Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Ryland entered the breakfast room, surprised to find Edmund waiting for him, sitting alone at the round table, his short legs swinging from the seat. Ryland took the chair beside his son and reached across the table to pile ham on his plate. The lad didn't tend to join Ryland in the breakfast room until Ryland had nearly finished eating. "Did you wake early today?"

"I had a bad dream," Edmund said, chewing on his egg. He looked up, his eyes tracing the items on the table. "Miss Beswick would love this room."

"Would she?" Ryland asked, his body tightening. He'd regretted his impulse to ask her to meet with him weekly. He was interested in the reports she could provide, but something about the standing appointments felt different to him—or perhaps it was the way he'd been looking forward to the meeting that sent off a warning in his chest. He could not help but ask himself if he would have made the same offer had she been an old woman and not carrying the haze of loneliness about her.

Yes. He would have. He needed to believe that. The weekly reports had nothing to do with Miss Beswick—aside from assessing her competence as Edmund's educator—and everything to do with Ryland's son.

"What was the nature of your dream?" he asked, not allowing the subject to be changed so swiftly.

Edmund shrugged. "I do not wish to speak about it."

Well, that was concerning. To Ryland's knowledge, Edmund hadn't struggled with bad dreams in at least two years, but there was a period of time when he was crawling into Ryland's bed nearly every night in search of comfort.

"Are you going to watch Mr. Harding's race?" Edmund asked.

Ryland nearly choked on his ham. He coughed, patting his mouth with a napkin. "Who the devil told you about that?"

"The grooms were talking about it yesterday."

"They ought to know better than to do so around an impressionable young boy."

"They didn't know I was there, Papa. I snuck in to give Biscuit an apple."

Ryland bit back a smile, feeling equal parts exasperated and entertained. He leaned forward, holding Edmund's gaze. " You know better than to sneak. A good man has nothing to hide."

Edmund's face grew sheepish. "Yes, Papa." He toyed with the edge of the plate before looking up at Ryland again, his eyes pinning him from the side. "But can I attend the race with you? It would be such a lark to watch Mr. Harding."

What sort of example would he be making for his son if he was to take him to a country race? Or perhaps it would be an opportunity to teach Edmund about safety.

He was likely creating reasons now to make it acceptable. It was moments like this when he missed Jane the most. She would undoubtedly have a strong opinion regarding her son and this particular race, but Ryland couldn't, for the life of him, discern what it would be. He was the only parent Edmund had, and he was likely mucking it all up.

He needed a second opinion. The governess's, perhaps. It was her job to help guide Edmund, was it not? This fell under her jurisdiction.

"I will consider it," Ryland finally said. After he discussed the matter with Aurelia, of course.

Edmund gave a little squeal that betrayed exactly how young he was before digging into his egg again.

Ryland pushed a slice of ham over on his plate, eyeing his son. "How do you like your lessons, Edmund?"

"I do not have lessons today, do I?" he asked, tilting his small head to the side with suspicion.

"Not today, no. We never have lessons on Sundays. I only wanted to know if you feel you are learning from Miss Beswick?"

"Yes. Do you want to see the Greek alphabet? I know four letters now."

"You may show me later. Is Miss Beswick a good teacher?"

His eyes widened. "The best teacher I've ever had."

The only teacher Edmund had ever had.

"Can we invite her to eat dinner with us?" Edmund asked, taking him by surprise. "She eats alone, and I think it would be nice to ask her to eat with us."

Ryland grew still, carefully chewing over the responses he could make. Without proper wording, Edmund could somehow repeat to Aurelia that she was not wanted. Young children had a veritable knack for turning harmless thoughts into insults.

"Would you like to ride this morning?" he finally asked instead. Sometimes his best defense was redirection.

Edmund popped out of his chair. "Yes! I will fetch my boots straight away." He paused. "Will you help me put them on? Nurse is rough?—"

"Yes, yes. I will help. Run and fetch your boots."

A wide grin slashed across Edmund's face, pushing his freckled cheeks into rounded apples. He hurried toward the door, talking as he went. "I was going to ask if I could go to church with Miss Beswick, but this is much better."

