Free Simply Love by Mary Balogh

ever expected—or felt she deserved—after those long, lean years.
    She hoped Mr. Butler had some close friends.
    â€œCome and have tea, Anne,” Joshua said, appearing suddenly at her side. “I hope you are enjoying your stay here.”
    â€œOh.” She smiled at him. “I am, yes, thank you, Joshua.”
    But most of all, Miss Jewell, they need a mother. I daresay you did the right thing in coming here with him.
    The remembered words that Mr. Butler had spoken warmed and comforted her. She
had
done the right thing. David had been animated and happy all day long with the other children. But he had hugged her when she went to say good night to him before dressing for dinner.
    â€œThank you, Mama,” he had said, “for bringing me here. I am so glad we came.”
    We,
not
I
.
    She would suffer the discomfort and embarrassment of the month here only to see David happy—for though he was well loved at the school by staff and girls alike,
he
had no close friends.
    And no father.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    Sydnam was busy for most of the next day. It was never hard to find things to do. But now, in addition to his usual routine, there was Bewcastle to accompany on a morning inspection of the home farm and calls at a few of the tenant farms. The duke might spend very little time on his Welsh estate, but he knew all there was to know about it, since he conscientiously studied each monthly report that Sydnam sent him. And whenever he did visit, he spent only a little time poring over the books and a great deal of time riding and tramping about the land observing and talking with the people.
    But Bewcastle was now also a husband, and it intrigued Sydnam to find that he returned home at noon because the duchess had arranged a picnic on the beach for everyone during the afternoon. The old Bewcastle would not have dreamed of participating in such frolics.
    The Duchess of Bewcastle seemed like a very ordinary person to Sydnam. She was pretty without being beautiful, trim and smart without being elegant, courteous and amiable without being overrefined or in any way domineering. She was vivacious and filled with laughter. And she was the daughter of a country schoolmaster. She was, in fact, the very antithesis of the woman one would have expected Wulfric to choose for a bride—which fact left Sydnam wondering about the strange power she seemed to wield over him. Good Lord, he had even noticed Bewcastle
smiling
at her once last evening.
    She made Sydnam feel lonely. Not that he fancied her himself. But it must be wonderful beyond belief, he thought, to have someone to go home to after work, someone for whom to cut the workday short on occasion, even for something as seemingly unimportant as a picnic on the beach. It must be wonderful to have someone to draw one’s smiles.
    And there was a baby in Bewcastle’s nursery.
    He avoided the beach and the cliff top above it and the lawns leading to it all afternoon. He was not, after all, a member of the house party, and besides, he did not want to frighten any of the children. He kept himself busy on the home farm, being reluctant to spend a sunny, warm day indoors when it so often rained along the coast of South Wales.
    Late in the afternoon, though, when he was riding back to the cottage, he could see that a noisy game of cricket was in progress on the lawn before the main house and that there appeared to be a vast number of people of all sizes involved. The picnic on the beach was obviously over.
    It would be safe to go there himself.
    He loved the beach. He loved the cliff tops too, but the perspective was different. From the cliff top one was aware of the wildness of nature, the potential cruelty of it, the panoramic beauty of it, with the land above and the sea stretched beneath and spreading to a far horizon, beyond which lay the coast of Cornwall and beyond that the coast of France and the