Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Edmund had screamed, Aurelia was certain of it. She sat up in bed, darkness curling around her, and listened, but the sound did not repeat. When she felt her head had cleared, she drew on her dressing gown and hurried down the corridor toward Edmund's chamber.

Soft whimpering met her ears, and she cursed herself for not being faster. She opened the door. "Edmund?"

There was no response. Aurelia hurried to the side of his bed and knelt on the floor, brushing his hair back. His skin was warm and clammy, likely from his tears, and his eyes closed tightly.

"It is only me," Aurelia said. "You've had a bad dream. Are you awake, Edmund?"

"No," he whispered.

She sank in relief. "You are well. You are safe. Do you need a hug?"

His eyes opened, searching for her in the darkness. He nodded, so Aurelia pushed up and sat on the edge of his bed. Edmund crawled into her arms and she closed them tightly around him, pulling the boy onto her lap. His behavior and attitude were so large, his command of himself so great even for one so young, that it surprised her how small he was as she held him. He was just a boy, and he needed comfort.

"Would you like to speak about it?" she asked. "Sometimes talking through awful dreams helps make them feel less scary."

"No." He gave a shuddering breath. "Will you sing to me?"

"Yes," she said immediately. She couldn't promise it would sound good so late at night, her throat scratchy and dry, but she didn't think Edmund cared much for that. Aurelia searched her mind for something to sing and settled on an old song she used to sing as a girl about a bird and a rabbit hiding from a hunter. She sang softly, brushing her fingers through his hair in a gentle, soothing pattern. It took three songs for him to fall asleep and stay that way. When Aurelia's fingers stilled, she removed them slowly, looking down at the angelic expression on Edmund's sleeping face.

She raised her eyes and almost screamed when she noticed a man standing in the dark, but quickly recognized Lord Ryland's brooding expression and swallowed the impulse. He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest. The darkness made his eyes deep as coal, and his hair was mussed.

"Another bad dream?" he whispered.

She nodded. "He is sleeping now." Aurelia turned her focus to laying Edmund on his pillow without waking him and slid from the bed. She stood above it for another few moments to ensure he was sleeping deeply, hoping the earl would be gone when she turned around.

No such luck. He remained, observing.

Once she was certain Edmund's chest rose and fell with deep, even rhythm, she backed away from the bed and out into the corridor, closing the door behind her. Lord Ryland leaned against the opposite wall.

Aurelia pulled her dressing gown tighter around herself, glad neither of them had a candle. He had likely hurried from his room upon hearing the scream just as she had, not stopping long enough to light a flame. Only she had been much closer.

"How did you hear him?" she asked.

"I left my door open."

"Your room must be cold."

"I manage. It is the only way I can listen for Edmund, especially from the floor below. He mentioned bad dreams to me recently, and I wanted to be here if he needed me."

Warmth spread through her chest. She didn't know many earls who would sacrifice their own comfort to ensure their children were not frightened and alone in the night. "You are a kind father."

"I am a father," he corrected, his low voice almost impossible to hear.

She stepped further into the corridor. "If you think that is standard practice, you are sorely mistaken."

"I haven't any notion of what is considered standard, as I hardly remember my father. I was young when he died. When it comes to general father-like behaviors, my education is lacking."

"Mr. Wycliffe seems to have set a good example for you."

"He has." Lord Ryland's voice carried through the dark corridor, his face and body barely discernible in the darkness. "If Ruth was susceptible to nightmares, I'm fairly positive Wycliffe would do very much the same thing."

She leaned a shoulder against the wall. When Edmund's scream had woken her, she'd struggled to keep her eyes open, but now she was so alert she feared she wouldn't be able to return to sleep at all.

"I can hardly see anything," he said.

"The windows in each of the rooms light the corridor during the day well enough, but it is difficult to see in the evening."

"Rather poor planning," he muttered. "Have you added it to your light analysis?"

Her cheeks warmed. "That was a ploy, and a badly contrived one at that. Edmund discovered me that first morning after I arrived, and I couldn't think of a better excuse to explain why I was in the governess's room without alerting him to who I was. I have since thought of a handful of better excuses I could have provided, of course, but it is done now."

"He is only six," Ryland said, a smile in his voice. "He loved the idea."

"All the same, we have moved on to more worthy lines of study."

"Latin," he said dryly.

"It is standard for English boys to begin learning their Latin and Greek letters as soon as they can read. Five years old, sometimes six or seven. By Mrs. Hoskin's parameters, Edmund is ready."

"I am only teasing," he said quietly. "It is perfectly reasonable to me."

She relaxed. His approval was necessary if she wanted to remain at Tilton, and she didn't want him believing she was pushing his son too far beyond necessary. Until he gave approval for her to make this her home, she would feel some degree of uneasiness.

It was important to show him that she upheld decorum, even when no one was watching. "I should go."

Lord Ryland straightened. "Yes, of course. Only, I wondered how many times have you come to Edmund's aid in this manner?"

"This is the first, my lord. But now that I know he suffers with bad dreams, I will keep my door open as well."

"You needn't, you know. It is not part of your responsibilities."

She looked at him, at the faint glint in his eyes that made her feel his attention in her stomach. "I did not sing to Edmund because it is my responsibility. If I can help, I will."

He was silent, watching her. The corridor shrank, making her feel like she could smell his cologne and hear him breathing. The entirety of the house was asleep around them, and it felt isolating.

"He dreamed for almost two years after his mother died," he whispered. "Dreams of her walking away. I didn't know that in the beginning, but when he grew old enough to speak to me, he was able to explain. Then, about two years ago, the dreams stopped."

"Now they are back? You mentioned he had had another one."

"He did not wish to speak about it, so I do not know if these are the same dreams. If you…if he confides in you?—"

"I will tell you what I can, but I will not press him."

