The Duke's Marriage Mission by Deborah Hale Page B

was in for another tantrum. The prospect threatened to overwhelm him. “Please go, Miss Shaw.”
    In spite of the please , it was not a request.
    “No!” Kit wailed. “I want her to stay. You should go away, Papa, not Miss Leah!”
    “But, Kit—”
    “ Now , Miss Shaw,” Hayden insisted as his son burst into angry howls.
    With obvious reluctance, she obeyed.
    He had hired the woman, against his better judgment, in an effort to prevent this sort of outburst, Hayden fumed as he struggled to settle his son. If it was going to happen either way, why should he bother to put up with Leah Shaw’s disruptive influence?

Chapter Four
     
    K it’s cries pursued Leah as she fled the nursery, even after she pulled the door shut behind her. Who would imagine such a delicate child could produce such a commotion? Vexed as she was with Lord Northam’s stiff hostility and smothering interference, she could not help but pity him for having to listen to those deafening shrieks.
    “It is his own fault!” she muttered as she returned to the peace and quiet of her distant room. “If he would just let us be, Kit and I would get on perfectly well. I thought we had a bargain.”
    She had assumed, when the duke agreed to hire her, it meant he was willing to give her a fair opportunity to teach his son. If she had known he intended to hover in the nursery, watching and criticizing her every move, she would never have consented to stay. Even when the duke was not openly finding fault with her, she was all too aware of his brooding disapproval.
    When she reached her quarters, Leah shut the door behind her with a bang, but it did little to relieve her feelings. More offenses rose in her mind, stoking her resentment of the duke.
    If he felt he must interrupt his son’s lessons, did he always have to sound so gruff? Not since leaving the Pendergast School had Leah felt so restricted in her actions or held in such severe contempt, no matter what she did. It made her respond the way she had at school—by employing impudent wit to lift the spirits of her fellow pupils and make them part of a covert rebellion against the forces of authority.
    Another reason she’d made light of the duke’s behavior was to disguise the true severity of their antagonism from his son. Today she had not been able to hide her mounting irritation. She’d allowed the veiled hostility between Lord Northam and her to spew forth. The result had been to upset Kit, which was precisely what she’d been trying to avoid.
    Leah flounced over to the window, where she planted her elbows on the sill and cradled her chin between her clenched fists. Perhaps if the duke was made to reap what he had sown, he might think twice about interrupting Kit’s lessons after this.
    On reflection, she knew it was foolish to hope Lord Northam might recognize that he was responsible for upsetting his son. Instead he would likely blame her and redouble his interference. Could she remain at Renforth Abbey under such intolerable conditions?
    No sooner had that thought blazed through her mind than Leah began to laugh at herself. “What would my friends think of me if I were to write them with complaints about my position here? I have been given a generous salary, an elegant room and the finest dining in exchange for two hours work a day and only a single pupil to teach. This is most governesses’ idea of paradise!”
    Counting her blessings helped to take the edge off Leah’s frustration, though not as much as she wished it would. The trouble was, she did not care about creature comforts as much as some people. The cold and hunger she’d endured at school had mattered less to her than the tyranny of the staff and the deadly dull routine. Long hours of idleness were no boon, either. Much as she sometimes pitied Evangeline for having charge of such a full nursery, Leah would have gladly changed places with her friend. How swiftly the days must fly for her friend with so many duties to occupy the