14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

E velyn couldn't help but chuckle as she watched Julia and Augusta scamper ahead, their walking sticks now transformed into imaginary swords. The girls lunged and parried, their laughter echoing through the countryside.

As Julia swung her stick particularly close to Augusta's head, Evelyn instinctively opened her mouth to chastise them. But she hesitated, her words dying on her lips as she reconsidered.

The Baron, ever observant, raised an eyebrow. "Why did you hesitate, Miss Bane? Surely you don't approve of such reckless behaviour?"

Evelyn took a moment to gather her thoughts, her eyes still on the girls as they continued their mock battle. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but firm.

"I've just realised, my lord, that there might be more than one kind of disagreeable animal out here when they're alone." She turned to face the Baron, meeting his gaze steadily. "Animals that could benefit from a good whacking."

Her eyes flickered meaningfully, and she saw understanding dawn on the Baron's face. His expression shifted, a mix of surprise and something else—perhaps respect?—crossing his features.

"I see," he said, his voice low. "You believe the girls should be prepared to defend themselves?"

Evelyn nodded, relieved that he had grasped her meaning so quickly. "Precisely, my lord. While I would never encourage violence, I believe there's wisdom in being prepared for... unexpected encounters." Instinctively, Evelyn pulled at her sleeves, ensuring that her arms were fully covered—a remnant from her time with the Judge, when her daily life was a struggle to keep evidence of his misdeeds hidden.

The Baron was silent for a moment, his gaze thoughtful as he watched his daughters. When he spoke again, there was a new note of approval in his voice.

"You continue to surprise me, Miss Bane. I'm beginning to think you might have more country sense than I initially gave you credit for."

Evelyn and the Baron walked in silence for a moment, the only sounds the crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the distant laughter of the girls. The quiet stretched between them, not entirely uncomfortable but laden with unspoken thoughts.

Finally, Evelyn gathered her courage and broke the silence. "My lord, does this mean you've reconsidered your stance on the girls' education?" She held her breath, hoping she hadn't overstepped.

The Baron didn't answer immediately. He seemed to be weighing his words carefully. When he did speak, his question caught Evelyn off guard.

"Tell me, Miss Bane, are the girls able to calculate yearly income from tenant leases yet? Or understand how interest on credit works?"

Evelyn blinked, taken aback by the unexpected query. "I... well, we haven't quite reached those topics yet, my lord. But I assure you, they're coming along nicely in their studies."

The Baron's grey eyes fixed on her, his gaze intense. "And how, Miss Bane, can you think social graces are even remotely as important as these more practical matters?"

Evelyn felt her cheeks warm under his scrutiny. She hadn't expected such a direct challenge to her teaching methods. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before responding.

Evelyn took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. She turned to face the Baron, her chin lifted slightly in defiance.

"My lord, if you found so much fault with the way I walked down a country lane, would you want your daughters exposed to the same sort of ridicule when they entered a London drawing room, or when they were presented?"

She watched as the Baron's expression hardened, his jaw clenching visibly. For a moment, she thought he might simply walk away, ending the conversation before it began. But then he spoke, his voice low and firm.

"The girls aren't ever going to London, Miss Bane. And they definitely won't be presented at court."

Evelyn blinked, taken aback by the finality in his tone. She had expected resistance, certainly, but not this outright refusal. She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again, realising she needed to choose her words carefully.

"But surely, my lord, you can't mean to keep them isolated forever," she said, her voice gentle but insistent. "How will they find husbands, have families?"

Evelyn froze, her words dying on her lips as the Baron stopped abruptly. His face had gone pale, his eyes haunted by some unseen spectre.

"They won't ever marry," he said, his voice sharp as a knife.

Evelyn blinked, certain she had misheard. "I beg your pardon, my lord?"

The Baron's gaze snapped to her, his grey eyes burning with an intensity that made her take a step back. "You heard me, Miss Bane. My daughters will not marry. Not now, not ever."

Confusion and shock warred within Evelyn. She had known the Baron was protective of his girls, but this... this was beyond anything she had imagined. "But... why?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "Surely you don't mean to keep them from experiencing love, from having families of their own?"

The Baron's face twisted, a mixture of pain and anger flashing across his features. When he spoke, his words were clipped, each one seeming to cost him dearly. "Because mothers die, Miss Bane. Having children is just too perilous. I won't allow them to take such a risk."

Evelyn felt her blood boiling, her fingers clenching around her walking stick. She took a deep breath, willing herself to remain calm, but the Baron's words had struck a nerve she couldn't ignore.

The Baron turned abruptly, striding away as if the matter was settled. Evelyn wasn't about to let him off so easily. She hurried forward, her skirts swishing as she stepped in front of him, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"My lord," she said, her voice trembling with barely contained fury, "you cannot make such unilateral decisions for your daughters as if they were farmers you can order about, telling them what to plant and how to plough their fields."

The Baron's eyes flashed dangerously. "I can and I will, Miss Bane. I am their father and the lord of this estate."

Evelyn felt her composure slipping. She knew she was overstepping, but she couldn't stop herself. "Being their father and the lord of the estate doesn't make you the master of their entire lives!"

"It does, Miss Bane," the Baron retorted, his voice as cold and unyielding as stone. "It most certainly does."

Evelyn stared at him, aghast. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of fury and disbelief coursing through her veins. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she couldn't stop herself. The words tumbled out before she could rein them in.

"You're not being a father, you're being a tyrant!" she shouted, her voice echoing across the empty field.

