Be not overly righteous, and do not make yourself too wise. Why should you destroy yourself?
Ecclesiastes 7:16
A light dusting of snow had fallen the night before, coating the terrace outside Warwyk Hall’s breakfast room. Everything seemed to glitter as the sun threatened to appear and melt the sparkles. It mimicked Avalon’s mood completely. For the moment, her happiness had brightened with Thane to her left and Sophia to her right as they shared breakfast. It was a common ritual, one that Avalon looked forward to every morning.
“Maman?” Thane’s soft question broke her reverie.
Avalon leaned close. “Yes, darling?”
“Mr. Waller’s dog whelped four puppies yesterday. He said I could have one if you’d allow it.” Thane slowly blinked. “My birthday is next month.”
He brushed a long dark curl away from his eyes. His hair had seemed to grow overnight, just like the rest of his body. Thankfully, he took after the Cavensham side of the family with hair as dark as night and deep blue eyes.
“Avalon, I think it a marvelous idea.” Sophia turned to Thane. “What would you name it?”
“Simon. Mr. Waller says he’ll keep a male for me.” Thane’s soulful eyes captured her gaze. “Simon’s white with liver spots. Mr. Waller says he’ll be a fine hunter and water spaniel.”
How could she refuse such a request? Thane had no one close in age to play with, and the idea of his own dog meant that he’d learn how to be responsible for someone besides himself.
“Would you care for it? You’d have to feed Simon. You’d have to take him outside. Make certain he’d receive lots of love, attention, and exercise. Even in March, it’ll still be cold and rainy.” Avalon poured herself another cup of tea. “You’d have to train him. I can’t have a dog running amok through the house.”
Thane scooted to the edge of his seat. “I promise.” He crossed his heart with his right index finger. “You have my word as a”—he stared at the table as if summoning his most persuasive argument—“marquess.” He nodded once as if that one word made it an unbreakable contract.
“A very sound argument for your mother’s consent, my lord.” A deep baritone broke the quiet.
Thane and Sophia whipped their gazes toward the door. Avalon didn’t have to look as she would recognize the vicar’s voice anywhere.
“Then it looks like Simon will be part of the household,” Thane announced. Before Mr. Neville, her butler, could announce the intruder, Avalon’s son did the honors. “You must be the new vicar. Are you here for my lesson?”
“Thane,” Avalon gently chided. “Allow Mr. Neville to properly announce our visitor.” Which was a nice way, if she did say so herself, of introducing the interloper.
“If I may, my lady, Mr. Farris has come calling.” The butler beamed at the vicar, much to her dismay.
Thane stood and placed his serviette to the right of his plate. “Please come in, Mr. Farris.” His gaze shot to Avalon’s for approval.
She nodded in response and smiled at her son. He would soon be accustomed to answering to Warwyk instead of Thane. Some days she wanted to stop all the clocks in the house to see if she could hold on to his childhood a little longer. While he desperately wanted to become a man, she just as greatly wanted to hold him in her arms again.
“Mr. Neville, would you ask the footman to bring another place setting?” Avalon asked politely. “We weren’t expecting company, but company has found us.” Hopefully, the man understood that she meant unwanted company.
His lips tilted in a sly grin. He reminded her of a fox about to pounce on an innocent rabbit. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if he licked those perfect lips as if salivating for the kill.
He bowed his head briefly in her direction as if acknowledging her barb, then turned to Mr. Neville. “If it wouldn’t be an inconvenience, I’ll just take coffee. I’ve already broken my fast at the vicarage.”
“I’ll bring it myself, then.” Mr. Neville bowed his head, then headed quickly out the door.
Mr. Farris rounded the table to Sophia’s side. His dark gaze captured Avalon’s and he arched a single eyebrow as if baiting her—daring her not to introduce her sister to him.
Before Avalon could start the introduction, Sophia stood, then dipped a deep curtsey. “We’ve already met. Mr. Farris, it’s so wonderful you’ve come to visit today.”
In answer, he sketched an elegant but subdued bow. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Sophia blushed prettily.
The vicar rounded the table, ignoring Avalon, and approached Thane. “You must be Lord Warwyk.”
At the sound of the name Warwyk, Thane puffed his chest out a little. “I’m happy to meet you, Mr. Farris. I’m anxious to start my lessons.”
Avalon’s eyes widened at his statement. Thane hated his lessons, particularly anything having to do with Latin. The man would naturally have to charm her son also. Wasn’t anybody besides herself immune to his allure and beguiling manners?
She took a deep and steadying breath. She’d not allow him to rile her today. His business this morning would hopefully be brief so she could proceed with her day as she’d planned. After breakfast, she had wanted to visit Annie and see how she was faring. When Avalon had visited her two days ago, she seemed tired and still in the depths of deep grief.
Mr. Neville arrived personally with a tray bearing a cup, saucer, and coffeepot. He efficiently set a place beside Thane, then bowed to the vicar as if he were the newly arrived sun-king. Which was an appropriate analogy as the sun decided in that moment to appear in its full glory as if it too were mesmerized by the handsome Mr. Farris.
