The Deceptive Lady Darby (Lost Ladies of London 2)

The thought broke his heart.

He should have noticed the signs in the beginning, th

e tell-tale quirks that confirmed his wife was a vain, selfish woman who derived gratification from the attention of other men. But he’d been a fool, pressured into marrying based on nothing more than wealth and status.

And his children were the ones paying the ultimate price for his stupidity.

“Where shall we sit?” Rose placed the basket on the grass. She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the area. “What about near those trees? There’s shade, and it’s still close enough to the water’s edge.”

“As you’ve come without a bonnet, anywhere out of the direct sunlight will be suitable.” He would speak to Mrs Hibbet on their return and send Rose into Abberton to purchase a few necessary items. He pointed to the cluster of trees in the distance. “I once carved my initials on the trunk of one of those trees.”

“Which one, Papa?” Jacob spoke for the first time since leaving the house.

“I can’t remember. See if you can find it.”

He hoped to have a moment alone with Rose, to thank her for not leaving on the first mail coach to London. To apologise for his son’s appalling antics. But Alice gripped Rose’s hand and tugged.

“Come on, Rose. The first one to find Papa’s name gets the biggest piece of cake.”

His children obsessed over sweet treats. In the end, they all hurried across the grass to the copse.

“Here it is!” Jacob cried, thoroughly pleased to be the first to find the markings.

They all gathered around the trunk. The children took it in turns to trace the indents with their finger. It occurred to him that Rose knew him only as Lord Farleigh.

“The letters stand for Christian Knight,” he informed her.

With wide eyes, she repeated his name as she perused him from head to toe. “Your surname is Knight? As in the heroes sent to rescue damsels in distress?”

The comment confirmed what he already suspected: she had a romantic view of the world. When Rose loved a man, he imagined she would give everything of herself, hold nothing back.

Christian cleared his throat. “As in a man known for his chivalrous conduct.”

“Do you always act with honourable intentions, my lord?”

The question caught him off guard. Was she teasing him or testing him? Should it be the latter, he’d fail miserably. If he told her what he’d thought about as he lay naked between the bed sheets last night, his declaration would prove false.

“Let’s just say that I may have a few things to confess at church this Sunday, but on the whole, I try to abide by my principles.” The sound of scratching forced him to tear his gaze away from her. Jacob had found a stick and was busy carving his initials, too. “Not too hard. You only want to leave an imprint in the bark not strip it away.”

“This will be a record of the day we spent at the lake,” Jacob said.

“Write mine, Jacob.” Alice tapped his arm. “Put it next to yours. And do Rose’s name, too.”

Rose snorted. “No, there’s no need to carve mine. Just think of the poor tree.”

“We were all here together.” Christian picked up a stick and handed it to Rose. “You must put your initials else it will not be an accurate representation.”

She pursed her lips, took one look at the children’s excited faces, muttered a few incoherent words and began carving.

Christian watched with bated breath. The urge to learn anything he could about the new governess burned in his chest. “Is that supposed to be a letter O or a D?”

“Isn’t it obvious.” Rose squinted as she studied her craftsmanship. “It’s a D.”

“D for what?”

Rose raised a brow. “D for don’t ask so many questions.”

Alice put her hand over her mouth and giggled.