Lord Heartless Page 11

  “Do you think I should weed the garden, too?” Alexander asked.

  “I think a smart young man like yourself might swallow his pride and ask Cook for her forgiveness. You gave her quite a scare. She was sure the countess might sack her on the spot when she found there was no dessert.”

  “Oh.” Alexander’s chest lifted in a heavy sigh. “The gardener usually fills her wood box every morning after breakfast. I think I should do so for the rest of the week.”

  “If you feel that is a suitable punishment.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good then, I will let you go back to sleep.” She slipped from behind him to stand. Straightening the covers, she tucked them around his body to ward off a chill.

  “Lady Montague?”

  “Yes, Alexander.”

  “Would you come here every night to tuck me in and tell me a story if I asked?”

  Her hands stilled. “I think I shall try. I know that there are some nights I must accompany your father and the countess out.”

  “I should like for you to come then, when you are able.”

  “I will be honored.” She bent down and kissed his cheek and Alexander drew his arms around her neck, burying his face against her cheek.

  “I am glad my father married you and brought you here to Broadmoor. He has stayed closer to home these past few days.”

  “You like that?”

  “I do. You love him, my father, I mean?”

  Landon’s heart skipped a beat as the room grew still.

  “That is a deep question, Alexander, and it may not be so easy to answer.”

  “I heard Mr. Black say it was a marriage of convenience.”

  “Hm, I shall add eavesdropping to your list of charms.”

  Alexander loosened his hold and placed a hand upon her arm. “Do you? It would be a shame if you did not.”

  “There is no shame, Alexander.”

  In the dim light, Landon could have sworn his son seemed crestfallen.

  “Sometimes,” she began. “I have learned that love is a one-sided affair. I cared so deeply for my own father, but I could not save him from his downfall.”

  “Do you love my father?” Alexander asked again.

  “I care deeply for your father. I hope one day he will return the favor. But as for love, we shall have to see what the fates yield. You need not worry. I shall always be here for you, Alexander.”

  “I am glad.” Alexander yawned.

  Landon turned away and retraced his steps to the hall. Instead of taking the main stairs, he moved to another door and took the servants’ stairway to the bedrooms below. With each step, Juliet’s awkward admission rang in his ears. One day, I hope he’ll return the favor. Opening the door, he found Simmons laying out his nightclothes.

  “Oh, evening, milord.” He stepped to the side and took Landon’s jacket as he removed it.

  “The countess made out all right after I left?”

  “Yes, milord, she retreated to her rooms about twenty minutes ago and rang for her maid.”

  “I see.” Landon reached up and began to remove his cravat all the while studying the reflection in the mirror. She thinks me handsome, roguish, and at the same time frustrating. He took a deep breath and dropped the cloth on the dresser. He removed the rest of his clothing and with Simmons help drew his robe across his body. Grabbing the sash, he looped a tie.

  “Will there be anything else?”

  “No.” He turned away. “Get a good night’s sleep, Simmons.”

  “Thank you, milord.”

  The door closed and Landon took to his armchair to think. Staring down into the coals glowing in the hearth, he brought his hand up to his chin and stroked the skin beneath his bottom lip. All his life, he had enjoyed mocking the entanglements to love created by the Ton. He willfully flirted and played the seducer to women whose husbands had done their duty and moved on to other pleasures leaving their wives’ arms empty. Did he want the same for Juliet? Then there was Alexander and the comment about him staying close to home. His father had abandoned their family for other pursuits. Are the sins of the father destined to be repeated?

  He cut his gaze to the door and thought about the woman across the way. He alone had the power to change his course of action. It would require the baring of his soul and a change in his actions if he had any hope that she might forgive him. Landon could only hope he had the courage to rise to her expectations.

  ***

  Landon hurried down the stairs and out the back door in search of Aaron Bell, the head gardener. Last night’s sleep was long coming, but now he at least had somewhat of a plan. Rounding the corner next to the laundry room, he stopped at the sound of two voices.

