by Ann Chaney
After a quick wash, Moreham hurried into the breakfast room to find Gillian sitting with a full plate of eggs, potatoes, and a rasher of bacon in front of her. Her grin was infectious, and he responded in kind. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy.
Timmie placed his plate in front of him. Gillian sniffed then raised her napkin to her nose.
“You don’t like kippers?”
“I am not sure if I do. I have never managed to get past the aroma to taste the dish. My stomach is too delicate for that fare.”
Fortunately, his mouth was empty when she replied. He leaned over and nodded at Timmie who stood at the ready by the sideboard. “Oh, my sweet little Gillian, Timmie is within earshot. The kitchen will be abuzz with speculation you are with child. The spies will run across the street and pass on the news. My mama will be beside herself. We must hurry or we won’t leave Town until nuncheon if mama calls.”
Chapter 9
As soon as James left the room, Gillian threw off the bedcovers, grabbed her dressing gown and shoved her hands into the sleeves. She made for the door to the sitting room and a mad run for her bedchamber. She gave the bell pull a tug.
Once the maid appeared, the two of them made quick work of her toilette and dressing her for the ride to Whitings. Within a quarter hour, Gillian was dressed in a stunning light blue traveling dress with dark blue braiding on the jacket. Not one to be concerned with fashion, she found she rather enjoyed the sumptuousness of the outfit. Gillian wanted to look her best on this the second day of her marriage, unconventional though it was.
Bidding Maisy safe travels, Gillian rushed from the room, excited at the prospect of spending the day with James, just the two of them. Maisy was to depart as soon as she returned below stairs. The maid would be riding with James’ valet so the two servants could see to the organization of their wardrobes at Whitings.
She found only Timmie in the breakfast room. The butler saw to the filling of her plate. She’d only started eating when James entered the room. She relished his look of surprise at her presence. He probably assumed she ‘d be another hour dressing.
He sat in the chair next to her own and nodded to Timmie who proceeded to dish up a second plate. Maybe this marriage business was not such a bad circumstance after all.
Unlike last night, this morning they were dining in a smaller dining room which was as lovely as their apartments. The focal point in the room was the round dining table with six chairs. After years of dining in the formal opulence of Whitney House with its table seating twenty, she rather liked the coziness of the small room.
Her head filled with the sight and sound of children sitting around the table all talking at the same time. Those children all had Moreham’s dark hair and gray eyes.
“You look lovely, wife,” Moreham whispered in her ear. “Eat up, we are running late.”
They ate with only an occasional comment about the weather. Once she had finished eating, a footman spirited her plate away then refilled her teacup.
Moreham did the same and motioned for Timmie and the footman to leave them. He reached over and took her hand.
He frowned at her. “Your dress?”
“No, it appears your mother not only decorated my bedchamber, but outfitted me with lovely new gowns and all the accessories. My armoire is filled to the point of exploding. Don’t you like the dress? Is something wrong?”
Moreham continued to frown. “No, the dress is lovely, and the color brings out the honey hue of your eyes. My mother has been busy. I am not sure how I feel about her interference.”
“Oh, James, don’t be cross with her. She loves you. Allow her this pleasure. I would give any sum of money, any recompense if I could have a single day with my mother. I must confess to being excited about having your mother for my own. I hope you’ll enjoy your time with her because I intend to do so.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You are a wise lady. I have never heard anyone voice so poignantly the dearness of a parent. I must remember your words when Mama tries my patience.”
“I never asked but does she have rooms here? I know at the moment she’s staying with Lady Philly.”
“Yes, she had an apartment of three rooms, but felt we should be alone for the first days of our marriage. Philly keeps a house across the street for times when the rest of the Preston family are not in residence. Never fear, she will call this morning. I am a little surprised she has not already appeared at the front door.”
“It is early for making calls,” Gillian replied.
“Mama will not care about the hour. She will want to see you ensconced here as countess. You must not allow her to browbeat you or embarrass you. She has definite opinions which she does not hesitate to share.”
A single loud report of a doorknocker echoed through the house. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I swear she has spies in my household who report my activities. Not that I mind, you are most correct, it is rather nice having someone who cares.” He favored her with a smile and rose to his feet. “Prepare yourself, my dearest, Whitney may favor shooting me with a fowling piece, but my mama accomplishes the same with a single glance.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when the morning quiet was shattered. The high-pitched voices of Lady Philly and her new mama-in-law, Lady Sylvia carried down the corridor to alert them of the arrival of the ladies. Timmie announced them only a few seconds before the ladies entered the dining room.
Gillian fully intended to afford them both a curtsey but was waylaid when her new mama grabbed her. She received hugs and kisses from the ladies. Timmie attempted to maneuver the ladies into chairs at the table, but neither would have any part of sitting.
“Gillian, you look lovely this morning. That dress looks wonderful on you. I think that shade brings out the color of your eyes more. Philly, don’t you think so?”
“Yes, I agree, Sylvia. Moreham, have we missed breakfast? Only had chocolate this morning.”
“Timmie, would you assist Lady Philly and the countess with their selections from the buffet? I must offer our apologies, but Gillian and I were about to depart for Whitings.”
“You’re leaving this early? Oh well, ‘tis better for Philly and I do make the trip later. Fewer questions from the staff if we do.” Lady Sylvia nudged Lady Philly to the other side of the table and sat down. “Do you have to leave so quickly? Please stay for a final cup of tea.
