The Hidden Heart (13 page)

“Of course not. It’s absurd,” Rachel agreed.

Jessica glanced at Gabriela and saw the pleased surprise on her face—and more than a touch of hero worship. She could only hope that Cleybourne did decide to remain her guardian. She could see that Gabriela would be crushed now if he shunted her off to someone else.

They had finished their tea, and Jessica excused herself and Gabriela, saying it was time they returned to their lessons. Lady Westhampton bade them goodbye, stating the usual polite pleasantries with obvious sincerity.

“I like Miss Maitland,” Rachel told her brother-in-law. She watched him carefully as she went on. “Though she hardly seems like a governess. She is far too beautiful. Don’t you agree?”

Richard, whose gaze had remained on the doorway through which Gabriela and Jessica had walked, glanced at Rachel. “What? Yes, I suppose so,” he said with studied casualness. “I never much cared for redheads myself.”

“She seems genteel, as well.”

“Genteel? I don’t know whether I’d term her that, exactly. But she comes from a good family, if that is what you mean. Uncle’s a lord, but her father was involved in some sort of scandal several years ago, lost all their money and position.”

“How sad.”

“Yes. It is why she became a governess.”

“Well, I like her,” Rachel reiterated. “She has a forthright manner, but she is quite pleasant, too, and rather humorous.”

Richard snorted. “Oh, she is certainly forthright. She is the most damnably forthright woman I have ever had the ill fortune to meet.”

“You do not like her?”

He grunted. “She says whatever she thinks, without the slightest regard to politeness or tact. She is argumentative and stubborn in the extreme. I cannot imagine how she ever kept a position as governess. General Streathern must have been the most patient and undemanding employer in the country.”

“You don’t think she is a good governess?” Rachel asked innocently. “Perhaps you should get rid of her, then. You wouldn’t want your ward having an unsuitable or ill-prepared governess.”

“I can’t do that,” Richard protested. “She has been with the child since she was eight. Gabriela has had enough people taken away from her already. I could not take away Miss Maitland, as well.”

He hesitated. Now, he knew, was the time to tell his sister-in-law that he did not plan to be Gabriela’s guardian. It was, after all, one of the main reasons he was reluctant to let Gabriela’s governess go. Surely Rachel would understand why he did not want to have a child around, a constant reminder of his own loss. Of course, it had not hurt as much as he had thought it would to meet Gabriela and talk with her. There had been some pain, inevitably, but she was so different from Alana in age and looks, so much her own entertaining person, that after he had been around her for a few minutes, he had found himself no longer thinking of her in relation to his dead daughter but simply as herself. It might not be the horror he had dreaded to have her around day after day.

But, he reminded himself, there was still the problem of carrying out his plans. He could not take his pistol and seek his own quiet peace until he had gotten Gabriela and Miss Maitland away from the house. It would be far too cruel a thing to do to the young girl.

And here Rachel was, presenting him with the perfect opportunity to ask her and Michael to take over the task for him, yet he could not bring himself to do it. It was too abrupt, he thought; that was the reason for his reluctance. He should give Rachel more time to get to know and like Gabriela. She would readily accept her as her ward if she had already come to like her. That reasoning made sense, even if there was a niggling doubt inside him.

For her part, Rachel watched her brother-in-law struggle with some inner turmoil. She was very fond of him, and she would have liked to help him, but she was sure that right now it would be better for her not to. She was not sure if Miss Maitland was right that they had coddled Richard too much, that he needed to be challenged. But she suspected that what he needed just might be Miss Maitland. She had seen him looking at the governess in a different way from the way she had seen him look at any other woman. Miss Maitland might irritate him, but Rachel thought that she intrigued him, also. And she did not for a moment believe that disinterested pose of his, as if he had not noticed what a stunner the woman was. There was a decided undercurrent of something in his tone when he spoke of the woman—or
to
her, for that matter.

There was that thing about the scandal, of course, but, frankly, Rachel did not care if Miss Maitland herself had been in a scandal if she could help Richard out of the deep well of pain he had been living in the past four years.

