The Hidden Heart (2 page)

Jessica was glad to see her charge so happy, but deep inside she could not keep from having a few doubts herself. The General might have awakened and seemed his old self. He might regain his full strength. But Jessica had noticed, even if Gabriela had not, that the left side of the old man’s face had not moved much when he talked, and his left hand had not curled around Gabriela’s in response to her taking it in hers. He had been unconscious for some time, and if nothing else, he was bound to be far weaker than normal. He was an old man, and the old were always susceptible to fevers and coughs, especially when they were weakened by illness.

She worried about the General, not only because she was fond of the him, but also because his sudden illness had brought home to her how vulnerable Gabriela was. Underage, orphaned, she might very well be left to the mercies of such people as the Veseys. Jessica had taken care of Gabriela, been her companion, teacher and confidante since the girl was eight, and she loved her as if she were her own sister. But in the eyes of the world, hers was only a paid position, and if the General died, whoever became Gabriela’s guardian could terminate Jessica’s employment, and she would have no recourse. She had worried over the matter ever since the General fell ill.

Gabriela went upstairs with the promise that she would work on the studies she had neglected during her great-uncle’s illness, and Jessica turned into the kitchen to find the butler, Pierson, and inform him of the General’s miraculous recovery and his subsequent banishment of the Veseys. Nothing, she knew, could make the servants happier than those two events.

As she expected, the butler beamed when she told him what had taken place in the General’s bedchamber upstairs and assured her that he would assign two maids, not one, to packing up the Veseys’ baggage and would personally escort them to their carriage.

Jessica returned to the nursery upstairs, where her and Gabriela’s bedrooms lay, separated by the schoolroom. As she passed the Veseys’ room, she heard the sound of something breaking, followed by Leona’s high-pitched, angry voice and Lord Vesey’s lower-pitched but no less furious one. Jessica smiled to herself and continued on her way.

The doctor left, and not long after that, Lord and Lady Vesey also quit the house. Humphrey, the General’s valet, stayed by the old man’s side throughout the rest of the day and that night, relieved—after great resistance—for a few hours at a stretch when Jessica or the butler or the housekeeper took over his role of nursemaid.

The General slept much of that time, waking up now and then to complain of feeling hungry and devouring first a bowl of consommé, then gruel and, finally, demanding soup with some substance to it. With each irascible command or gripe, the spirits of the household lightened. The General was becoming more and more normal.

Jessica visited the old man with her charge every morning and evening, and she could see visible improvement in him each time. She was very happy, not only for Gabriela’s sake, but because she was fond of the General. When the scandal broke and her father was cashiered out of the army, most of their acquaintances and friends, even the man she had thought loved her, had turned away from her, but General Streathern had not. He had come to pay his condolences after her father’s death, a courtesy few other of his military friends had seen fit to exercise.

Her father’s death had left Jessica penniless. She had refused to seek the help of her father’s family, who had scorned him after the scandal. For a time she had stayed with her dead mother’s brother, but it had been an untenable situation. He had five daughters of his own, all coming up to marriageable age and making their debuts. The last thing they needed was another young female about the place, and Jessica, whose father had raised her to be strong-minded and independent, was accustomed to running a household, not living meekly in one. She and her aunt did not get along, and she had soon seen that she could not live with them, either. There had followed a series of positions as governess or companion, but she was generally considered too young or too attractive or too tainted by scandal to be hired, and when she was, she often found herself leaving because of the unwelcome advances of a male of the house.

It had struck Jessica as grimly ironic that she, who had struggled through her younger years as a gawky, clumsy ugly duckling of a girl, had now somehow become the unwelcome object of male lust. She knew that the development of her late-blooming figure had had something to do with it, but she had difficulty recognizing that her despised riot of flame-colored hair was a lure to men, or that her features, once too large for her face, had matured into striking beauty. So, rather cynically, she laid the bulk of the blame for her attraction for men on the fact that they were drawn to her because she was no longer under her father’s protection. They wanted her, in short, she decided, because they thought she was an easy target now, a woman who was at their mercy because she had to work for a living.

Dismayed and embittered, she had stopped applying for positions as a governess and had managed to scrape out a living taking in fancy sewing. She had a good eye and hand for needlework, and when she swallowed her pride and went humbly asking for work, a number of women of wealth and position had paid for beautiful embroidery. Still it was a difficult and minimal living, and there were times when she despaired. Winters were the worst, for it cost more to live, as she had to heat her small room. She tried to save on coal, but she could not do the fine threadwork with fingers that were freezing. One winter, about six years earlier, the amount of sewing that she had been given had fallen off, and then she fell ill and had to turn away work for a week. She found herself suddenly on the brink of disaster, and she was forced to consider going back to live with her uncle or even asking her father’s stiff-necked family for help.

It was then that the General had appeared on her doorstep, a gruff, unlikely angel of mercy, and had offered her a position as companion and governess to his great-niece, Gabriela, whose parents had died a month earlier, leaving the General her guardian. The General had immediately thought of Jessica, with whom he had retained contact throughout the years. In fact, she had long suspected that he was behind some of the bonuses and gifts that she had received from her customers over the years. Jessica had seized on the offer of a position with joyful relief, and she had never regretted her decision.

Her time here had been happy. She soon grew to love her charge, and as she stayed, she took on more and more of the running of the household. The servants relied on her for advice and orders, quick to realize her competence, and the General was happy to turn such “women’s things” over to her. She enjoyed her life here, and it seemed almost as if General Streathern and Gabriela were her family. She did not think she could have been more concerned for the old man or happier that he was coming out of his illness if he had been her own grandfather.

