Authors: Candace Camp
Lord Vesey smiled. “You think he might be ripe for the plucking?”
Leona’s golden eyes were alight with anticipation. “A lonely widower…winter evenings around a cozy fire…that’s almost too easy a target for one with my talents.”
The more she thought about it, the more Leona liked the idea. Cleybourne was a handsome man, tall and broad shouldered, and wealthy. Seducing him into her bed would be no hardship on her, and it would be pleasant to have a new, indulgent lover. She didn’t know whether he would turn the girl over to Vesey, but that was entirely secondary to Leona. Of first importance was the prospect of acquiring an infatuated lover eager—and able—to ply her with expensive gifts.
“I don’t know, Leona,” Vesey warned. “He is quite friendly with the Aincourts, and you know in what esteem they hold you.”
Leona’s eyes flashed. “I don’t care if he is as thick as thieves with the loathesome Lady Westhampton. She is Dev’s own sister, and her opinion of me never kept Devin out of my bed. Trust me, a few hours with Cleybourne and he’ll be panting after me. A few days and he will be willing to give me whatever I want.”
Lord Vesey smiled. “Well, then…eat up, and we’re off to Yorkshire.”
Jessica awoke the next morning in a much improved mood. A good night’s rest was often the best antidote to one’s fears and doubts. Looking out the nursery window at the rolling Yorkshire countryside, washed with the pale light of a wintry sun, she believed the reassuring things she had said last night to Gabriela. This morning, she was sure, the Duke of Cleybourne would follow the honorable course and accept his guardianship of the girl and welcome her into his house. He had simply been caught by surprise last night.
She breakfasted with Gabriela, talking about how they would explore the house today, and later in the morning, when a servant came to the nursery with a summons from the duke, she followed him downstairs with a light step.
The footman ushered her into the same study where she had spoken to Cleybourne the night before, then bowed out of the room, closing the door behind him. The Duke of Cleybourne was seated behind his massive desk, more formally attired in a jacket and snowy cravat than he had been last night. He rose at her entrance and with a gesture indicated a chair in front of his desk.
“Miss Maitland.”
“Your Grace.”
“Please, be seated.”
Looking at his face, some of Jessica’s good mood evaporated. He was by daylight as handsome as he had appeared last night in the dimmer candlelight, but his expression was, if anything, even grimmer. She wondered, briefly, if this man knew how to smile.
“I have given a great deal of thought to this situation,” Cleybourne began in a heavy tone. “And I have come to the conclusion that it would not be in Miss Carstairs’ best interests to be my ward.”
Jessica stiffened, and her hands curled around the arms of her chair, as if to keep herself from vaulting out of it. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I misunderstood you. Are you saying that you are sending us away? Are you going to turn Gabriela over to Vesey?”
Her mind was racing even as she spoke, thinking how she could flee with Gabriela before he could give the girl up to Vesey.
Where could she go? How could she protect her?
Cleybourne flushed faintly, and his mouth tightened. “Good God, no, I don’t intend to turn her over to that roué! How can you even ask that?”
“How can I not?” Jessica retorted heatedly. “I know nothing of you except that you refuse to be her guardian.”
“It is not that, exactly. It is just…well, when her father wrote his will, my circumstances were different. My wife was still alive, and my—” He stopped abruptly and rose to his feet, pushing back his chair. “But mine is a bachelor’s household now, Miss Maitland,” he went on, pacing away from her. “Scarcely a good place for a young girl. She needs a woman’s guiding hand, someone who can plan her debut and introduce her to society, teach her all the things a girl on the edge of womanhood needs to know. I would be at a complete loss at any of those things.”
“She has me, sir,” Jessica said, rising to her feet as well. “I may be only a governess, but I did make my coming-out in London. I was brought up as Gabriela should be brought up. And when the time arrives for her to come out, surely you have some female relative, a sister or mother or aunt, who would be willing to guide her through the waters of London society.”
