Page 26 of The Duke Who Loved a Widow
“I wanted to wait for you and find out how the little boy was doing,” he explained.
“He’s fine. He listened to a story about one of the knights of the round table. He loves pretending to be King Arthur with his sword, Excalibur. He fell asleep very quickly. He usually does.”
“It’s happened before?” he said, with intent interest.
“Every few nights, but only since his father died, and there has been a definite reduction in recent months,” she shared. “He heard two of the maids talking, saying he might be taken away from me to live with his other guardian, my late husband’s cousin, Mr Christopher Farrington.”
“He sounds like a despicable character,” said Robert.
She paused, unsure how much to disclose. Her strongest desire was for a new start here, including open honesty about her life and the complicated legal challenge to her guardianship of her son.
“He won’t succeed. His claims have no foundation, and Uncle Joseph will support me in fighting the legal case.”
“If he has taken the guardianship to court, then he is either a fool or after control of your son’s inheritance.”
“I suspect he is both a fool and under financial pressure,” she told the duke, certain that this was the case.
“You’re strong and have Sir Joseph’s support. Even if he files a case, it will take many years to work through the courts,” he reassured her.
“That’s what I tell myself,” she confided. “But sometimes I feel cold, icy fear at any possibility of losing my son.”
“He’s a brave little chap. You must be very proud of him,” said the duke, surprising her, as she had assumed he thought Henry a wilful, disobedient child.
“The bravest boy. I just hope he can have joy and happiness here at Horton Hall.”
“We’ll make sure he does,” promised Robert. “Henry must have fun here.”
And to think I thought this man might tell Christopher about Henry’s escapades and my inability to control my own child. I was so very wrong.
“We ought to return to the drawing room,” she told him, changing the subject. I wonder who is singing with such a beautiful, melodious voice?”
“Ah, I can solve that mystery immediately,” he told her conspiratorially. “It’s my sister Elinor.”
“It’s sublime singing,” she mused. “She is very talented.”
They waited for a pause and applause before rejoining the others in the drawing room.
Standing close together, just inside the doorway, they listened to Nathaniel and Emma sing a duet. Their voices seemed to echo around the room, reaching the high vaulted ceiling before falling to the ground again.
As the duet reached a crescendo, Arabella felt the duke’s warm and close breath almost touching the back of her neck. The sensation was stronger than anything else in the room; she wanted to relax backwards and be cocooned in his arms.
This won’t do. I’m behaving like a young lady in her first season in town. I’m a widow and a mother. I need to push theseintense feelings aside. She moved a little to the side, distancing herself from the duke.
Looking across the room at Emma, she noticed how her face lit up when she smiled at Nathaniel. Her cousin was entranced and falling in love. The two voices complemented each other perfectly, singing in harmony, delighting their audience with the traditional Ash Grove song.
“Down yonder green valley, where streamlets meander,
When twilight is fading I pensively rove,
Or at the bright noontide in solitude wander
Amid the dark shades of the lonely ash grove.”
She knew this beautiful song well and loved the poetry. By focusing intently on the words, she almost succeeded in distracting herself from the disconcerting sensations created by the closeness of the Duke of Montbury.
Chapter 11
Darkness fell at Farrington Hall. The house seemed shrouded in a cold, dismal mist that had not lifted for several days. The house staff did their best to light all the fires, but nothing warmed the house.