After another day of convalescence, the General informed his valet that he did not need a “damned nursemaid sitting up and staring at me all night,” and ordered him to go to bed and end his nightly watch. The following morning he sent Humphrey to Jessica with the request that she come to his room. She left Gabriela with a paper to write and went to see the General, wondering what he wanted. Knowing the General, it could be anything from an accounting of the household budget to a game of chess to alleviate his boredom.

In this instance it was neither. General Streathern was sitting up in his bed, looking much stronger than he had the day before. He smiled when he saw Jessica, and she noted that the expression still did not reach the left side of his face. His left arm, too, was held across his lap and did not move much as he talked. But his color was much better and his gaze was alert, and when he spoke he sounded much like his old self.

“Well, girl, had you given me up for dead, too?” he barked.

“I was very worried,” Jessica admitted.

“Doubter.”

“You had been unconscious for a week, General,” Jessica pointed out. She had grown up speaking her mind, for it was the way her father had trained her, and she had been greatly relieved to find that the General was the same sort of man.

The old man chuckled. “I can always count on you to tell me the truth, Jess.” He patted his bed. “Come, sit down where I can see you without having to break my neck.”

Jessica went forward and sat down on the edge of his bed, facing him. “I am very glad to see that I was mistaken.”

“I am, too, my girl.” General Streathern let out a sigh. “I have to tell you, I gave myself a scare. I wouldn’t let on to that old sawbones, of course, but I know I had a close brush with death. I can feel it.” He patted his left arm. “Haven’t got full movement here, you know.” He shook his head. “It’s a frightening thing, your brain attacking you.”

“I imagine it is. But you are better now. And perhaps your arm will grow stronger.”

“I hope so. It’s damned irritating. Not as irritating as waking up and finding that scoundrel Vesey in my room, though. Don’t know how my sister could have produced a grandchild like that. Nothing wrong with her daughter—course, the Vesey line has always had bad blood. I told Gertie that no good would come of it, but it was out of her hands. Her son-in-law always did have batting for brains.”

“I am sorry they were here.”

“Not your fault. But I told Pierson not to let them back in. Now that he has my orders, he’ll keep them out. And if he does go all weak, you remind him of what I said.”

“I will.”

“Gave me a turn, seeing Vesey.” The General fell silent for a moment, looking down at his hands. He was not one to speak of personal feelings, a military man to the bone. “It made me think. I could die. I am seventy-two years old. I’ve had more than my time on earth. I guess I always thought I could somehow fight it off. But it was sheer luck this time. When I read that letter, saw that Millicent had died…”

“I am sure it was a shock to learn of your friend’s death.”

“It was indeed.” Sadness fell over the old man’s features. “I loved her, you see.”

“Of course.”

“No. I mean, really loved her. Loved her for almost fifty years.”

Jessica, startled, looked keenly at the General. There was a softness in his eyes that she had rarely seen there.

“She was married to another man. Not a bad fellow. I knew him. I met her at a party Lady Abernethy gave. I was thirty-four at the time. I hadn’t married. I had been too busy with my career for things like that. After I saw Millicent, I knew I never would. Terrible thing to live with, knowing that you would be ecstatic if a good man died. Course, he did, many years later. But by that time, we had gotten old. Grown into the way of being friends, settled in our own lives and neither of us too eager to give that up. It was enough for us the last few years just to see each other now and then, and to maintain our correspondence. I would have done anything for her, though.”

He sat lost in reverie. Jessica remained silent, too, trying to absorb this new picture of the crusty old military man as a devoted swain, loving a woman he could not have.

“Ah, well.” The General seemed to shake off his thoughts. “That’s not what I called you here about. Not directly, anyway. The thing is, when I read those lines, there was a terrific pain in my head, and then the next thing I knew I was waking up here with that silly cow Leona blubbering all over me. Now I realize how presumptuous I was all these years, thinking I could fight off death, as if it were an enemy soldier. I couldn’t do a thing. I was just lucky to come back. Next time, I might not be so fortunate.”

Jessica did not know what to say. The General was right, and it was hard to say something optimistic in response.

“Seventy-two. Some would say it’s about time I figured out I wasn’t invincible.” The General let out a little chuckle. “Thing is, what about Gaby? Oh, I’ve provided for her in my will, no worry about that. And her father left her a nice trust. She will have plenty of money. But she needs more than that. She needs someone who loves her.”

“I will stay with her, General. I promise. You know how much I care for her.”

The General smiled at her, and it touched Jessica’s heart with sorrow to see how one side of his mouth did not curl up with the other. “I knew I could count on you. But I wanted to make sure you understood what to do if anything should happen to me. I have provided for a guardian in my will. It’s the same man that her father named as successor should anything happen to me. I don’t know him well, but he was a friend of her father’s and reputed to be an honorable sort. He will look after her money and her welfare. I just wrote him a letter. There…”

He gestured toward the small table beside his bed, on which lay a letter, closed by a blob of red wax bearing the General’s seal. “Take it. I want you to escort Gaby to his home if anything further should happen to me. Give him this letter, as well as the will. In it, I’ve asked him to keep you on. I told him that Gaby relies on you and trusts you.”

“I will. Don’t worry. But let us hope that there will be no need for it. You will recover and live long past Gaby’s marriage, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. But I haven’t said all I want to say. Once Gaby is with her new guardian, I won’t worry. He is a powerful, influential man—the Duke of Cleybourne. Vesey would be able to do nothing to him. But until then…I fear Vesey.”

“Lord Vesey? But surely, if you name someone else her guardian, that will put a stop to any danger from him.”