As she glared at the Baron, his face seemed to shift and blur. Suddenly, she was no longer looking at James Ayles, but at her own father, his stern countenance etched with disappointment. Then, just as quickly, it morphed into the cruel visage of the Judge, his eyes cold and unforgiving. Evelyn blinked hard, forcing herself back to the present.

"The twins deserve the chance to live their own lives," she continued, her voice thick with emotion. "Not just the narrow path you've set out for them. They should be free to make their own choices, to experience love and loss, joy and heartbreak. That's what living truly means!"

The Baron's face hardened, his grey eyes glinting like steel. "They'll live however I believe best for their survival," he growled. "I won't have them risking their lives for some foolish notion of romance or adventure. You don't understand the dangers, Miss Bane. You can't possibly comprehend what's at stake."

Evelyn felt tears pricking at her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. Her chest heaved with the effort of containing her emotions, words of defiance dancing on the tip of her tongue.

She wanted to shout at the Baron, to tell him he had no idea what she understood, what she had endured. But the revelation would be too much, too dangerous. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her secrets locked away.

The Baron glowered at her, his grey eyes stormy with anger and something else—perhaps a flicker of pain? For a moment, they stood frozen, locked in a silent battle of wills.

Suddenly, the Baron's gaze shifted, looking past her. Evelyn turned, following his line of sight. Her heart sank as she spotted Julia and Augusta standing a short distance down the lane, hands clasped tightly together. Their eyes were wide with shock and confusion, darting between their father and their governess.

Evelyn's anger drained away, replaced by a wave of shame. How much had the girls heard? What damage had she done with her outburst? She opened her mouth, desperate to say something, anything, to ease the tension that crackled in the air.

But before she could speak, Julia's voice, small and trembling, broke the silence. "Papa? Miss Bane? Why are you shouting?"

Augusta, ever the more perceptive of the two, tightened her grip on her sister's hand. Her clear grey eyes, so like her father's, were filled with a mixture of worry and understanding far beyond her years.

Evelyn glanced at the Baron, unsure of how to proceed. The anger had faded from his face, replaced by a look of weariness that made him seem suddenly older. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that spoke volumes of his inner turmoil.

Evelyn took a deep breath, forcing her emotions under control. She turned back to the Baron, her voice low and steady. "My lord, I would be happy to continue this discussion at another time, but perhaps not in front of the girls. If you're here just to quarrel, we'll be fine without your company."

The Baron blinked, clearly caught off guard by her sudden change in demeanour. For a moment, he seemed unsure how to respond to being so summarily dismissed by a governess. His brow furrowed, and Evelyn half-expected him to argue. But then, to her surprise, he gave a curt nod.

"Yes, quite right," he muttered, his voice gruff. He cleared his throat, addressing the girls. "Julia, Augusta, I need to check on Farmer Hawkins' progress. Miss Bane will see you back to the house."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away. Evelyn watched him go, her anger still simmering beneath the surface. It was infuriating how he could walk away from a heated argument with such grace. His broad shoulders and trim waist cut a handsome figure against the rolling countryside.

She clenched her fists, willing herself not to stare. It wouldn't do to let her gaze linger, especially not with the girls watching. Evelyn turned back to Julia and Augusta, forcing a smile onto her face.

"Come along, girls," she said, her voice only slightly strained. "Let's proceed with our day."

***

J ames strode across the fallow field, his boots sinking into the soft earth with each determined step. The encounter with Miss Bane still echoed in his mind, her sharp words cutting through his usual stoic demeanour. He clenched his jaw, irritation and something else—something he refused to name—warring within him.

'If you're here just to quarrel, we'll be fine without your company.'

The governess's parting shot rang in his ears. James shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory of her flashing eyes and the defiant tilt of her chin. How had she developed such a razor-sharp tongue? And where did she find the audacity to use it on him, of all people?

He paused atop a small rise, surveying his lands. The spring air was warm and heavy, carrying the scent of fresh earth and new growth. It should have calmed him, as it always did, but today it only served to remind him of Miss Bane's earlier tumble into the mud. The corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily at the memory of her indignant expression.

James frowned, catching himself. This was precisely the problem. Despite her argumentative nature—or perhaps because of it—he found himself seeking out her company at every turn. It was maddening. He had far more important matters to attend to than sparring with an impertinent governess.

And yet...

He couldn't deny the spark of life her presence ignited within him. Their verbal jousts left him feeling more invigorated than he had in years. It was as if she saw through his carefully constructed fa?ade of stern indifference, challenging him at every turn.

James removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated by the direction of his thoughts. He needed to focus on his estate, on ensuring his tenants' welfare. Not on deciphering the enigma that was Miss Evelyn Bane.

James sighed heavily, his broad shoulders sagging under the weight of his responsibilities. He turned his gaze to the bottom of the sloping field, where a patch of stubborn weeds awaited his attention. The land there had long been a thorn in his side, its low-lying nature making it prone to waterlogging and difficult to cultivate.

He began his descent, each step deliberate and measured. The soft earth clung to his boots, a constant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. As he reached the boggy area, James crouched down, running his calloused fingers through the tangle of weeds and damp soil.

Focus, man , he chided himself silently. This land won't clear itself.

Determined to banish all thoughts of Miss Bane from his mind, James set to work, measuring the dampness of the soil. His irritation was only compounded because Farmer Hawkins was meant to be meeting him here, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Company would have been a welcome distraction from the mental torment that Miss Bane inflicted on him.

So engrossed was he in his labour that James failed to notice the sun was not shining as brightly. He toiled on, oblivious to the gathering storm clouds on the horizon, building into a dark, ominous column.