cats, not even kittens.”
Abby snorted. “That’s not the only thing he doesn’t like, from what I hear. He’s a bit hard to please, by all accounts.”
“He’s not overly fond of governesses, if that’s what you mean.” Or mistletoe. Or trees, morning sunshine, and drinking chocolate. At this point it would be easier to list the things Lord Hawke did approve of, rather than those that threw him into a temper.
“Bad luck, miss, that mishap on the stairs yesterday. I’ll carry the boys’ tray up this morning, if you like.”
“You’re a good soul, Abby, but there’s no need. The boys are on their way down already. We have our animal husbandry lesson in the stables this morning, and will take our chocolate in the kitchen afterwards.”
“Alright then, miss. But speaking of animals, what will you do about the rest of the kittens? They’re scattered all about the castle, you know, and one or the other of them is sure to cross Lord Hawke’s path sooner or later.”
“Yes, I thought of that.” Helena set her teacup down with a sigh. “I’m afraid there’s not much I can do but gather as many of them as I can find and put them in my bedchamber until Lord Hawke is gone.”
“What, all of them, miss? But you’ll not get another wink of sleep with those little imps scampering about!”
“Perhaps they’ll keep each other entertained, and leave me out of it.
” But of course, that wouldn’t happen. It was pure self-delusion to imagine a half-dozen kittens could somehow prove to be less troublesome than one, but as far as Lord Hawke was aware, Hestia was the only cat on the premises, and it was best to keep it that way.
“Have you heard anything from Lord Hawke yet this morning? He hasn’t ventured from his bedchamber yet, has he? ”
“Oh no, miss. I doubt you’ll have to worry about him for some time. Fashionable sorts like Lord Hawke never rise before late in the afternoon, you know. I daresay we won’t see hide nor hair of him before teatime.”
“My goodness, Abby, you’re right! I didn’t even think of that.” That was good news! It reduced her chances of running into him quite significantly, didn’t it? It was just the reprieve she needed to lift her spirits. “Why, with a little luck, I’ll hardly have to see him at all.”
“One hopes not, miss.”
Indeed, now she thought of it, even when he was awake, he wasn’t likely to stir a step much beyond his bedchamber and study.
It was all going to be just fine, and she was a perfect goose, worrying herself into a tizzy as she’d done.
“I’d best be off. I daresay the boys are waiting for me. Thank you for the tea, Abby.”
She waved to her friend, then hurried up the stairs, a spring in her step, a smile rising to her lips when she saw Etienne and Ryan already in the entryway. “Good morning, boys. My, you’re both prompt this morning. Are you ready for our lesson?”
“No.” Ryan shook his head, his gaze on the staircase. “Our papa isn’t here yet.”
“Your papa?” Oh, no. Did the boys think their father was going to rise this early in the morning and join them in their lessons? Where could they have gotten such an idea? Now she was going to have to explain that he wasn’t coming, and their tender little hearts were going to be broken.
She knelt down in front of them and put a hand on each thin shoulder. “I’m sorry, boys, but I don’t think your papa will be able—”
“Good morning, Miss Templeton.”
The deep voice coming from behind her so startled her she nearly fell flat on her face, but she managed to stumble to her feet, and there, at the top of the stairs was Lord Hawke, peering down upon her like a king reviewing his lowly subjects.
He wasn’t still asleep. He wasn’t in bed at all, or even in his bedchamber as he should be, but at the top of the stairs, his brows lowered in the same fearsome scowl he’d worn when he’d found her at the bottom of the stairs yesterday morning, half-drowned in drinking chocolate.
It was becoming distressingly familiar, the scowl.
“My sons tell me we’re to have our morning lesson in the stables, Miss Templeton,” Lord Hawke said, making his way down the stairs.
He looked nearly as disheveled as he’d been when he appeared in the drive yesterday, his clothing askew and his dark hair matted with sweat.
He was no longer filthy—he’d had a bath, thankfully, and the stench of debauchery was no longer clinging to him—but it didn’t look as if he’d passed a restful evening.
His complexion was gray, his eyes ringed with dark circles, and thin lines of exhaustion were etched into the corners of his mouth. Even so, there was a strong resemblance between him and his sons, particularly his eyes, which were the dark green of forest ferns.
“I fail to see why you’re dragging us outdoors in this freezing weather.” He paused at the bottom of the stairs and frowned down at her with his arms crossed over his wide chest. “Is the schoolroom not sufficient for your purposes?”
A sharp retort rose to her lips, and it was a harder struggle than it should have been for her to bite it back. It wasn’t fair, dash it. He was meant to be in his bed for hours yet, or in his study drinking brandy, or on his way back to London—anywhere but here, tormenting her.
“Good morning, my lord,” she managed through gritted teeth. “It is rather cold, I grant you, but this morning’s lesson is—”
“It’s animal husbands, papa.” Etienne beamed at his father. “Animal husbands is always in the stables.”
Lord Hawke’s dark brows went from lowered to imperiously arched in the blink of an eye. Really, the man had the most judgmental eyebrows. “Animal husbands, Miss Templeton? Is that some new course of study I’m not familiar with?”
“Etienne means animal husbandry, my lord.”
“Animal husbandry? How curious. Tell me, Miss Templeton, how is it you’re teaching the boys animal husbandry when there’s not a single livestock animal to be found anywhere on the property?”
No, there wasn’t, and it was shameful, as any gentleman with as substantial a property as Hawke’s Run should have a basic knowledge of livestock and agriculture.