“Thank you, Mr. Neville,” the vicar acknowledged. As he sat, the butler poured him a cup of the black brew, then fussed with the offerings of cream and sugar, both of which Mr. Farris politely refused.
After Mr. Neville’s performance was finished and he swept from the room, Mr. Farris turned his full attention to Thane. “I’m ready to start our tutorials, my lord. I thought today you could show me your study area and your books. I’ve brought some of my texts to see if I can supplement what you already have.”
Thane’s eyes grew wide, and to Avalon’s chagrin, he nodded a bit too eagerly. “I’d like that, Mr. Farris.”
“Excellent.” The vicar smiled in answer.
It wasn’t a patronizing smile but one that bespoke enthusiasm for the task set before him. Immediately, Avalon’s senses went on alert. Why would a sophisticated man of the world like Mr. Farris be excited with the task of tutoring her son?
Rumors from The Midnight Cryer swirled around him like bees pollinating flowers. There was always a hint of the forbidden about him. Murmurings that he loved to lavish attention on women, and in return, gloried in their return affections. She’d even heard that he’d had numerous lovers. But the simple fact that he was a man of the cloth made him deserve their respect—though grudgingly on her part—until he proved otherwise.
Still, she had no doubt that he’d had experience with women. Didn’t all men?
Her heart tripped in her chest as if acknowledging all she’d missed in her life. Marriage to a loving husband, intimacy from a simple touch, pleasure from a fond kiss—she silently sighed—a partnership only found from a husband who shared one’s goals.
Such musings were a waste of time. She had everything she needed and wanted in her little corner of the world. She didn’t need a man, nor did she need a certain vicar to complicate her life any more than he already had.
“Would you like to start now?” Thane pushed away from his chair with such exuberance that it threatened to fall over.
Not taken aback at her son’s enthusiasm, Mr. Farris settled the chair on all four feet, then elegantly rose from the table. “Lord Warwyk, please lead the way.”
Sophia also rose from the table. “Avalon, if you’ll excuse me, also. I have several letters to write. Several of my friends from Lady Diane’s Finishing School are making their introduction to society next Season. It will be lovely to see them all again.”
Avalon also stood as the others prepared to leave. “Mr. Farris, shall I escort you both to Thane’s nursery?”
He turned and regarded her with a lifted brow as if challenging her. “Thank you, but no, my lady. That won’t be necessary. We are not going to the nursery. Instead, Lord Warwyk will take me to his schoolroom.”
Thane, the Marquess of Warwyk, sheepishly opened his nursery room door on the west wing of the third floor, then entered, keeping his head buried in his chest the entire time. When Devan strolled through the doorway, he immediately saw what would cause the young lord’s embarrassment.
The room was exquisitely appointed but decorated more for the tastes of a two-or three-year-old and not a young boy of ten. Rocking horses, building blocks, along with books and a couple of dolls lay neatly arranged as if on a permanent hiatus in a mausoleum. However, someone had touched them in the near past as there was a complete absence of dust on the furnishings.
On the floor, a set of tin infantrymen and their mighty steeds were the only indication of play in the room. Devan ignored the rest of the room and knelt beside the army of soldiers. “This is quite a formation. What is it?”
The boy dropped to his knees beside Devan. “It’s the square formations that Wellington used at La Haye Sainte. Napoleon’s army kept attacking in waves, and Wellington was forced to retreat when our army ran out of ammunition.” He tilted his head and caught Devan’s gaze. The seriousness in his expression was rare for a young man his age. “I’m studying it in hopes to discover a way to keep the British from losing so many men.”
Devan picked up one of the tin soldiers painted in the British redcoats dress. Carefully, he examined the metal piece. The soldier’s expression was one of determination. How many of the loyal British army had worn that same expression while dying on the field? It had been Devan’s most ardent wish to join them in the army, but Larkton had refused, saying he couldn’t afford to buy Devan a commission along with other excuses.
With care so as not to ruin the formation, he replaced the soldier in the line with the others. “That’s amazing, my lord. Not many boys your age would study such strategies. You’re quite the tactician.”
“Would you call me Thane?” The boy’s soft voice didn’t hide the yearning.
“Of course.” Devan grinned, then stood. “Thane, would you be kind enough to show me the rest of the schoolroom?”
The boy jumped to his feet, and with a wave of his hand, Devan invited the boy to proceed. Quickly, Thane showed Devan his books, papers, chalkboard, and even his previous Latin exercises.
Devan could only come to one conclusion. The boy had never been challenged by his previous tutor. His texts were ideally suited for children far younger than Thane. He needed an entire new library in order to be prepared for the academic rigors of Eton.
They sat at a small table set in front of a warm fire. Devan gave him several simple assignments in conjugating Latin verbs. Only missing a couple, Thane proved to be a willing and serious student.
Devan quizzed him on mathematics and history. Thane answered each question quickly and thoughtfully, once again proving that he had a strong grasp of his subjects. He only needed guidance and instruction from a tutor who would test and challenge his abilities.
After finishing his last assignment, Thane looked at Devan a little sheepishly. “Mr. Farris, I was wondering something.”
“What might that be?”
