It’d been a week. The days had passed slowly. Agonizingly slowly.
Not that Eliza didn’t enjoy her time with Deveric’s son. She did; Freddy was an inquisitive, clever young boy who loved peppering her with questions about Virginia and the world. His winsome grin and enthusiasm for life wormed their way into her heart in no time. In spite of his initial distrust, he warmed to her rapidly, his eyes lighting up whenever she came to see him. If only his father were so easy to win over. She couldn’t exactly forge a relationship with someone who wasn’t there.
Every day, Freddy gained strength, though he still rested each afternoon, a concession Eliza had made to Nurse Pritchett. She and the nurse hadn’t exactly mended fences, but they weren’t openly antagonistic to one another, either. Eliza suspected Nurse Pritchett enjoyed having some time off.
When Freddy rested, Eliza had time to herself. Occasionally, she walked in the gardens with Amara, or discussed books with Grace, or listened to Emmeline plan for the upcoming London Season—the one Deveric’s mother made quite clear Eliza wouldn’t attend. Even the dowager, however, grew less hostile in her interactions as the week went on, evidently satisfied with Eliza’s efforts with her grandson.
In the late afternoons, Eliza and Freddy visited the pups. It quickly became her favorite time of day, not only because she herself loved dogs and delighted in seeing Freddy so happy with them, but because she and Mr. Sayers conversed on a number of topics. Eliza learned much about the care of hunting dogs, of horses, of local villages and the pattern of days, and seasons. If he was surprised at her lack of knowledge, he never showed it, never talked down to her, but treated her rather as a friend.
Occasionally, Eliza wondered if something more sparked in his eye. He wasn’t an unpleasant man to look at, his face weathered from years of outdoor work, but his eyes a pleasing gray, and his chin strong and square.
Too bad she felt nothing in return. Her heart already belonged to Deveric. She missed his intelligence, his teasing wit, even his rather stoic demeanor, such a contrast to her own exuberant and expressive nature. She missed the nearly tangible current that flowed between them whenever they were in the same room, missed the butterflies of anticipation and nervousness that fluttered in her stomach whenever he was near.
Frederick sometimes told her stories of things he’d done with his father, such as when Deveric had let Freddy ride on the front of Lightning with him, or showed him the fish swimming in the nearby lake, or read stories to him before bed. The wistful tone in the little boy’s voice told Eliza he missed his dad as much as she did.
Where was Deveric? It had been a week. Was he coming back? Or was he merely waiting for his family to join him in London? Amara said they were traveling there in a week’s time, after all. Without her.
Uh, Cat? What went wrong? How is this conducive to building a relationship? Are we betting on an ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ deal?
She just wanted him to come home.
“Pirate’s doing well, isn’t he, Eliza?” Freddy pointed to the pup, which had grown at such a rate he was nearly the size of his brothers and sisters. Eliza suspected Mr. Sayers must have been taking extra measures to help the small dog.
“He is. Much like you, don’t you think?”
Freddy grinned. “I do feel ever so much better!”
“A little love goes a long way.” Goodness, had she said that out loud? Frederick didn’t notice; he’d already sprawled on the ground so that the dogs could lick him, but Mr. Sayers tipped his head to her, a knowing look in his eye.
She’d grown so fond of the boy in just a week. It surprised her, this depth of feeling. She’d babysat often as a teenager, but that was for money, not because she liked kids. She adored little Freddy, however.
She bit her lip, worrying at it with her teeth. His father should be here, should be witnessing his son’s transformation, his zest for everything around him. A boy needed his dad. “Deveric should be here,” she blurted out.
The hounds master raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Did he disagree? Or was it because she’d called Claremont Deveric again?
“Don’t you think a boy needs male attention?”
The older man shrugged. “He has you. Me. Nurse Pritchett. And the sisters sometimes entertain him. I saw Emmeline spinning a hoop with him on the grounds just yesterday.”
“Well, yes, they do, but it’s not the same. Children need their parents.”
She’d needed hers. Wanted hers. They hadn’t been unloving, her mom and dad, just always busy. Dad’s work as a management consultant had him traveling all the time for business, and Mom, as a school principal, had constantly been in meetings, dousing one fire or another. Not much time had been left over for Eliza.
If and when she had kids, she’d sworn it would be different.
“Did De—His Grace get along well with his father?” She’d asked a similar question a week ago and he’d shot her down.
This time, however, Mr. Sayers sighed before admitting, “His Grace showed little interest in him. According to Mrs. Wiggins, he only cared whether or not his son behaved in ways befitting his station. The old duke had strong ideas about those behaviors.”