Edmund's words trailed off as he disappeared, leaving an ache in Ryland's stomach. If Jane had been alive, the lad would have attended every week. But now? Now Ryland cared far less for Society's watchful eye than he did about ensuring his son was receiving a proper religious education. He was shirking his duties. There was no pleasant way to state it. The cold truth slithered through his chest, chasing away his appetite.

Ryland put his napkin on the table and pushed his chair away. He would consider taking Edmund to a race, but not to church? It hardly mattered that he had reasons—they were thin. No, he did not relish the idea of returning to the congregation who so pitied him and his poor, motherless child, but he knew he ought to go. If he could return to Society functions and attend races, he had no reason to avoid church.

Mother, for one, would be thrilled to see him there. It just all felt too…much. Too many people. Too many judgments.

Ryland shook his head, leaving the morning room. He was failing in every way. It was better not to think about it for too long. He was moving toward the stairs to change into his riding boots when motion in front of the house caught his attention.

Aurelia walked across the gravel drive beside Tilly, a small smile over her face as she listened to the maid recount something to her. Ryland froze in place, standing at the window and staring at the governess. He'd yet to see her smile like that, her face relaxed and her eyes bright. She was arresting in her beauty, but that was not what struck him.

No, it was her likeness to Nathaniel Beswick that caught his eye.

Surely it meant nothing—a cousin, perhaps? A relative of her father's? She had said she was alone, that her family was in Ireland. As far as Ryland was aware, Nathaniel hadn't claimed any family in Ireland. Not that he knew the man well, nor cared at all for his current situation.

Ryland stood at the window, watching the servants climb into the wagon and drive off to church. He'd used the wagon once on a group outing to the local Dunder Hill lookout. It had been the first time he'd introduced his new wife to many of his local friends. It had been the moment she felt she could remain at Tilton forever, too.

He only knew this because of the diary she had left behind. The entry about that day had seared itself in his mind. Jane had been happy. She had enjoyed his friends and felt she could find her own, that she could make this her home. Reading it after she died had given him an acute sense of longing for her and anger that he'd never again hear her laugh.

Ryland shook away the hazy memories of that picnic on Dunder Hill and the diary that had so blissfully captured their short married years. He heard the patter of Edmund's feet on the staircase and turned a bright smile on his son, the one piece of Jane left to him.

Edmund's blonde curls bounced as he raced down the stairs, boots in hand.

Ryland mussed the curls and bent to fasten his son's boots, grateful for the distraction. He would worry about church and all the ways he was letting Jane down another time.

For what had appeared to be such a small town, attendance at church was robust. Tilly sat snug at Aurelia's side, fitting nearly all the Tilton servants together on one bench near the back of the congregation. The vicar was lively about the gospel he shared, his smile authentic. It was the sort of church service that left Aurelia feeling rejuvenated, giving her the niggling impression she could find happiness in this town.

When the service ended, she followed Tilly and the rest of Tilton's servants outside into the sunlight. Cold wind bit at their exposed skin, the autumn weather making a swift, sudden arrival. The air was clean and crisp, the smell of leaves changing and moisture sticking to the lawn.

"Miss Beswick!" Ruth called, her hand up in a gesture that asked Aurelia to wait for her. She drew a dark-haired woman beside her, their arms linked. The comfortable way they walked together proved they were close friends. "I want you to meet the kindest person in Harewood, my friend Eliza Rose."

"Ridley," the woman said. "Eliza Ridley . Someday you will remember I am married now."

"Force of habit."

Mrs. Ridley turned a pretty smile on Aurelia. "You are Edmund's new governess, I heard. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Beswick."

Aurelia dipped in a curtsy. "And you as well, Mrs. Ridley."

Mrs. Ridley beamed. "My husband—" She glanced over her shoulder, searching the gathered parishioners. "He is somewhere nearby, likely thanking Mr. Chatham for the sermon."

"Mr. Ridley is our blacksmith," Ruth said. "And very talented, if you have need of one."

Aurelia swallowed her surprise. She glanced at Mrs. Ridley's gown, noting the style and fabric. Her hair was impeccable, her bearing that of a lady. She did not present herself as a blacksmith's wife, and she was clearly good friends with Ruth. It was all very unusual.