“Makeshift remedies, Miss Maitland,” he said in a clipped tone, facing her from across the room. “No doubt you are an excellent teacher. However, she needs more than that. She should have the close guidance and company of an older woman, one experienced in the ways of society. I cannot provide that, and neither can you.”
“She needs comfort and strength right now, and that is more important than what she will need four years from now. She needs a home, a place where she belongs, where she is wanted. She lost both her parents six years ago, and now has lost the man who was a grandfather to her. She has no family because I will
not
consider Lord Vesey her family.”
“Of course not. But
I
am not her family, either.”
“No, but you were her father’s friend. You are the man her father would have wanted to be her guardian. Because of that, she places her trust in you. And you are the man the General wanted to be her guardian. He placed his trust in you. Did you not read his letter? He feared that Vesey might try to—”
“I will not let Vesey have her. I already told you that. It isn’t as if I am turning the two of you out into the street.” Cleybourne scowled at her blackly. “Damn it! You are the most infuriating woman. I told you, I will find a suitable place for her. My sister-in-law, perhaps. I will write Rachel and see if she and her husband would raise her. Of course you will stay here until I find the proper place, and I assure you that if Vesey should pursue the matter, I will take care of him.”
Jessica started to argue again, but she stopped and pressed her lips tightly together, controlling her anger. She had to stay with Gabriela; that was the most important thing, especially if this man was going to shuffle the girl about. She had already pushed him as much as she dared. She must not offend him so much that he let her go. “Very well, Your Grace.”
The duke’s eyebrows rose in faint surprise at her capitulation. “Yes. Well, that’s settled, then.”
“Shall I bring Miss Gabriela to meet you now?”
“What?” An odd look, one almost of fear, crossed his face, and he shook his head quickly. “No. I—it would be best if we did not meet, I think.”
“What?” Jessica was too astounded not to stare at him. “You will not even meet her?”
“It would be better for her.”
“How is it better for her?” Jessica demanded, anger boiling up too fast and hard for her to be prudent. “To know that you will not even see her? That you cannot be bothered?”
“That is enough, Miss Maitland!” His dark eyes flashed. “I am her guardian, if you remember, and that is my decision. She should not become attached here. This will not be her home. It will be easier for her to leave this way.”
“Easier for you, you mean!” Jessica retorted hotly.
Richard’s eyes widened in astonishment, and Jessica realized then how far she had overstepped. But, in the next moment, to her surprise, the duke let out a short bark of laughter. “I cannot imagine how you managed to be a governess, Miss Maitland, given that razor of a tongue of yours.”
Jessica lifted her chin a little. “General Streathern approved of straight speech.”
“I would not think he brooked insubordination.”
Looking Cleybourne straight in the eye, Jessica said evenly, “The General was not a man to use his power unwisely.”
Cleybourne looked at her for a long moment. Finally he said, “Thank you. That is all.”
Jessica, resisting the impulse to give him a sarcastic curtsy, merely nodded and left the room.
Inside she was seething.
The man was unfeeling!
She stalked down the hall, scarcely noticing where she was going, and scowling so blackly that a maid, dusting a table, quickly stepped out of her way.
She knew that she could not return to Gabriela in this mood. She must come up with some way to present Cleybourne’s decision to the girl without hurting her, and right now all that would come spurting out of her would be the furious, unvarnished truth. She decided a walk would be the only way to burn off her ire, so she went down the back stairs and out a door into the pale winter sunshine.
Immediately she realized her mistake; it was far too cold to be outside without a wrap. But she could not go back upstairs for her coat without running into Gabriela. She decided one quick turn around the garden would have to do.
She had walked halfway down the center aisle of the garden when footsteps on the stone behind her made her pause and turn. A small woman, bundled up in a cloak, was walking toward her, and over one arm was draped another cloak. She smiled as she neared Jessica.
“Miss Maitland, I thought you might find it a wee bit cold out here, so I brought you a cloak.”