She almost wished she were not committed to go to Westhampton for Christmas. It might be quite interesting to stay here and watch what happened.

U
pstairs, Gabriela was bubbling about her visit with the duke.

“He was ever so nice, Miss Jessie, and he told me stories about my father. He even apologized! He said he had been rude, and that it was wrong of him. Can you imagine?”

Jessica smiled at her charge, enjoying the unabashed happiness on Gabriela’s face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling, and she was talking with her old vivacity. It was heartening to see the weight of her sorrow lifted for the moment. “It was very good of him,” she said now. “Exactly what he should have done.”

“He wasn’t at all high in the instep, either. You would think a duke would be, wouldn’t you? But he didn’t seem proud or self-important. Just sad. He explained about his daughter and how he thought it would hurt to see me, because I would make him think of her. But then he invited me on the walk anyway. Do you think he will change his mind and let us stay now?” Gabriela looked at Jessica hopefully.

Jessica shrugged. “I don’t know. Lady Westhampton is here, and I think it is she—and her husband—who he hopes will take over your care. He might go ahead and ask her.”

“She seemed very nice,” Gabriela admitted. “But I would rather stay here. Wouldn’t you? I liked the duke.”

“Well, I imagine that Lady Westhampton would have to ask her husband about the matter before she gave him any answer, and perhaps in the next few weeks the duke will change his mind.”

“I hope so.”

Jessica decided that it was pointless to try to continue any lessons with Gabriela that afternoon, so she allowed her to read until it was time for their supper. Jessica knew that she should probably use the time to work on her plans for Gabriela’s studies this week, but she was having a little difficulty concentrating this afternoon, as well. Finally she settled down to do some mending, which would leave her mind free to ponder the events of the afternoon.

She was surprised when one of the maids knocked on the door and handed her a note stating that her attendance at supper that evening was requested by the duke. She had assumed that since Lady Westhampton had arrived, Cleybourne would not feel the need to use her as a buffer against the Veseys again.

She understood it better, however, a few minutes later, when Lady Westhampton breezed into the nursery with her maid in tow. The lady’s maid carried three dresses in her arms, which Lady Westhampton directed her to spread out on Jessica’s bed.

“You are coming to supper tonight, aren’t you?” Rachel asked Jessica.

“Yes. It seems I am expected to. But I really don’t see why it is necessary.”

“You jest. Safety in numbers, you know. That is important when Leona is around. And you can be sure that she and her ‘broken’ ankle will manage to make it down to the dining room. She will spend the whole time monopolizing Richard. That is how she always is, which will leave me with no one to talk to except Lord Vesey. You have to come so that I can have some decent conversation.”

“I see.” Jessica smiled, but she could not help but feel a certain letdown at the realization that it had been Lady Westhampton who wanted her there, not Cleybourne.

“And I assumed that you probably had not brought any dresses suitable for formal dining,” Rachel went on.

Jessica thought glumly of her best black dress. She would feel like a crow beside Lady Vesey’s bright beauty.

“So I thought I would lend you one of mine.”

“Oh, I couldn’t….”

“It would be no bother. Frankly, I am rarely able to lend my clothes to anyone because of my height. But you are a tall woman, too, and they should fit you. And since you are coming down to suffer through a meal with Lord and Lady Vesey in order to help me, it only seems fair that I should help you.”

Jessica hesitated, torn. The sight of the lovely jewel-toned gowns laid out on her bed was tempting. One was a deep royal-blue velvet, low necked as formal gowns usually were, with long sleeves, puffed at the shoulders, then fitting closely the rest of the way down. She knew at once that it would suit her coloring immensely, bringing out the deep blue of her eyes. The other two were no less beautiful. It was clear that Lady Westhampton had a good eye for fashion and just as clear that she had picked out dresses that would look good with Jessica’s red hair and milky-white skin.

“Try them on. Tilly will help.”

“Oh! How gorgeous!” Gabriela exclaimed from the doorway. Curious about Rachel’s visit, she had abandoned the novel she was reading and drawn closer to them. Now she walked to the bed and looked the dresses over admiringly. “These are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Rachel responded. “I am lending them to Miss Maitland to wear at supper, since she will be dining with us tonight.”