  “So, you want to do the stack, ey?” The gardener’s deep brogue echoed in the early morning stillness.

  Landon peeked around the corner. Alexander stood, his back straight, his hands clasped behind him like the master of a clipper ship. Mr. Bell looked over Alexander’s head and caught his eye. Landon nodded.

  Aaron Bell was a mountain of a man and he knew it. Drawing a deep breath, he puffed out his chest and crossed his arms. From his hiding place, Landon watched with awe as his son showed not the least bit of intimidation.

  Sizing up the giant before him, Alexander spoke with confidence. “I do, sir.”

  Landon’s brow arched at his son humbling himself before those employed to help.

  “You mind telling me why, Master Montague?”

  Alexander hung his head. “I pilfered one of Cook’s pies.”

  “Ah, so you are the rascal. Wondered what happened to it.”

  “I ate it, sir.”

  Bell’s eyes widened. “The whole thing?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Alexander admitted.

  Bell chuckled. “Must have had a disagreeable night.”

  “Quite.” Alexander’s word sounded sour. “So you understand that I need to apologize to Cook.”

  “Yes, yes, I see.” Bell stroked his chin and nodded. “All right, Master Montague, I’ve cut the wood and you would be doing me a favor taking it inside. Stack the cords in the wood box both inside the kitchen and just outside the door. You think you can handle both?”

  Alexander seemed to brighten. “Yes, sir.” He extended his hand for the gardener to shake. Bell’s brow arched, but he took the child’s hand and they sealed their bargain.

  “I shall leave you to it, then.” Bell gave a nod and stepped past Alexander.

  “Oh, Mr. Bell?”

  “Yes, Master Montague?”

  “May I please pick a small bouquet of the countess’s roses?”

  “For Cook?”

  “Yes, sir, and,” Alexander’s words trembled, “for Lady Montague as well.”

  “All right, no more than six, or the countess might think a thief stole in during the night.”

  Alexander beamed as if someone pinned a metal upon his chest. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Roll up yer sleeves and begin.”

  Landon watched his son hurry away as Bell walked toward him. Checking once to make sure Alexander was not watching, the gardener dipped out of the boy’s line of sight and hurried to his side.

  “Thank you, Mr. Bell.”

  The gardener pulled the cap from his head and shook Landon’s hand warmly. “Pleasure, your lordship. I must admit, I was right surprised the lad came to me and admitted his guilty pleasure.”

  “It seems my wife has a good understanding of children.”

  “Ah, young Montague is growing. It is good for him to take responsibility for his actions. I must say it was a surprise.”

  “Yes.” Landon nodded, thinking over the man’s words. “Just keep an eye on him.”

  “Oh, no problem, milord. We’ll have ’em back inside by breakfast with Cook clucking over him like a mother hen.”

  “Excellent.” With his spirits buoyed, Landon moved inside to do some work. However, his mind kept repeating the words Mr. Bell said. Was it that much of a surp
rise? Had he allowed Alexander to assume that anything he did would not have consequences?

  Landon put down his pen and rose to stare out at the gardens. Arms crossed over his chest. His chin tucked toward his chest, he listened as his conscience analyzed his youthful actions. His own father was more absent that at home. He’d lashed out in similar ways hoping to be noticed. He’d thought himself incapable of downfall.

  Simmons arrived at the door to his study promptly at nine. “Breakfast, sir.”

  Landon put away his thoughts and turned. “Oh, good.” Grabbing the coat he’d left on the back of the chair, he walked to the dining room where he found his mother already seated. “Morning, Countess.”

  His mother glanced up surprised. “Gracious. Is the world coming to an end?”

  “Not at all,” Landon replied as he moved toward his wife. Today, Juliet wore a simple frock of rose pink. “The color becomes you,” he whispered in her ear as he helped her with the chair. He took his seat and pulled his napkin into his lap. “So, is today a stay at home day?”

