Читать книгу The Duke's Secret Heir - Sarah Mallory - Страница 12

Chapter Four

When Georgie had gone, Ellen tore up the pile of letters she had written. They were unnecessary, now she had decided to stay. She wondered how Max would take the news and how she would react when they next met. Last night it had been as much as she could do not to faint when she first saw him and it had been no easier this morning. While she had thought him a rogue her anger had helped her to maintain her composure, but the realisation that he had been telling the truth had filled her with shame and remorse that she had ever doubted him. Added to that was the fact that she thought him even more handsome now than when they had first met. The way her pulse leapt at the sight of him was proof that the attraction was still there, on her side at least. She dashed away a tear.

‘Well, it is too late for that now,’ she said to the empty room. ‘You had your chance and made a mull of it.’

The past could not be changed, so there was no point worrying about it. Ellen squared her shoulders and glanced at the clock; there was still time to take Jamie for an airing before dinner. She ordered her carriage, then went upstairs to change into her walking dress while Matlock took out Jamie’s warm coat to cover his blue suit.

‘I’d be happier if you would put up the head rather than sitting in an open carriage,’ opined the maid. ‘That wind is cutting, for all that we are at the end of May. And you should take a hot brick for your feet.’

‘Nonsense, Matty, it is only a fresh breeze,’ said Ellen. ‘We shall come to no harm if we are wrapped up.’

But she did not stop her old nurse from following them to the travelling barouche and tucking a rug about their legs, nor did she point out that her son would kick off the rug within minutes of their setting off.

* * *

Jamie loved riding in an open carriage and as they drove along the edge of the Stray she pointed out the various animals grazing there before they turned away from the open ground and headed for Low Harrogate. The roads were busy at this time of day, when many of the visitors took a walk or a drive before dinner. For herself, Ellen would have preferred to travel out of Harrogate but the noisy, bustling traffic provided entertainment for her son.

They had not gone far when she saw Max’s familiar figure striding along the flag way. He spotted their carriage and raised his cane to attract her attention. Ellen’s first impulse was to pretend she had not seen him, but she berated herself for such a cowardly thought and gave word to her driver to pull up.

‘I was on my way to see you,’ he said without preamble.

Conscious that her son was listening, and also of the crowds, and her servants sitting on the box, Ellen responded brightly.

‘As you see, Jamie and I are going for a drive and, alas, after dinner I am engaged to take tea with Lady Bilbrough. Perhaps you could call tomorrow.’

‘Thank you, I shall join you now.’ He glanced at Jamie. ‘After all, the sooner I become acquainted with this young man the better.’

She watched in horror as he opened the carriage door.

‘But there is no room,’ she said desperately.

‘Nonsense, there will be plenty of room if Master James will consent to sit on my knee. What do you say, young sir? You will be able to see much more if you are a little higher.’

Ellen had always been proud that Jamie was such a friendly, confident child, but now she found herself regretting the sunny nature that had Jamie climbing on to Max’s lap as if they had known each other for ever.

* * *

This is my son.

The words rang around in Max’s head as he helped the little boy on to his knee. He had known it from the first moment he had clapped eyes on the child and he had felt strangely relieved when Ellen had told him she had never married again. She had not tried to replace him in her life, or their son’s.

Their son. His heart lifted. This child would not be confined to the nursery as he had been. He would not be a cold, distant figure like his own father, but someone the boy could talk to, confide in. He found himself looking forward to the new role and it should start immediately.

‘Well, ma’am, I think you should introduce us,’ said Max, as they moved off.

Ellen narrowed her eyes at him. He knew she was put out by the way the boy had taken to him and could not deny a feeling of triumph. Ignoble, perhaps, but very satisfying.

‘May I present my son James to you, Your Grace? James, this is the Duke of Rossenhall.’

‘Duke,’ repeated James.

‘That’s right,’ Max smiled, surprised at the pride he felt to have this little fellow sitting on his knee. He glanced at Ellen and said quietly, ‘I wanted to thank you, for agreeing to stay.’

She was sitting very upright and gazing resolutely ahead. She said coldly, ‘Mr and Mrs Arncliffe are my friends. I am doing this for their sake.’

‘Mrs Arncliffe is Lottie’s mama,’ Jamie informed him. ‘Lottie is my friend.’

‘Is she?’ said Max. ‘Well, Lottie’s papa is my friend, too. We have known each other since I was your age. We were soldiers together.’

Jamie fixed him with his steady gaze.

‘I want to be a soldier when I grow up. I want to wear a red coat and bang the drum.’

‘Really? Perhaps I should buy you a toy drum, so you can practise.’

‘Not until we live in a much larger house. One with very thick walls.’

Max laughed at Ellen’s interjection. ‘Mayhap you are right.’ He hesitated. ‘Is my presence upsetting you, ma’am?’

‘Not at all,’ she said politely. ‘What is it you wish to say to me, Your Grace?’

‘Why, nothing of moment.’

She bridled at that. ‘I thought you wished to talk to me. Anyone watching will think that I—that you—’

He could not resist teasing her.

‘They will conclude I am, er, smitten by your radiance, ma’am.’

Ellen glared. Max could see she was about to make a blistering retort, but as she opened her mouth little James piped up.

‘What is smitten, Mama?’

‘I think you had best ask the Duke, Jamie, since he used the word.’

‘Witch.’ He mouthed the word at her over the boy’s head and received a very false smile in return. ‘Well now, let me see. Smitten means enamoured, besotted.’ He heard Ellen’s scornful laugh and added gruffly, ‘Not that that is the case, of course.’ He saw that the boy was looking confused and felt compelled to explain. ‘People will think I consider your mama very beautiful.’

‘Mama is very beautiful,’ stated Jamie.

Max’s good mood was evaporating rapidly. He had thought her beautiful once, before he had known her true character.