Page 9 of The Duke's Second Bride
As soon as the shop door chimed shut behind him, Ava released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Barely a moment later, Edith reappeared. “Thank you for waiting,” she said, pressing a hand to her hair. “I already had Madame de la Courte add the cost of the order to my account, so we may leave when we please.” She stopped short. “Ava, you’ve gone almost completely white. Is everything all right?”
Ava shook her head, trying to calm her racing heart. “It’s nothing,” she lied. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Christian had narrowly avoided the temptation to let Luke’s governess go, but ultimately the young lady had done so much hand-wringing—and, prior to this incident, had had such a spotless record—that he decided to keep her on. What also helped was that, as Luke approached twelve, it was time to expand the household staff to include a new tutor and physician.
“A pleasure to meet with you both,” Christian said. “You said you had a matter of specific importance which you wished to discuss?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Bingham, Luke’s new tutor, exchanging a nervous glance with Doctor Glover. “We were … well, sir, to be frank, it is about the matter of your son’s speech difficulties.”
Christian stiffened. “Is that so?”
The tutor nodded. “Luke is a bright boy,” he said.
“And physically healthy, as well,” added the doctor. “It would seem his stutter is more a product of nerves. I would recommend, as the best course of action, to take him out more in calm social situations, so that he may practice conversing without the pressures of a large crowd. Isolation is the worst thing for this sort of malady.”
“The Aberton’s upcoming garden party, for instance,” the tutor said. “An outdoor setting, not overly crowded—the combination of fresh air and friendly socialization would be most invigorating, don’t you agree, Dr. Glover?”
The physician nodded. “Quite.”
Christian swallowed, genuinely considering. “I see,” he said. He could not deny; their logic seemed sound. “Thank you for the recommendation, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing yourcontinued progress in Luke’s education and well-being. I will consider this party.”
The two men nodded, understanding the dismissal, and both left the room.
Later that night, after dinner, Christian watched from across the drawing room as Luke read quietly by the fire.
Had he been isolating the boy? Had the isolation been worsening his stutter?
He had only meant to keep Luke safe from potential ridicule, and yet, perhaps in the course of trying to protect his son, he had also been holding him back.
Perhaps a garden party would be a good start after all.
As Ava read in a chair by the window, she absentmindedly petted Pudding with her free hand. The ginger cat purred with pleasure at the attention, curling up in her lap and basking in the combined warmth of her body and the sun’s rays pouring through the window.
Ava had first found Pudding as a kitten, barely a year ago, with his face buried in a bowl of figgy pudding during a thunderstorm. The nickname had stuck, and now Pudding was rather stuck to her as well, it seemed. She couldn’t have beenmore grateful for the cat—no longer tiny anymore, now that he was being fed a steady diet of love and kitchen scraps.
“My Lady?” The housekeeper appeared in the parlor door. “We received your sum for the week.”
“Thank you for letting me know, Mrs. Wentworth.”
“It is quite a bit diminished from last week’s amount, ma’am.”
Ava froze. Pudding almost immediately yowled, protesting the sudden lack of pats. “Oh? And why is that the case?”
“The accountant was a bit … tight-lipped on the details,” her housekeeper said primly. “But he mentioned that it might have something to do with the new Lord Dunfair’s other investments.”
“I see.”
Brandon had never had any other investments. At least, no new ones that would interfere with his offered allowance for Ava.
The only thing that had changed was that horrible encounter at the modiste. Ava had observed his threats getting more and more stringent, but this was the first time he had actually made a move to reduce her allowance. It was as though he meant to remind her that she lived entirely at his mercy.
“Thank you for letting me know, Mrs. Wentworth,” she said. “Let us go over the household late and see what adjustments may be sensibly made to keep us within budget.”
She would make do with what she had; although, she couldn’t help but feel, with a sinking pit in her stomach, that Brandon’s efforts to prove his power over her were just beginning.
CHAPTER 5
