Page 21 of Miss Kimble Bites Back

“I’ll see you for dinner tonight,” the duke countered. Mamble rose and reached for the woman’s hand. “Come and find me if you want to talk later. I will be staying in all day, and night as well.”

Lady Cordelia’s smile was quick and then she excused herself from the room, rushing away so fast she could not have heard Gabby’s or Bennett’s hasty farewells.

The duke pursed his lips, clearly disappointed she’d gone, and then lowered himself to his chair again with a heavy sigh. “It was worth a try.”

Gabby narrowed her eyes at him. “A try?”

The duke’s eyes flashed dangerously, and she could tell he was angry with her for speaking out. He rested his arm on the table between them and growled, “She’s afraid of everyone but me.” And then he made a visible effort to control his temper. He moved back and shrugged. “My sister dislikes company. Her black moods can last for weeks. I had wondered, hoped, that an introduction to strangers might spark her curiosity.”

Gabby gaped. “Melancholy?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing like that.” Bennett whispered, leaning toward her.

“Then she is afraid of him,” Gabby insisted. “Afraid of putting a foot wrong in his presence like the rumors suggest.”

“Gabby!” Bennett chided quickly. “She did not mean that, your grace.”

The duke met her gaze, and when he spoke, a smile appeared. “Do you really believe Cordelia was kept as my prisoner, like every other fool does? They whisper of my cruelty. Tell everyone I keep her locked up day and night.” He shook his head.” Of course, you believed them. Why else would you so eagerly come? To gawk and stare.”

“No one sees her,” she whispered.

“She won’t see people. Not here, not anywhere, unless she is surprised by their arrival like today. Ask Esme how often Cordelia is at home to her. They were close once.” Mamble looked past her to address Bennett. “Sir, I believe I promised you a private word. Come along to my study now. Miss Kimble can remain here. I assure you the servants will take good care of her while you are gone. They won’t even lock her in.”

“Your grace—” she began quickly.

But the duke cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand and a growl of enough and headed out the door.

“That was not well done, Gabby. Not well done at all,” Bennett chided, and he patted her shoulder awkwardly as he passed her chair, dutifully following the duke from the room for his private meeting.

Gabby kept her back straight until she could no longer hear him and then slumped, filled with shame. She ought to have given him the benefit of the doubt. If she had known more, though, she might not have been so quick to judge, too. Gabby was no stranger to melancholy. Her papa had suffered. Suffered in silence, with only Gabby becoming aware of his struggles much too late to have done him any good.

If Cordelia was afflicted like her own father, then she understood why no one saw the woman. The duke had her sympathy, for what it was worth.

She pushed back from her chair and stood, angry with herself for listening to gossip. For believing Justine and her older sister about the situation here without question. She had wronged the duke and Lady Cordelia, too.

Clearly, the duke liked his sister. They took breakfast together every day and dined together too. He urged her to eat, although the lady had no great appetite. The duke had gently tried to engage her in conversation and begged her to stay.

Gabby paced the room in agitation. Guilt eating her up and wondering what she could do about that. Her friend Justine and others were spreading gossip that was so very wrong.

At Cordelia’s chair, she happened to glance down and noticed the napkin that would have been on the woman’s lap; it was wrinkled from being twisted by nervous hands. Papa had done that toward the end, too.

Had Gabby and Bennett’s arrival been the cause of her anxiety, or was that an everyday habit? Papa had done it every day, and when he was alone, too. He had also refused to let his chambers be cleaned properly, adding more and more possessions with each passing year.

It broke Gabby’s heart that a woman as beautiful and gentle as Lady Cordelia appeared to be, could be, afraid of company.

She closed her eyes.

Afraid of her.

Papa had been like that sometimes but, being a man, he could be rude and curt with friends and family and not be thought odd for a long time. Somehow, she had to make things right. She had angered the duke today, and he would be in the right to wash his hands of their acquaintance entirely. She’d proven herself to be no better than a fool. If only she had not assumed the worst of the situation. Yet so many people in society whispered about Mamble—and so unfairly. She must apologize to him and try to make things better between them immediately. She would freely admit that to him today.

Gabby headed for the door and stepped out into the hall. To her right was the twisting path she’d taken to get here.

To the left, the unknown.

But then the duke emerged from a chamber down the hall, striding out to cross to another room with a book in his hand. He saw her standing there and paused, a frown on his face. Gabby squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Your grace.”

He came toward her slowly, scowling. “Is something wrong, Miss Kimble?”