Mrs. Ridley nodded to someone in the distance. "My mother appears as though she'd like a word. I will speak to you later." She smiled at Aurelia. "It was lovely to meet you. I hope to see you again soon."

Aurelia nodded, watching Mrs. Ridley cross the lawn toward a well-dressed woman with a pinched expression.

Ruth leaned in. "Just wait until you meet her husband, Jacob Ridley. He's the best of men. He came to Harewood to be our blacksmith last year and fell in love with Eliza. Their story is particularly sweet."

The introductions began to make her head spin. She was doing her best to keep everyone straight but was certain she would forget someone.

Oliver Rose approached them, Samuel Harding at his side. They were an image of opposites, Mr. Rose in sleek navy blue, his waistcoat a demure cream and his watch hanging from a simple, unadorned chain. His dark hair was styled neatly, his eyes kind. His cousin, on the other hand, wore at least four different colors on his waistcoat alone. His green jacket was bright and matched his hat, which sat at a jaunty angle over his golden hair. His smile was no less genuine for his ridiculous clothes.

Had Aurelia met Mr. Harding in a London ballroom, she would have immediately discarded him for a fop. He was a fop, clearly, but he was kind as well. Despite her reservations about the abundance of fobs clinking with his every step, she found she liked him.

"Good day," Ruth said.

The men bowed.

Samuel's gaze lingered on Ruth. "You look lovely today, Miss Wycliffe."

"And you as well, Miss Beswick," Oliver added quickly. What a nice man. She fought amusement. He needn't say anything of the sort simply to spare her feelings.

"Thank you," Ruth said, before turning to Aurelia. "We ought to put a picnic together. What do you think?"

"It is much too cold for a picnic," Samuel said.

"Nonsense. We can go when it is warmest in the early afternoon and wear cloaks. It is still August, after all."

"We're nearly halfway into September," Oliver said dryly.

"It is warm enough ." Ruth was not to be deterred. "I think a picnic is an excellent excuse to come together and chat while the boys play. Eliza can bring her husband's apprentice, Peter, you may bring Edmund, and I will bring Tom." Her smile grew the longer she spoke, as if loving her idea as she formed it.

"Who will we bring?" Samuel asked.

"No one." Ruth grinned. "This is a ladies' picnic."

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head.

"And small boys, of course," Aurelia added.

"Yes, small boys. That does not fit either of you, unfortunately." Ruth wrinkled her nose and squeezed Aurelia's arm. "I will speak to my brother and form a plan. Have you seen Dunder Hill yet?"

"I have not."

"Brilliant. We will have to go there."

Samuel tilted his head to the side like a sad puppy. "Do you not think Ryland would like to join this outing? He has always been fond of Dunder Hill."

Ruth stared at the man. Her mind was clearly working. "True, but I cannot think of another place to have a picnic this time of year. The ground is so soggy everywhere else."

Oliver laughed. "It is likely soggy on the hill too, Ruth. Must your party consist of only women and small boys?"

Ruth sighed. "I suppose not, but if we are to include you, you must vow that you will not monopolize Miss Beswick. I wish to know her better."

Samuel put a hand over his heart. "I solemnly swear to leave you ladies to your bonding."

Ruth clapped her hands together. "Lovely. I'll send invitations when the date is set."

Motion near the road caught Aurelia's eye and she noticed the Tilton servants gathered near the wagon. "I should be going. It looks as though our wagon is preparing to leave."

Ruth took her hand. "Can I come see you this week? You can help me plan the picnic."

Was that appropriate? She was a governess, for heaven's sake. Was she allowed to accept callers? Hesitation slowed her response, which Ruth seemed to notice.

"If you are too busy with Edmund's lessons, of course, I would never wish to impose."

"It's no imposition." Aurelia smiled. "Edmund enjoys his breaks, particularly if you bring Tom."

"It's settled. Do not tell my brother. I love arriving without notice."

Aurelia chuckled. It was sometimes difficult to tell when Ruth was joking, but she had a feeling the woman was more often in earnest than not. She bade them all a good day before joining Tilly near the road. Christopher stood at the base of the wagon, handing up the women as they climbed the step and found a spot on one of the benches.

By the time they were all seated, Aurelia searched the gathered people in the churchyard for Ruth, finding her still in conversation with the two gentlemen. They had been joined by Eliza again and a tall, broad-shouldered man who must have been her husband.