And yes, perhaps ‘animal husbandry’ was a bit too grand a title for their lessons, but what harm was there in that?
“We make do with what we have, my lord.”
“Animal husbands is good fun, papa. You’ll see.” Ryan took Lord Hawke’s hand, his sweet young face bright and open as he gazed up at his father, yesterday’s fury and disappointment quickly forgotten, as was always the way with little boys.
No one was more forgiving than a child.
Right up until the point where they’d been disappointed one time too many times, and then nothing—not pleas, tears or the bitterest regrets—would ever persuade them to forgive again.
How many more chances did Lord Hawke have?
It wasn’t a question she could answer, or even one she should ask, as it wasn’t her concern. Anyway, it didn’t matter today, because he was here now, Etienne’s and Ryan’s small hands tucked into his larger ones.
The boys were so pleased and proud, skipping along at their father’s side as they made their way down the pathway that led to the stables, frosty clouds of air spilling from their lips as they chattered to him about the horse he’d ridden from London, which was tucked safely into a stall in the stables.
Guilt crept over her as she took in their happy faces.
It was dreadful of her to wish Lord Hawke away from Hawke’s Run when the boys were so starved for his attention.
He’d be gone soon enough, leaving them confused and disappointed, but at least they’d have this brief time with him.
Later, perhaps they’d recall this tiny sliver of a memory of him being home, and spending a few fleeting moments with them.
Perhaps that would make it worth all the heartache it would cause them when he disappeared again—
“Did you grow up on a farm, Miss Templeton?”
She turned, startled to find the boys had run ahead to the stables, and Lord Hawke had come up alongside her. “No, my lord, but on an estate rather like this one, though not so grand as this. My father was far more interested in plants than animal farming, and we didn’t keep a stable.”
“I see. Then how are you qualified to teach the boys animal husbandry?”
“Are you enquiring into my qualifications, Lord Hawke?” Now, six months after she’d become his sons’ governess?
He gave her a thin smile. “You look surprised, Miss Templeton, but Ryan will become the Earl of Hawke one day, and Etienne a gentleman of consequence by virtue of the family’s title and fortune alone. You can’t suppose I would leave their education to chance.”
Why shouldn’t she suppose so? He’d left every other aspect of their lives to chance.
It hardly made sense he’d trouble himself about their education.
This waspish reply leapt to her lips, but she wrestled it back down her throat.
It wouldn’t do her any good at all to bait Lord Hawke.
She could hold her tongue, for Ryan and Etienne’s sake.
“Of course not, my lord. As to my qualifications—”
“In addition to animal husbandry, I assume you teach mathematics, history, geography and literature, as well as Latin, Greek and French. I trust you’re knowledgeable in all the physical, earth and life sciences, and philosophy, as well?”
My, he certainly sounded skeptical. “Our mutual friend Lady Fosberry arranged with Mrs. Norris for me to apply for this position, Lord Hawke. Do you suppose she would have recommended me as governess if I can’t tell Shakespeare from Marlowe, or Copernicus from Newton?”
“That isn’t an answer. I’m waiting, Miss Templeton.”
She stared at him, the thread of control she had over her temper threatening to snap again.
That was precisely what he thought. He’d decided, in spite of Lady Fosberry’s recommendation, that she wasn’t qualified to teach his sons!
Her hackles rose until every inch of her was tingling with indignation.
“Very well, my lord. I teach Latin, Greek, French, Italian and German.” She counted them off on her fingers.
“I’m perfectly well versed in literature, philosophy and mathematics, but aside from a fondness for Greek mythology, I prefer the sciences.
I teach anatomy, chemistry, physics and astronomy, although I prefer the biological sciences.
Zoology and botany are particular favorites of mine. ”
“Botany? Bravo, Miss Templeton. You’re as knowledgeable as any Oxford don, then.”
Her teeth snapped together. “I never claimed to be anything of the sort, but neither have I exaggerated or embellished upon my qualifications. I have no need to.”
“Be that as it may, leafing through a few books in your family’s library hardly qualifies you to teach the sons of an earl botany, anatomy and animal husbandry. May I assume you’re self-taught, Miss Templeton?”
“I don’t care much for assumptions, Lord Hawke. I find they’re generally wrong.”
“I see. Then you’re not self-taught?”
“No, I’m not. My father taught me. Are you familiar with the name James Templeton, Lord Hawke?”
“James Templeton? It sounds vaguely familiar.”
“He was rather well known in Royal Society circles as one of London’s most brilliant scholars, particularly in the field of botany. James Templeton is—was—my father.”
“I can’t say I spend a great deal of my time in London with members of the Royal Society, Miss Templeton.”
She smothered a snort. That wasn’t difficult to believe.
Perhaps if she’d mentioned the name of one of London’s most celebrated Cyprians, then he might have had more luck.
“When my father was alive, he took it upon himself to educate me and my sisters. If you would have considered James Templeton a proper tutor for your sons, my lord, then you can have no quibble with me as their governess.”
“I’m merely enquiring, Miss Templeton. I never said I had any quibble with your—”
“Shall we catch up to the boys, Lord Hawke? They’ve just disappeared into the stables, and I prefer to be there when they’re near the animals.” She didn’t wait for an answer, but hurried off toward the stables, her head high.
He could follow her, or return to the castle on his own, just as he wished, but either way, she was quite finished answering Lord Hawke’s questions.
She was a reasonable person. A kind one, even, and not quick to anger, but as any of her sisters would attest, she could be unpleasant indeed when her temper was stirred.
And Lord Hawke was coming dangerously close to pushing her too far.