“Really?” Gabriela smiled at Jessica. “How exciting. Which one are you going to wear?”

“I—well, perhaps I could try on the blue one.” Jessica could not bear not to see how it looked on her.

“Excellent. Gabriela and I shall be judges. Why don’t we retire to the schoolroom and have a nice chat, Gabriela, while Tilly helps Miss Maitland dress?”

Jessica took off her own plain dress and let Rachel’s maid help her into the blue velvet gown. It fit almost perfectly, and the feel of it was luxurious against her skin. Rachel’s and Gabriela’s reactions were everything she could have hoped for, but she could not see it herself. The mirror above the chest in her room was very small—governesses, after all, were not expected to indulge in vanity—and no matter how she twisted and turned or where she stood, she could see only bits and pieces of it. Even Gabriela’s room possessed no large mirror, so Lady Westhampton swept them all downstairs to her room, where a long oval mirror stood.

“Oh…” Jessica breathed, gazing at her reflection. She knew there was no way she could refuse to wear the dress now. For this moment, she was the girl she had been ten years ago—no, even better, for such deep rich colors were never allowed on girls just out.
Or perhaps it was that there were depths in her face that had not been there at eighteen.

Her fair skin was lustrous against the dress, and its color turned her eyes even bluer. High waisted, it emphasized the full curves of her breasts, and the neckline dipped low enough to allow a glimpse of their swelling tops.

Rachel smiled, knowing that Jessica would not protest against wearing it anymore. “Why don’t you let Tilly put your hair up? She is an absolute wizard with hair.”

“She hasn’t tried mine,” Jessica retorted ruefully. “It has a mind of its own.”

“Now you’ve offered her a challenge. Sit down here at my vanity, and let’s see what she can do.”

So they sat in Lady Westhampton’s room, Gabriela and Jessica and Rachel, and talked and giggled like schoolgirls, while Tilly worked her art on Jessica’s hair. When she was finished, Jessica had to admit that Tilly was indeed an artist. With a narrow blue ribbon and strategically placed pins, she had coaxed and smoothed and twisted Jessica’s hair into a charming confection of curls.

“I cannot wait to see Leona’s face,” Rachel said with delight.

They had that pleasure not long afterward, when they went downstairs to supper together. Cleybourne was waiting in the small drawing room with Lord Vesey, looking about as pleasant as Jessica would have expected for a person who had been forced to endure Vesey’s company for the past several minutes. Vesey was engaged in a monologue concerning the properties of Madeira, a particularly good bottle of which he had recently consumed at Lord Bashersham’s house, a discourse that, from the look on Cleybourne’s face, had apparently been going on for some time.

When they entered the room, Cleybourne jumped up gratefully. “Rachel. Miss Mait—” He turned toward her as he said her name, really seeing her for the first time, and his words died in his throat. He stared at her for a moment, then seemed to realize that his mouth was still open and closed it sharply. He cleared his throat. “Miss Maitland. How charming you ladies look this evening.”

Beside Jessica, Rachel smothered a smile and said casually, “Why, thank you, Richard. Good evening, Lord Vesey.” Her greeting to the other man dropped in temperature noticeably.

“Lady Westhampton.” Vesey bowed to her and gave Jessica a perfunctory nod of the head.

Richard turned toward Vesey. “Are you certain your wife is joining us, Vesey? It seems a great deal of effort for someone who feels as poorly as she does.”

“Ah, well, you know Leona,” Vesey replied vaguely.

“Not really,” Richard replied shortly. “Why don’t we wait for her in the dining room? It will be easier for the footmen to carry her straight there.”

They spent the next fifteen minutes waiting idly in the dining room for Lady Vesey to make an appearance. Lord Vesey started to expand his discourse to include the wonderful qualities of brandy.

Richard grimaced and moved quickly to cut him off. “Hardly the topic to discuss with ladies present, Vesey. Rachel, do tell us about Ravenscar’s progress with Darkwater. I understand they are intent on bringing it back to its former state.”