"I met Mrs. Ridley today," Aurelia said softly. "She dresses so nicely for a blacksmith's wife."

"She's a fine lady," Tilly said. "It's so romantic, isn't it? They didn't care at all for anyone's opinions. They're in love."

It was romantic and exceedingly brave. "It takes a strong constitution to withstand Society's vitriol. Did they face much opposition?"

Tilly's wide eyes told more than her words needed to. "Still do, I wager. Mrs. Ridley wears those fine dresses to church, but I've seen her outside of Sunday and she's just like the rest of us."

A woman between worlds. Aurelia could understand the plight of balancing social classes.

Mrs. Pike let out a huff from the bench across from them. "People ought not to set their sights above their stations. It isn't proper."

Tilly nodded. "Of course, ma'am."

The housekeeper's gaze slid to Aurelia, watching her while the wagon took off down the bumpy lane, her shoulders rocking with the motion. Mr. Pike said something to take her attention away. Was that look a warning? A message that she was keeping an eye on Aurelia? She'd come here to teach a six-year-old boy, for heaven's sake, not to seduce an earl. If that was what the housekeeper worried about, she had nothing to fear. Ryland had first met Aurelia when she was still young, full of exuberance and youth and beauty, and he hadn't pursued her then. He most certainly wouldn't have looked twice at her now, either, had they met under any other circumstances, let alone in his house.

Tilly leaned close, keeping her voice low. "Think nothing of it. Mrs. Pike is always reminding us to keep our heads down and remember our place."

"I have no designs on?—"

"I know," Tilly whispered, her eyes darting to the housekeeper and back to ascertain they were not being overheard. "None of us do. She's been with the earl since he was young, so she is protective. It is more about him than you."

"No woman in Harewood would tempt me," Jasper said, leaning in. Evidently they weren't being quiet enough. A wide grin split his face. "But the autumn fete is approaching, and it is entirely different."

"In Locksley," Tilly explained, after frowning at Jasper. "We're all given a half-day to attend."

The wagon pulled into Tilton's yard, rumbling down the long, bumpy lane toward the stablehouse.

"Not that any of the women in Locksley will look twice at you, Jasper Potts."

He flashed her a smile. "Care to wager on that?"

"There will be no wagering if you wish to keep your position," Mr. Pike said as the wagon rolled to a stop. "Now move along."

Jasper hopped out of the wagon and turned to hand out the women. He grinned at Tilly when he helped her down, but she only rolled her eyes. Christopher stood behind them, glaring. When Aurelia's feet were firmly settled on the ground, she shook out her skirts and started toward the house.

"Miss Beswick?"

She turned to find a man in a worn brown coat. His dark hair was peppered with white, trailing from his cap and down his cheekbones. He had been sitting with the grooms and stablehand in the wagon, but she hadn't yet been introduced.

"Mr. Robert Barnes," he said, removing his hat. "I'm the gamekeeper."

"Good day, Mr. Barnes. You know who I am already."

"I do." He returned his hat to his head, and they started toward the house.

Tilly was up ahead walking with Christopher, but glanced back to watch them. Had she not mentioned an interest in the gamekeeper's son? Which one of these men was that?

"Forgive me for being forward, but I noticed you teaching the boy about animal observation."

Her cheeks blazed, warmth spreading up. Had she encroached on his territory somehow? Scared off some birds or ruined a habitat?

"We have many animals come through the gardens, and I'd be happy to show Master Edmund how to identify different tracks, if he's interested."

Aurelia paused on the path. So, neither of those things. She recovered quickly. "That would be wonderful, Mr. Barnes." Not only would it help Edmund be a better hunter when he was older, it would provide another reason for them to be out of doors.

"There is value in knowing which animals are on your land, I wager, and Master Edmund will be a landowner someday."

He did not need to further convince her of the merits of his proposed activity. "I think that is a splendid idea. I can bring Edmund outside for a lesson Tuesday after breakfast, if that suits?"

Mr. Barnes nodded, resuming his walk toward the house, which was likely only to escort Aurelia, for he did not sleep in the servants' quarters, as far as she knew.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. I look forward to it."