The Duke's Marriage Mission by Deborah Hale Page A

his age took for granted.
    “Very good, indeed,” Miss Shaw commended her young pupil. “Now what if Gulliver sneezed and three of the soldiers ran away in terror? How many would be left to stand guard?”
    Kit considered the question for a moment, perhaps counting the remaining figures under his breath. Then he announced in a triumphant tone, “Six!”
    “Correct! It seems you are naturally clever with numbers.”
    Hayden knew Kit’s governess must be smiling down at him with warm admiration that no male could resist, be he seven years old...or seven and thirty. No doubt the boy was gazing back up at her with the eager devotion of a puppy, prepared to do anything she asked.
    “Now try this one,” Miss Shaw continued. “If the emperor decided the conditions placed upon Gulliver’s release were too numerous and removed the last five, how many would be left on the list?”
    Again Kit silently pondered the question. As the pause stretched longer and longer, Hayden grew increasingly anxious. It was not a fair question at all. How could a child who had only begun to count be expected to subtract such a sum? Was Miss Shaw deliberately trying to discourage him? Hayden began to mouth the answer, hoping it would somehow communicate itself to his son.
    At last he could stand it no longer. “Four, Kit. The answer is four. Nine items on the list minus five. It was far too difficult a question for you.”
    “No, it wasn’t!” the child protested. “I was about to say four when you shouted it out first. Truly I was, Miss Leah.”
    “Of course you were, Kit. It is always a good idea to think carefully about a question before you give an answer. Your father was a trifle impatient, that’s all.” Mild as her words sounded, Hayden felt the sting of her reproach.
    “Papa thought I could not figure it out on my own,” Kit complained bitterly. “He does not believe I can do anything !”
    “Now, son.” Hayden rose and approached the bed. “You know that is not true.”
    “It is!” Kit glared at him with stormy defiance that smote Hayden a cruel blow. “I wish you would go away and stop interrupting, Papa. These are my lessons, not yours.”
    “Of course they are, son. I only meant—”
    “Pardon me, Your Grace.” Miss Shaw cut him off. “But perhaps the two of you could settle this later, after Kit and I are finished our work.”
    He would not be ordered about in his own house by this interloper!
    “You are finished, Miss Shaw. At least, you should be.” Hayden stabbed his forefinger in the direction of the mantel clock. “This lesson has already run a quarter of an hour past its time. Every day this week your lessons have exceeded the time we agreed upon. Every lesson has gone on longer than the last. Keep it up and you will have my son working ’round the clock.”
    Leah Shaw thrust out her pert chin. “I only extended my teaching time to compensate for your constant interrup—”
    “It will not do.” Hayden broke in before she could finish. “Today’s lesson is over.”
    “That’s not fair, Papa!” Kit pushed the box away, scattering his Lilliputian figures over the bedspread. A few tumbled onto the floor. “I enjoy my lessons. I don’t want to stop!”
    “Hush now, Kit.” His governess tried to soothe the boy. “We can continue our work tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow is Sunday,” Hayden reminded her. “At Renforth Abbey, we keep the Sabbath. There will be no lessons on Sundays.”
    “Is that because of God?” Kit demanded. “Then I don’t like him! He made me a cripple and now he won’t let me have my lessons.”
    “Kit!” Hayden was not certain which dismayed him more, his son’s rejection of the Almighty or his use of that horrible word.
    “Now, Kit.” Miss Shaw persisted in her effort to calm the tempest she had provoked. “I am certain you don’t mean that.”
    “I do! I do!” Kit pounded on the bed with surprising strength and his eyes began to fill with tears.
    Hayden knew he