Rachel obliged him by describing the renovations going on at her ancestral home. Vesey slumped in his chair sulkily, lifting his spoon to study his reflection in it. Jessica tried to keep the conversation going by asking questions, but she was rather distracted by the fact that Cleybourne was looking at her throughout the discussion. She could feel his gaze all through her, and she wondered what he was thinking. She wondered what she wanted him to be thinking.

Finally Lady Vesey arrived, looking, Jessica thought, rather silly being carried between the two footmen. She was wearing a filmy gold dress that accentuated her coloring, more appropriate, in Jessica’s mind, to a fancy London ball than to a quiet dinner in the country. Unlike Jessica’s and Rachel’s long-sleeved velvet dresses, suitable for the colder weather, her dress covered as little of her arms and chest as was possible. The sleeves were little puffs of sheer material through which one could see Leona’s shoulders, and the scoop neckline was so low as to be almost indecent. Jessica also saw, faintly shocked, that it was obvious Leona wore no petticoat or even a chemise beneath her dress, for one could see the dark circles of her nipples. She had heard from her friend Viola that such was the extreme of fashion among the faster set of ladies in London, some of them even going so far as to dampen their dresses so that they clung more provocatively to their figures, but this was the first time she had seen someone dressed this way.

“Lady Vesey,” Rachel said innocently, “I am afraid you will catch cold in such a summery dress. Shall I ring for a servant to bring you a shawl?”

Leona smiled at her with a sweetness as false as Rachel’s concern. “No, that’s quite all right, Lady Westhampton. Perhaps you are cold, but I am afraid that I am a very warm creature.” She cast a sideways glance at Richard as she said this, and the sexual connotation of her words was clear.

Richard ruined the effect by saying pragmatically, “Well, I hope you don’t regret it, Lady Vesey. You are not accustomed to a Yorkshire winter. You’re likely to come down with a head cold.”

Jessica bit back a smile and said agreeably, “Yes. Nasty things, head colds—all that sneezing and coughing and red noses.”

Leona shot Jessica a dismissive glance, then froze, her eyes widening in surprise, and her gaze was transformed into one of pure dislike. She turned back to Richard, smiling brightly.

As Rachel had predicted, Leona monopolized the conversation during their meal. But Jessica had the satisfaction of noticing that even while Leona was talking to him, Cleybourne’s gaze kept sliding over to herself. That—and Leona’s increasingly sour glances at her—were enough to make the evening a success.

She excused herself when the meal was over—no matter how much she liked Rachel, Jessica refused to subject herself to Lady Vesey’s malicious presence all evening—and made her way upstairs.

Gabriela wanted to know all about the supper and how Jessica’s dress had gone over, and they chatted as Gabriela helped unbutton the elegant gown Jessica had worn. Jessica changed into a nightgown and put on her dressing gown against the chill, then went to Gabriela’s room to tuck Gabriela into bed and read to her for a few minutes, a nighttime ritual for the past six years, which they found equally satisfying.

Afterward, Jessica went to bed herself. She was accustomed to rising early, having taken care of a child for six years, and as a consequence she was usually in bed early. But tonight she had trouble going to sleep after she lay down. She kept thinking about the way Cleybourne had been looking at her throughout supper—and the way his gaze had made her feel, the tingling awareness of her body. He was an impossible man, of course, but there was something about him….

It was a long time before she fell asleep.

A noise intruded on Jessica’s unconscious, and she opened her eyes. For a moment she lay there, confused and still half-asleep. Then there was another noise—the scrape of a chair leg across the floor, as if someone had bumped into it.
Someone was in the nursery!

She remembered then that she had not locked the door to the nursery tonight, as she had last night. She had been too preoccupied with her thoughts about Cleybourne and the evening.

Silently cursing her own inattention, she slipped out of bed and crossed the room on tiptoe. Carefully Jessica turned her doorknob and eased the door open an inch, just enough to put one eye to the door and peer out. What she saw there made her breath catch in her throat. A large dark form was standing on the other side of the nursery, right outside Gabriela’s door.