Page 45 of The Hidden Heart

“You’ll be fine now. Just give it a little time.” Jessica rang for a maid, meaning to order hot tea for her patient, but right after that, a maid bustled in carrying a tray with a teapot and cups, as well as a bowl of warm stew.

The lady’s bags had not been brought up to her room yet, so Jessica went quickly down the hall to her room and pulled out one of her own warm flannel nightgowns and her dressing gown. She returned to Rachel’s room and helped her into the clothes, then warmed her up further with a cup of tea, followed by a bowl of the hearty stew. Gradually Rachel’s shivering stopped.

“The snow was terrible,” she told Jessica. “I should have told Stephens to turn back sooner, but I am afraid I am afflicted with the Aincourt stubbornness. I had delayed too long already, and I was worried that Lord Westhampton would be upset. He was probably expecting me there today. Now I cannot even send him a note.”

“Well, I am sure that your husband would much rather you were here safe than risking your life trying to get home in time.”

“Yes. No doubt. And Michael is a very calm man,” Rachel said, with what Jessica thought was a faintly wistful note in her voice. “He will probably realize that I am staying over because of the snowfall and not worry. He is quite pragmatic.”

She told Jessica how they had finally turned the coach around and were headed back toward the castle when her carriage had drifted off the road and gotten mired down in the ditch. Unsure anyone would happen by, the coachman had unharnessed the horses, and they had set out, riding the animals.

“I was greatly afraid we were going to get lost. It was all so featureless out there, with snow covering everything. Thank goodness Richard came looking for us.”

“He was very worried about you.”

Rachel smiled. “He is a good brother-in-law.”

But Jessica could not help but wonder if the duke’s feelings for Rachel were something more than those of a brother-in-law.

Gabriela came in to see how Rachel was doing, and then the two of them left in order to give Lady Westhampton a chance to sleep. They returned to the schoolroom, Gabriela chattering about the excitement of the visitors and the snow.

Jessica sank into a chair, and though she managed to respond to Gabriela’s conversation, her mind was largely occupied by the fact that Darius Talbot was in the house. What a bizarre twist of fate!

She rarely thought of the man, and certainly whatever feelings she once had for him had long since burned away. Indeed, she sometimes thought that the hurt and betrayal she had felt after he threw her over were actually stronger feelings than the love she had had for him during their betrothal. But seeing him here had jarred her. It was, to say the least, an awkward situation.

But, she reassured herself, it might be possible to avoid being around him. With all these people, the duke would surely not feel the need to have her as a buffer between him and the Veseys, and Rachel was, at least for the day, going to take her supper on a tray in bed. So she herself would be free to eat with Gabriela every day in the nursery. She wished now that they were still sleeping up there, for then she would have been even more isolated from Talbot. She was much more likely to run into him since their rooms were on the same floor. Miss Brown might put some of the uninvited guests on the third floor, but Jessica knew that she would not put Kestwick and Talbot there, as they were too obviously members of the upper class.

She would simply have to keep to her room as much as possible until they left, Jessica decided, even though it galled her to think of literally hiding from the man. But it would be the most uncomfortable situation to have to speak to him! Anything, she thought, would be better than that.

Of course, she reminded herself, Darius would have just as little desire to talk to her—perhaps even less. If he tried to avoid her, too, perhaps they might be able to keep from meeting.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Baxter, who came to her with the thorny problem of where to seat all their visitors at the dining table. Jessica understood the dilemma he faced. She felt sure that most of the passengers of the mail coach would never, in the ordinary course of their lives, be seated to eat with a duke. Only Kestwick and Talbot were of any sort of rank to be seated with Cleybourne, the Veseys and Lady Westhampton, and Jessica frankly was not sure enough of Kestwick’s rank to know where to place him among that group of people.

The coachman and his assistant would eat with the servants. But that left the other mail passengers to be sorted out. One could scarcely expect a man of the cloth to be seated with the servants, so he must go to the duke’s table. And Jessica could tell from the spinster’s demeanor that she would be horrified to be seated anywhere but at the main table. Mrs. Woods had seemed genteel and was certainly well dressed. Goodrich, the man who had arrived with the coachman’s assistant, would by his attire fit better with the servants, but it would be a terrible thing to make a mistake and put him there if he did not belong. Jessica had felt too many stings of embarrassment as a governess to subject anyone else to them.

“And there is another one now, miss,” Baxter put in, looking frazzled.

“Another? Who?”

“A man who arrived a short while ago on horseback. Cobb is his name, and I am sure I don’t know where he belongs, either. A rather rough-looking sort, though he is dressed well enough.”

“Have you asked the duke? It is, after all, his table.”

“Of course. He says only, ‘I am sure you will do what’s best, Baxter.’” He heaved a little sigh. “His Grace is sometimes too egalitarian, I’m afraid. I really do not think he cares where any of them sit.”

“Then I would say put them all at the main dining table and rank them as seems appropriate to you. My guess is that Kestwick is of higher degree than the Veseys, but even there, I am not sure. Mr. Talbot obviously has no title, and I am sure that he would not sit as high as the others. The rest—just put them farther down the table. If they are offended, it can’t be helped.”

“Yes, miss, thank you.” Baxter smiled at her, relieved, and hurried off.

Next it was Miss Brown who came to her to confide her worries about the rooms she had had made up and how she had allotted them, and Jessica did her best to mollify her fears, assuring her that whatever she had decided would not reflect badly on the duke. Jessica was not entirely certain of that statement, but she was sure that the duke would not care, anyway.

Lady Westhampton, when she awakened, invited Gabriela to dine with her in her room that evening, assuming that Jessica would be dining downstairs. Jessica decided that, to save the maids an extra trip, she would wait to eat until after the main meal had been served downstairs and would then just slip down to the kitchen and make up a tray herself.

She was sitting in her room, reading and trying to ignore her empty stomach, when there was a sharp rap on her door. She opened it, expecting to find Miss Brown or Baxter with another etiquette question, but to her surprise it was the Duke of Cleybourne himself who stood in front of her door.

“Your Grace! I—” She stopped, having no idea what to say.

“What the devil are you doing up here?” he asked ungraciously.