Jessica took the wrap from her gratefully. “Thank you, Miss…”
“Brown. Mercy Brown. I am the housekeeper here.” Her eyes twinkled merrily, matching her smile. “And I must confess it was curiosity more than kindness that sent me out here. I have been wanting to meet you ever since Baxter told me about your arrival with the wee one.”
Jessica smiled back at the woman. “It is a pleasure, Miss Brown, whatever the reason. But Miss Gabriela is scarcely a wee one.”
“Ah, well, she was but a baby the last time I saw her. She was a pretty thing then, and Baxter tells me she still is.”
“Yes. She is very pretty. And good-natured, as well.”
The housekeeper’s smile grew even broader. “I’m glad to hear that. It will be so good to have a young person about the place again. It will be good for the master, too.”
“The duke? Not much. He plans to ship her off somewhere as soon as he can,” Jessica told her sourly.
“No!” Miss Brown looked dismayed. “He never said that.”
“Close enough. He says it’s not the ‘proper place’ for a child, him being a bachelor. He is the most arrogant, irritating man—I cannot imagine why the General thought he would take care of Gaby. He was obviously deluded about the duke’s sense of honor and duty.”
“Oh, no, he is an honorable man!” the older woman protested. “And he would not shirk his duty.”
“Mmm,” Jessica replied on a note of disbelief. “So long as it did not put him out, I suppose.”
“You must not judge him so harshly,” the housekeeper told her earnestly. “The duke is a good man. He really is. You have to understand—he has had a sad history. Things have happened to him that have made him, well, a bit of a recluse, but there isn’t a wicked bone in his body.”
“What else would you call it when he rejects an orphaned girl whose last relative has just died, who has been entrusted to him by a man who was his friend? Her father and General Streathern trusted him to take care of Gabriela, but he cannot be bothered. So he plans to ship her off to whoever will take care of her for him.”
Jessica glanced at the housekeeper and saw a look of great sadness on her face. The woman shook her head, saying, “Ah, poor man. It must be because of Alana. No doubt he cannot bear to be around a child again.” She looked at Jessica. “Why don’t you come back to my sitting room and warm up with a cup of tea? I will tell you about His Grace and why, well, why he is as he is.”
Jessica agreed readily, curiosity as much as the cold impelling her inside. The two women turned and retraced their steps to the house, where the housekeeper hung up their cloaks and led Jessica along a back hall and through the kitchen into a cozy little sitting room beyond that was the housekeeper’s domain. A word to a maid as they passed brought her to the room a few moments later with a pot of tea and cups, and a dish of scones, on a tray.
The scones were delicious, and a few sips of the strong sweet tea warmed Jessica up almost immediately. She settled back into the comfortable chair to listen to Miss Brown.
“I have known His Grace since he was a little boy. So have Baxter and most of us older servants,” she began, her brown eyes alight with fondness. “He was always a wonderful boy. And as he grew into manhood, well, you could not ask for a kinder or better employer. Almost ten years ago he married Caroline Aincourt, the daughter of the Earl of Ravenscar. An excellent marriage—old family, good name—but far more than that, His Grace was madly in love.”
Miss Brown let out a little sigh, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “Oh, but she was a beauty. Every inch a duchess, she was. Tall and striking, with black hair and green eyes. Good-looking lot, the Aincourts, whatever else they might be. There’s a portrait of her in the Great Hall. They were very happy. And, oh, the times we had at the castle then! There were often guests—for weeks at a time, sometimes. Balls and dinners and all sorts of entertainment. His Grace was a sociable man.”
“The duke?” Jessica asked in disbelief.
The other woman nodded. “Oh, yes. I am sure you would not credit it, to see him now. But he enjoyed company. He wasn’t one of those who was irresponsible or wild, you understand. He always did his duty and took an interest in his affairs, but he liked a party as well as the next man. And the duchess! Well, she fairly glowed at a ball. She was always the center of attention. They had a daughter, Alana.”