Chapter 21 #2
A shopkeeper stepped forward from his doorway. “Good morning, Your Grace. Mrs. Shaw.” His eyes lingered on her. “You seem to suit life at Roxburghe very well.”
Sarah’s breath caught. “Thank you,” she said, her tone polite and even.
The duke stood beside her, unaware of the slight change in her posture. “We are here for books,” he said. “And a few supplies.”
“Of course,” the shopkeeper replied. “Anything you need.”
Henry pulled Sarah toward the shelves. “Look, Mrs. Shaw. Latin stories.”
Sarah guided him gently. “Choose one you can read without complaint.”
Henry grinned. “I never complain.”
Clara wandered toward a small display of slates and chalk. “May I have pink chalk?”
Sarah nodded. “One piece.”
The duke watched them with a faint smile, but Sarah’s attention kept drifting to the people around them. A woman near the counter whispered to her companion. A man outside the door paused mid-step to look in. Another pair of shoppers glanced toward the duke, then toward her, and back again.
Henry held up a book he had been looking at for several minutes. “This one.”
Sarah took it from him, but her eyes flicked toward the window. “Yes,” she said quietly. “That will do.”
The duke stepped beside her, his voice low. “If it is your favorite shop, you should choose something.”
She looked at him, touched by the suggestion. “It would take too long for me to decide. Clara wants the ribbons, and Henry will want to see the animals near the green. I would keep everyone waiting.”
He accepted her answer with a gentle nod. “Then we will come another day, when we have as much time as we need.”
Sarah’s lips curved, soft and warm. “That would be nice.”
They visited two more shops. Clara chose a pink ribbon to match her chalk, and Henry spent time telling everyone what he knew about each animal they saw.
As they walked, the duke carried the parcels without comment. But everywhere they went, Sarah felt the same pattern. There were glances, pauses, and quiet murmurs that stopped when she looked up.
By the time they left the square, her steps had grown slower. The children chattered about their purchases, unaware of anything else. The duke walked beside her, calm and unaffected.
But she was eager to leave.
When they reached the estate gates, Sarah felt a wave of relief wash over here. The grounds were still, familiar, and private. She was thankful to be away from the watchful eyes of the ton.
Sarah gathered the children at the front steps. “You may both go to the schoolroom now,” she said. “We will look at Henry’s new book.”
Henry ran ahead excitedly, clutching the Latin primer he had chosen in town. Clara followed more slowly, still admiring the pink chalk she had been allowed to buy.
Inside the schoolroom, Henry placed the book on the table with great ceremony. “I want to start at the beginning,” he said.
Sarah sat beside him. “Then we will start at the beginning.”
Clara climbed into her chair, resting her chin on her hands as Henry opened the first page. They spent the next two hours working through simple passages.
Henry read aloud, stopping often to ask questions. Sarah guided him patiently, pointing out endings and declensions, correcting him only when necessary. Clara practiced her letters with the chalk, occasionally leaning over to listen to Henry’s reading.
By early afternoon, Henry closed the book with a satisfied sigh. “I can read more tomorrow.”
“You can,” Sarah said. “But now we should go outside.”
Clara brightened. “What will we do?”
“We will make crowns,” Sarah said. “I will show you how to begin.”
Clara’s smile widened. Henry straightened with interest. “I want to make one too.”
“You will,” Sarah said. “Come along.”
They walked to the lower orchard, where the grass grew long and dotted with small wildflowers. Sarah knelt and gathered a handful of stems. “You must choose ones with long stalks,” she said. “They bend more easily.”
Henry crouched beside her. “Like these?”
“Yes,” Sarah said. “Now watch.”
She showed them how to braid the stems together, crossing one over the other until the flowers formed a small circle. Clara tried, her fingers clumsy but determined. Henry worked more slowly, concentrating with great seriousness.
Clara finished first. “Mama, look.”
Sarah examined the crown. “It is lovely,” she said.
Clara placed it on her mother’s head and Sarah laughed.
Henry held up his own crown. “Papa,” he called, “you must wear mine.”
Sarah looked up from Henry’s crown and froze for a moment. She had not realized the duke was sitting on the small bench near the orchard, half-hidden by the branches. He was watching them with a calm expression, his posture relaxed, as though he had been there for some time.
“Your Grace,” Sarah said softly, surprised. “I did not see you join us.”
He gave a slight nod. “I did not wish to interrupt.”
Sarah stood, brushing a bit of grass from her skirt, and walked toward him. The bench was narrow, but she sat beside him, leaving a polite amount of space.
Henry held up his crown again. “Papa, will you? Will you wear mine? You must!”
The duke raised an eyebrow. “Must I?”
Henry nodded with complete seriousness. “Yes. I made it.”
Sarah took the crown from Henry’s hands and turned back to the duke. “He did,” she said, her voice warm. She lifted the crown and placed it gently on his head.
Her laughter broke free, bright and genuine. The duke looked at her, the crooked crown still in place, and for a brief moment neither of them seemed aware of anyone else.
Clara giggled and Henry grinned, and the entire orchard felt still around them.
A flash of movement caught Sarah’s eye. She looked up and saw Lady Arabella standing at the edge of the path, half-hidden by the branches. Her posture was straight, her hands clasped lightly in front of her, and her expression composed but strained.
The duke turned slightly at the same moment, noticing her. Sarah rose from the bench, the flower crown still crooked on His Grace’s head.
Lady Arabella gave a small nod. “I did not mean to intrude.”
Sarah stepped forward. “Good afternoon, Lady Arabella.”
Lady Arabella’s eyes flicked from Sarah to the duke, then to the children weaving flowers in the grass. “I only wished to see how the afternoon progressed,” she said quietly. “I will not disturb you.”
Her voice remained polite, but the discomfort in her eyes was unmistakable. She nodded her head once more and turned back toward the house, her head dropping some as she walked away.