Mrs. Wiggins was the housekeeper. Eliza hadn’t spoken with her much, but the woman had never been less than polite, and Betsy said she treated the housemaids with respect. Good enough in Eliza’s book.
The hounds master cleared his throat. “When His Grace decided he preferred London to Clarehaven, we were not displeased. The dowager seemed happier to remain here without her husband, as well. She could turn more of a blind eye to his ... indiscretions that way.”
Dowager Dragon or not, no woman deserved a husband who treated her like that. Unexpected sympathy flooded her for Deveric’s mother.
Eliza studied Freddy, with his mop of auburn hair and darling square chin, trying to picture Deveric at that age. She thought of the knuckle-rapping Nurse Pritchett had given him, how it had not fazed the boy. “Did the previous duke beat his children?” She clapped her hand over her mouth, not believing she’d asked that question.
Mr. Sayers’ eyes clouded. “Lord Chance bore the brunt of his ire often, yes. I do not know about the current duke. At least the old duke left his daughters alone. I’m grateful for Lady Amara’s sake, though, that he was not alive when ...” He stopped talking.
“Yes, I know about that,” Eliza said. “Hardly her fault, and completely unfair that she should suffer so much because some jerk took advantage of her.”
“Jerk?”
“An American expression. Basically a man without honor.”
“A fitting word, then.”
She walked over to check on Freddy, who’d grown quiet as he leaned against the side of the stone wall to watch the puppies. “Why, he’s asleep!” she said, her cheeks crinkling in amusement.
“He is still recovering. Perhaps he shouldn’t be outside for so long.”
“Or perhaps this is exactly what he needs. Being cooped up in that nursery all day with Nurse Pritchett can’t be good for anyone’s health.”
“No, indeed,” the hounds master said, a slight smile escaping him.
“What did Lord Chance do to displease his father so often?” She was being extra nosy, but she couldn’t imagine that charming scamp ever being a true problem. He certainly didn’t show any ill effects, as far as she could see.
“I don’t know that it was anything he did. I think it was his mere existence.”
Eliza cocked her head at him. “How do you mean?”
He shifted on his feet, tugging on the brim of his hat. “His Grace was convinced Chance was not his son.”
“What?”
“He never publicly accused her. Thank goodness. Chance was born seven months after the last time His Grace had visited Clarehaven. The duke had been gone before that for another five. Although Her Grace insisted Chance came early, His Grace had his doubts. Mrs. Wiggins overheard him demand the boy be named Chance because there was only a chance he was Claremont’s.”
“That’s awful!” Eliza exclaimed. “Although do you think? The dowager?” Eliza couldn’t imagine the woman indulging in passion with anyone, much less two different people.
“No. I don’t. I was here, a young man at the time. It was an unexpected and messy birth. Both the dowager duchess and Chance almost died. He was exceptionally tiny. An exact image of the duke, though.”
Eliza mulled that over. Emmeline, Grace, and Becca were all younger than Chance. The dowager had taken the reprobate back into her bed?
Mr. Sayers shuffled his feet, his mouth twisting down. “I have said too much. You make one feel ... at ease in your presence, Mrs. James.” His voice softened as he said those words.
Eliza avoided his eyes. She didn’t want to encourage tender feelings on his part, but she was desperate for information. Asking his sisters didn’t feel right, and she didn’t want to put Betsy in an awkward position. Guilt tugged at her conscience.
Accused of infidelity by her husband and then her daughter’s seduction made public? No wonder the Dragon adhered so rigidly to social etiquette, determined to never let scandal shadow the family name again.
What could be more scandalous than an unpolished, untitled American widow after her son? Not to mention the time-traveler part—not, of course, that Eliza would ever reveal that. I haven’t got a shot with her.
Eliza’s shoulders fell. What had she gotten herself into?
The mama dog yelped as a puppy bit her ear, and Freddy stirred.
“I should get Frederick back to the house.”
Mr. Sayers pulled at his collar. “I should not have shared so much.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Sayers. I will hold everything in strictest confidence. I would not dishonor our friendship.” She emphasized the last word, hoping he’d get the message.
He touched his fingers to the edge of his hat, giving a grateful dip of his head.
Freddy yawned and stood up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“I think this has been enough of a lesson for one day,” Eliza said. “You look like you need a nap.”
“I’ve just had one!” Frederick protested as he stumbled sleepily toward the door. “Please take care of Pirate, Mr. Sayers. I want him to live.”
“I’ll do my best, lad,” the older man responded with an affectionate glance. “I want him to live, too.”
With the way the hounds master’s eyes trailed after the young boy, Eliza had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t referring to the pup.