"Of course not." Lord Ryland let out a breathy chuckle. "Is there anything you are not perfect at, Miss Beswick?"

She drew in a sharp breath. He was looking at her so kindly, his attention wrapped around her. She could smell the weak whiff of old cologne that had smudged in his sleep and created a new scent—something entirely Ryland. It took everything in her not to lean forward.

She ought to be in her bed. "A great many things, my lord."

"Somehow, I find that difficult to believe. Thank you, Miss Beswick. You have an exceedingly beautiful voice."

Words deserted her. She dipped in a shallow curtsy and turned away from him, walking directly into her room at the end of the corridor. She closed the door behind her and hoped she would not accidentally bump into the table holding the washbasin of dirty water. Enough moonlight filtered through the grimy window to make the table obvious, but she stood near the door, listening for retreating footsteps.

A minute passed, at least, before she heard the soft tread of Lord Ryland's steps turning down the stairs.

Aurelia was able to breathe again.

Ryland worried for Edmund and his dreams, and the concern kept him awake far into the night. He had laid in bed, alert, eyes on the dark ceiling, and heard the faint essence of Aurelia's songs as she'd lulled Edmund back to sleep. Ryland hadn't meant to observe them for so long, but when he had made it up the stairs after hearing Edmund's scream, Aurelia had already begun singing and he hadn't wanted to disturb them.

It had taken far too long to banish the sight and sounds of finding her so affectionately tending to his frightened boy but, eventually, Ryland had managed it. He woke too early from his fitful sleep, picked at his breakfast, and found his way to the study far earlier than they had appointed to meet.

Ryland sat at his desk an hour later, rubbing his eyes. He hadn't planned on keeping Aurelia on. She was young, beautiful, and had looked far too much like Jane when he first saw her in that inn. In truth, the more he came to know her, the more she became her own person, separate from his wife. While the women looked similar, she was so different.

He had mostly observed her from a distance, but he liked her frank way of dealing with Edmund—how firmly she had put her foot down about additional sweets or returning to their lessons after a break out of doors. He had watched her instruct Edmund on the proper way to address a visitor, though he was certain she hadn't any idea he had been able to hear them. The part that had struck him was not just Aurelia's patience, but Edmund's rapt attention. He trusted her, and he listened to her. Ryland had always known his son was a good boy, but he hadn't known what to expect when he brought a woman into the house to teach him. Edmund had taken to Aurelia like a bee to a flower.

A knock came at the door. Ryland sat straight so quickly, he tweaked his back. Rubbing at the spot on his lower spine, he called, "Enter."

Aurelia opened the door. Her blonde hair was combed away from her face and pinned back in a neat style, her gown a simple dark blue. They made her blue eyes arresting, and he forced his gaze to the chair across from his desk. Standing, he gestured to it. "Please, be seated."

Aurelia closed the door and crossed the room. She sat, fidgeting nervously, her gaze darting from him to the window repeatedly. He wanted to comfort her, but they had a reason for visiting, and she would likely relax once she realized he didn't intend to send her away just yet.

This meeting was so at odds with the moment they had shared in the corridor last night. That had been soft and comfortable, but this felt clumsy and too bright, like they could not hide in the shadows anymore.

"Can you provide an outline of what you intend to teach this week?" Ryland immediately regretted the question. He didn't need an outline. Thus far, he had been impressed with Aurelia's ability to cover a variety of topics under multiple subjects. But he could not think of anything else to ask. Why the devil had he asked for this meeting?

Because he was lonely. Idiot. But he'd done it, and he ought to make it seem legitimate. It wasn't ridiculous to want to know what his son was being taught. Surely this was not a strange meeting to hold with a governess.

Aurelia clasped her hands and unfolded them again.

He was anxious she would see through him, but the reality was that she was nervous as well. As she discussed her intent for the following week, how she planned to use other adults to round Edmund's learning, as they'd planned with Mr. Barnes for the animal tracks, she fidgeted with a seam on her sleeve. The hem was coming undone, and she continually pushed it back inside, then pulled at a thread that brought it out again.

She drew in a breath and released it. "Is there anything you would like me to focus on in particular?"

"At present, no. I think you have excellent direction."

Aurelia fidgeted again, crossing her ankles, then uncrossing them. "Is there anything else you would like to discuss, my lord?"

"No. I am merely interested in what Edmund will be learning." He paused. "I realize it is not typical behavior to be so invested in one's son's education."

Something akin to amusement—though vastly more subdued—lit her eyes. "I'm not sure if it is typical or not. Though I will allow that most fathers care for their sons' education."

His smile grew. "You are doing well with Edmund. He has had difficulty taking to new people at times, but he has liked you from your first light analysis. Usually, he keeps to himself around anyone other than my family—my parents, brother, sister, and others he's known his whole life. It takes time for Edmund to warm to new people, so I've been very impressed."

"Perhaps we need to resume the study of sunlight, since he enjoyed it so much." She said this as if she believed she should do what she could to solidify her place.

He nodded, watching her.

It was time to end the meeting before he found other ways to stall Aurelia. He enjoyed being in her company, which was dangerous. He stood, pushing his chair away from the desk.

She rose, wiping her hands nervously down her skirt. Ryland wished he could put her at ease, but they had a few more weeks left before he needed to decide. While he liked her and appreciated how she had connected with Edmund, she was still young, beautiful, and yes , he was attracted to her.

It was a dangerous combination.

"A study of sunlight will teach him scientific principles too, I imagine?"

She nodded. "I can write up a report?—"

"No need," he said, hoping to portray his joke better with a smile. "I wasn't in earnest."

She stepped away, relief along the lines of her face. "Good day, my lord."

While he watched her walk from the room, he sank back in his seat and let out a long sigh.

What was he going to do?