“How long do you think you’ll be assigned to the parish?” The boy sniffed, then rubbed his nose across his jacket sleeve.
“As long as the church and the parish see fit. Hopefully, I’ll be here until I retire.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handkerchief. He gave it to the boy, then walked to the far bookcase to study the titles contained within the literature section.
“Are you married?” Thane asked. He studied his paper in a not-so-subtle act of nonchalance.
Devan stopped his study, then turned his attention to Thane. “No. Are you?”
The boy giggled. “Of course not. I’m only ten.”
“I suppose you’ll need to wait awhile.” Devan grinned. “Why do you ask?”
The boy shrugged his shoulders, then started doodling on the paper before him. “I’m just curious. Do you want to marry?”
“I do someday. When the right woman comes along.” Immediately, his parents popped into Devan’s thoughts. “My mother and father were deeply in love, and their marriage was a true gift to my siblings and me. They taught me so much.”
Thane blinked slowly. “Like scripture?”
As one side of his mouth tugged upward, Devan debated whether to proceed or change the subject.
“Please tell me,” the young lord said. “There aren’t many who share important things with me.”
Lord Warwyk had to be lonely. Devan hadn’t met any boys the young lord’s age yet. “My parents gave me a wise piece of advice that I’ve followed. They told me to wait for my heart’s true match, and so I am.”
How surprising that he was sharing more of himself with a boy whom he’d just met hours ago than he’d ever shared with any of his friends or family. However, he’d not share all of his secrets, particularly the one that would cause his friends to reel in laughter if they ever discovered the truth.
It was something he’d only share with his wife: He was a virgin and would stay that way until he found that one true love, the woman he wanted to share the rest of his life with.
“Maybe that’s what my mother wants.” Thane looked up from his papers and captured Devan’s gaze. “Maybe she’s waiting for her one true love also. I don’t think she loved my father.”
“Why would you say that?” Devan asked softly.
“She never talks about him.” The boy blinked slowly. “I always have to ask about him.”
Devan’s gut tightened. “Does your mother answer your questions?”
Thane straightened in his chair. “Indeed. She tells me that he was a man who protected his loved ones and ensured that our tenants and lands were well cared for. She says that my father loved me.”
The fact that the marchioness protected her son’s image of his father, a man she despised, surprised him. It had to be an incredible feat not to tell the boy the truth about his father. “Would you like for your mother to marry?”
He nodded briefly, as if answering aloud would be forbidden. “Don’t tell my mother because I wouldn’t want her to worry. But I’d like to have a father. I’d like to have brothers and even sisters, too.”
Devan smiled slightly. “Anything you say to me stays confidential. That’s what vicars are known for. We keep secrets.” He made a fist and placed it over his heart. “Anything you tell me stays here. I may share with God in my prayers, but it’ll go no further.”
Thane examined him as if deciding what type of man stood before him. After an intense moment, he must have reached a decision of some sort, then nodded. “Thank you. Though I have Aunt Sophia and Maman, sometimes I’m lonely. It’ll be nice having you here.”
Devan let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding while allowing Thane to study him. He wanted the boy’s approval. Thane Warwyk possessed a kind spirit, and he yearned for more. Something deep inside Devan’s heart made him want to help the boy attain his happiness.
“Do you have any friends close to Warwyk Hall?” Devan asked.
“Not many.” His gaze shifted from his papers to Devan. “There aren’t many boys my age around here. Except for the Wessex twins. They’re fifteen years old.”
“Who are they?”
“They’re my friends and the sons of one of my tenant farmers.” Thane continued, “They take me fishing when they have a day off from working the fields. Would you like to come with us some time?”
“It’d be my pleasure.”
Thane smiled and nodded his approval.
So, Lady Warlock allowed her son to mingle with the estate’s tenants. As much as Devan didn’t want to, he’d give her a proverbial nod of approval. The young lord’s friendship with the Wessex twins will ensure they have a reason to stay at Warwyk Hall and help their families.
Devan drew his eyebrows together. But it was more. The marchioness’s support and friendship with the women making a new life in the village was a perfect example for her son and how he should treat those who relied upon him. A perfect example of respect between the classes and how we’re all the same in God’s eyes.
“Do you have any interest in going to Eton?” Devan asked.
Thane’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “Oh yes, Mr. Farris. Maman doesn’t want me to go. She says she needs me here, but I’d like to meet other fellows my age.”
“Excellent, my lord. Then you and I shall start on your lessons immediately so you’re ready to attend that noble institution when you and your mother come to an agreement.” Devan leaned until he and the marquess were eye level. “But you’re going to have to work hard. Are you ready to do that?”
The boy nodded vigorously.
In a couple of days, Devan would meet with the marchioness and discuss his thoughts. Her son should not go to Eton. At least not until Devan had the boy ready to face the mass of privileged and spoiled children who attended the prestigious institution.
Otherwise, the Marquess of Warwyk might be decimated by the bullies who resided in its hallowed halls within a week.
He couldn’t wait to see Lady Warlock’s flabbergasted expression when he told her his conclusions.
He would tell the Marchioness of Warwyk that, for once, he was in complete agreement with her.