  “Yes,” the dowager replied. “We will be receiving from ten till noon, then once again from two until four.”

  “How exciting.” He grinned, glancing across the table. He caught Juliet’s eye. “I trust you slept well after your stroll?”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “I did. Thank you, milord.”

  Before any further conversation could occur, the door burst open and Alexander strode in, hands behind his back and looking very pleased with himself. It was all Landon could do to keep a straight face.

  “Alexander?” the countess questioned, her eyes moving over his son. “You are dirty.”

  “Yes, countess.”

  “Go and wash this instant before you sit down to the table.”

  “In a moment, please,” Alexander begged.

  Landon looked down at his plate to keep his son from catching a glimpse of the smile that broadened his face.

  “Only that,” his mother huffed.

  Alexander ignored her anger and produced a single red rose in a vase. “Forgive me, Countess, for I stole the pie last night.”

  “Wh-why Alexander,” the countess stammered placing a hand to her chest. She glanced to Landon before bringing her gaze back to the young boy before her. “To what do I owe this honor?”

  “Because I love you and I took advantage of your generosity. I hope you will accept my apology and release Cook from your anger.”

  Landon glanced to his wife, who seemed to me moving her mouth to his words. She caught his stare and lowered her eyes.

  “Apology accepted,” the countess said. “Of course, you dear boy, but shouldn’t you be trying to please Cook?”

  “I am stacking her wood for the rest of the week.”

  “Indeed.” His mother’s eyes widened as Alexander crossed over to Lady Juliet.

  There, he placed a vase on her plate that held two perfect pink buds.

  “Oh, Alexander, for me?” she gushed.

  He nodded. “I wish to express my gratitude for your visit.”

  Juliet smiled. “I accept, and thank you.”

  He turned and looked at his father. “You won’t eat without me? “

  Landon shook his head. “No, hurry.”

  Alexander sprinted from the room.

  “Did you put him up to this?” his mother asked.

  “No,” Landon replied. “This morning, I came down and found him already talking to the gardener.”

  “Mr. Bell? Good heavens.”

  Landon looked to Juliet. “It seems some fairy must have whispered in his ears as he slept.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. “Do you believe in the wee folk too?”

  “Well, whoever it might be, I applaud their actions,” the countess said.

  “Yes, I applaud them, too,” Landon echoed and watched his wife blush.

  ***

  Days settled into a particular rhythm. Alexander joined them for breakfast after completing his chore of penance, then Lord Montague would depart for business leaving the Juliet at the mercy of the women who could not contain their curiosity over Lord Heartless’s wife. Lucky for her, the countess remained by her side, declaring visitations over when they dragged on past their prime. The best part of the day was always evening. After dinner, she and Lord Montague made the habit of sneaking up the servant stairs to meet with Alexander and read.

  Today, at breakfast, Juliet had been surprised by the countess proclaiming she would be ill in the afternoon.

  “I have had enough of people coming to stare as I am sure you have too, Lady Juliet. I shall be ill this afternoon. I have instructed Simmons to take notes of regret to the Sinclair’s, the Bartlett’s, and Baroness Dupree.”

  “Mother, are you truly ill?” Lord Montague asked.

  “No, just tired of being put on display. You two can find something to fancy yourselves with today, can’t you?” She looked at Lord Montague, then gave a poignant glance in Juliet’s direction with an arch of her brow.

  “Yes, I have some thank-you notes to write,” Juliet said.

  “Good, I’m glad that’s settled. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

  “Of course, Countess.”

  She watched her husband rise and take hold of the chair. The dowager rose, took her cane, and moved toward the doorway. “Simmons?”

  “Yes, milady?”

  “In about an hour, please bring some of those fresh strawberries Cook bought at the market to my room.”

  “Of course.” He bowed deep.

  Juliet watched the countess look over her shoulder and wink. Coloring slightly, she studied the food still on her plate as her husband regained his seat.

