Page 26 of The Hidden Heart

He said it to comfort Gabriela, but then he was struck by the truth of his words. He had become so accustomed to grief that he had scarcely noticed the ways in which it had gotten better.

“Good.” Gabriela gave him a smile and moved a step away. “I—I’m glad I met you.”

“So am I.” He started to turn back, then paused and said, “Perhaps…”

“Yes?” Gabriela looked at him eagerly.

“I had been about to take a walk around the garden when Baxter told me about the conclave in the drawing room. I am sure they won’t miss me if I take it now. Perhaps you…might accompany me. I could tell you about your father. Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes!” Gabriela clapped her hands together, her eyes shining. “I would like that above anything!”

Richard smiled. “Right. Then run get your coat, and we’ll sneak out the back door.”

CHAPTER 6

The minutes crawled past as the three occupants of the formal drawing room sat stiffly, saying little, each thinking their own thoughts. Jessica could not imagine where the duke had gone. It had appeared that he intended to follow Gabriela and speak to her. There were a few faint tendrils of hope inside Jessica that he had decided to accept the girl. She knew that even though Gabriela had taken Cleybourne’s avoidance of her with a good deal of grace, the girl would dearly love it if he paid a little attention to her. On the other hand, she could not help but reflect sourly that he had managed to leave Jessica with the burden of enduring the Veseys’ company.

Vesey said little, clearly bored, and though Lady Vesey made some conversation, it was invariably about herself, primarily the dreadful inconveniences of being laid up in bed with a sore ankle.

“The doctor says it isn’t broken,” she told them, her raised eyebrows bespeaking how little she trusted his expertise. “But I cannot imagine how it cannot be—a mere sprain could not cause such pain.”

Jessica cast a glance at Leona’s ankle, raised up on a pillow, the hem of her dress sliding away to reveal the fetchingly bare appendage. “Remarkable, how little your ankle is bruised or swollen,” she commented dryly.

Leona’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Jessica. “Yes, isn’t it? I am very fortunate that way.”

“Well, country doctors are not always the best,” Jessica commiserated. “Perhaps you should go to London—so that you can see a much better doctor.”

Intense dislike sizzled in Leona’s eyes. “And perhaps you should learn to keep your mouth shut when you are in the company of your betters.”

“Oh, I do,” Jessica replied smoothly.

It took a moment for Leona to understand the insult Jessica had just handed her. Then, before she could make a furious reply, there was the sound of footsteps in the hall, and Duncan, one of the footmen, walked into the room, beaming with delight.

“Your Grace! Lady Westhampton has arrived.” He came to a stop, looking about the room in a puzzled way.

A tall woman entered the room after him. She wore a black wool mantle, trimmed in sable, the hood pushed back to reveal her face. She was a striking woman, with bright green eyes and hair as black as her cloak. “Rich—”

She too stopped as she saw that Cleybourne was not in the room. Her gaze fell on Jessica, puzzled, then traveled on to Leona. She stiffened, one elegantly arched eyebrow flying up in astonishment. The surprise she felt upon seen Lady Vesey was patently not pleasant.

“I beg your pardon, my lady,” Duncan apologized. “I thought the duke was in here. I—I will find him and tell him you are here. May I take your coat?”

“Thank you,” the woman said with a gracious smile, taking off her mantle and handing it to the man before she turned back to face Leona. Her fashionable dress was a vivid emerald that made her eyes seem even greener.

“Well, Lady Vesey.” Her voice was as brittle and colorless as winter leaves. “I must say, it is something of a surprise to find you here.” She gave a short nod in the direction of Leona’s spouse. “Lord Vesey.”

She turned to Jessica, saying in a carefully neutral voice, “Hello. I am Rachel, Lady Westhampton. I am Cleybourne’s sister-in-law.”

“How do you do? I am Jessica Maitland.”

“She is a governess,” Leona said dismissively.

“A governess?” Rachel repeated blankly.

“Yes. My pupil is the duke’s ward.”

The other woman looked even more at sea. She glanced at Leona, as if for confirmation, and Lady Vesey shrugged.

“Yes. The girl is a relative of Vesey’s.”