  “Well.” He smiled, spreading his napkin. “That leaves you free for the afternoon. Is there anything you long to do? Take a carriage ride? View the gardens?”

  “I do not wish to take you from your work.”

  “I believe they could do without me for an afternoon. Besides, the carpenters have all been sent to Holly Grove.” He rested his forearms against the table. “Tell me, if you were at Holly Grove on a day such as today, what would you be doing?”

  “What would I be doing?” She paused to think. “I would have finished the accounts and worried where the money was coming from.”

  “Yes, well that’s taken care of.”

  She nodded. “Then perhaps I might take a book, some water or wine, and fruit or cheese out beneath the trees to read.”

  “Ah, what a splendid idea.” Landon leaned forward. “Did you know there is a small pond to the rear on the lawns?”

  “No, I’ve not been any farther than the gardens,” she replied, buttering her toast.

  “Good. You may want to change out of such a pretty frock, and we’ll go exploring.”

  “Just the two of us?”

  “We could invite Alexander. In fact, I will go now and declare a studies holiday. You go change, Lady Montague, and we shall have a family outing.”

  Breakfast forgotten, they hurried from the dining room. It took no time for Juliet to find the plain pink gown she’d worn at Holly Grove. Ignoring Helen’s frown at the missed the afternoon’s reception in exchange for the picnic with her husband and son, Juliet hastened to change her clothing.

  “There will be tongues to wag,” her maid warned.

  “We shall make it up. The full calendar and recent activities with the dress for the opera has exhausted the countess. Those that know her will understand.”

  “Perhaps.” Helen sighed as she hung the dress back in the closet. “Some may think to your quickening?”

  “Quicken….” Juliet’s hand moved to her waist. “There is none, Helen. I have not yet conceived. It is much to soon.”

  “All the same, there would be talk. There is always speculation. Many of the stories center around Lord Montague and his journey to your home. Some believe a babe is already on the way.” Helen shrugged.

  Juliet pressed her lips together and looked back at her reflection
. They had been married nearly a month and in that time Lord Montague had made only that one visit to her room. Instead of returning to her, he had buried himself in making the necessary improvements to Holly Grove and she had undertaken the task to understand the Ton.

  The time for the impasse to be breached had come. Other than the not telling her about Alexander, Lord Montague had kept his promises to the utmost. Was she being nothing more than a foolish chit demanding he utter the words, I love you?

  “Will you need me any more today, milady?”

  Juliet shook her head. “No, you are free until this evening when I need help preparing for the opera.”

  “As you wish.” Helen quietly left the room.

  Chapter Eleven

  After heading down the stairs, Juliet moved to the library. The rows of books stood neat upon the shelves along the north side. She bypassed the histories and moved to the far end where she selected a deep green leather-bound volume. Smiling, she opened the door to the hallway, where Alexander greeted her.

  “Did you hear?” His eyes were bright with excitement. “Father declared a holiday.”

  “Did he?” She played innocent to Alexander’s enthusiastic words.

  “We are going to the pond at the edge of the grounds. Are you coming, Lady Montague?”

  “I am.”

  To her surprise, he reached out, took her hand, and gave a gentle tug. “Then come, milady. We do not want Father to start without us.”

  Alexander raced ahead as they strolled toward the pond. Lord Montague carried a basket with a blanket tucked over so she could not peek inside. Beneath the shade of a sturdy English oak, they spread the blanket and sat down. Landon slipped off his shoes, as did Alexander, then, pulling a wooden sailboat from beneath the blanket, they hurried down to the edge of the pond. Juliet opened her book of sonnets and began to read. But the laughter and splashing quickly pulled her attention away from the words printed on the page.

  “Lady Juliet, watch.”

  She closed the book as Alexander pushed the sailboat out into the pond with a discarded branch. “Be careful,” she called as they both stepped into the cool water.