Gillian chuckled at the put upon look on James’ face. After a footman provided fresh pots of tea and coffee, Timmie ushered the servant from the room then closed the door.
Lady Sylvia eyed the closed doors for a few moments before casting a knowing glance in Philly’s direction. “Tell them.”
Philly took a sip of her tea before setting the cup down. “Moreham, Gillian, we have news. Wellington sent a dispatch. Weatherington and Serena did make his encampment. So did Arnold. There was some nasty business with Arnold taking her hostage, but our girl did us proud. She tussled with Arnold. His pistol fired, killing him which is not good news. This business would be at an end if he’d lived to tell us all. The best news is Weatherington and Serena were married by Wellington’s chaplain. They are on their way home as we speak.”
The import of Philly’s words shook Gillian to her soul. Her bosom bow, Lady Serena Preston, Philly’s niece was a spy too. She should have known if Philly had connections at Whitehall then it only stood to reason other members of her family would as well.
Moreham’s admonition that all was not as it seemed came home to roost. She’d accepted her mama-in-law’s role in James’s business when the ladies had joined them in the library yesterday during Fitzroy’s visit. Both ladies had participated fully in the conversation. Would she ever be able to do so?
“Gillian, you are shocked to find Mama and Philly play a role in the spying business? Cross, Sturm, Weatherington and now Serena are the ones to rout the turncoats while Mama and Philly move about in Society. We all have our roles here to p
lay,” James explained.
“I’m not shocked as much as I’m questioning everything that has happened over the past week. To learn that Serena has been in Portugal doing who knows what because we all know she is more than capable to hold her own with Weatherington or Arnold is disconcerting for me. I must admit, I’m now very interested in speaking with her when she returns. I’m certain she has quite a few stories to share.”
James edged his chair backward. Best to end this conversation now. They did have a coach waiting at the front entrance for them to depart.
As he made to stand, Philly motioned for him to stay. “Moreham before you go, I do want to reiterate my position on Whitney’s guilt. I do not agree with your assessment of the duke’s guilt. I only agreed to this course of action to see if by targeting Whitney we would discover the true leader.
“I have known Whitney since we were all in our first season. He chased after me until he saw Isadora. After their first dance, I ceased to exist. They were and still are a true love match. Restores one’s faith in our way of life, I say.” Lady Philly buttered a piece of toast which she cut the bread into four triangles.
Lady Sylvia reached across the table and squeezed Gillian’s hand. “I, for one, am happy with our progress so far. You have no idea how much I have wanted to see Moreham settled.”
“Mother,” Moreham growled. “Please stay on topic. We received enough felicitations from you yesterday. To continue to do so implies I am a crusty old bachelor who could not find anyone to marry.”
Lady Philly laughed. “Moreham, you have a dry wit I so enjoy.”
Lady Sylvia ignored her son. “My dear Gillian, forget all this talk of spies and traitors. All will come right in the end. Please know how happy you have made me. I have dreamed of the day when I could welcome a daughter. The only occurrence that would make me happier would be your announcement of being with child.”
“Mother!” Moreham sputtered.
“What? Did I say anything you had not already considered?” Lady Sylvia looked unfazed by her son’s discomfort. “I have waited for you to marry for a long time. Moreham, you both are older than couples producing offspring. You are two and thirty while Gillian must be all of two and twenty. You must address the issue of an heir before you are no longer be able to per—”
“—Mother! That is quite enough on the subject, if you please.” Moreham bit out each word so there was no doubt he had lost all patience with his mother.
An occurrence Gillian was certain happened often. Gillian bit her lip to keep from laughing. Moreham struggled to gain control of his temper. All color had leached from his face. For a moment she wondered if he was about to swoon.
“James, do you want me to summon Timmie? It is early in the day, but maybe a small tot of brandy would help,” she offered.
Philly fell victim to a rather ferocious coughing fit while Lady Sylvia looked at Gillian as if she had just grown a second head.
The lady zeroed in on Moreham. “You allow her to call you James?”
“Um…well…yes. She didn’t like Moreham all that much.” He looked down into Gillian’s eyes. “I rather like it.”
Merciful heavens, the man was amazingly convincing. She knew the truth and she still found herself sighing at the loveliness of the sentiment. Gillian pretended to cut her bacon while sneaking a quick look at Lady Sylvia. Tears welled up in Lady Sylvia’s eyes. Gillian had never seen such. Not a single tear fell to her cheeks.
“Oh, Moreham, you have found your soul mate, your true love,” his mother gushed.
“May we return to the issue at hand?” Lady Philly asked with a pointed look at Lady Sylvia.
“Of course, my apology for diverting our attention.” Lady Sylvia offered. “I rather enjoy ruminating about babes and falling in love. Never tire of either subject really. I am most excited about the prospect of Gillian round with my grandchild.”
Gillian, Lady Philly and James all spewed their tea. Once she’d stopped coughing and wiping at the tea stain on her bodice, Gillian was not surprised to find the dowager countess nonplussed and drinking her tea as if she’d not said a word out of turn.
It would seem Moreham came by his obtuseness through his maternal bloodline, or worse he inherited a double dose. Either way, once they resolved the issue of her uncle’s guilt, removing herself to the wilds of Scotland looked better and better.
Chapter 10
The tea debacle caused the ladies to leave much sooner than either had intended. James escorted her above stairs to change their tea-stained clothes which delayed their departure as he had predicted. Mere minutes later they both settled into his traveling coach. After having the ladies visit, to find herself alone with James was a treat. Not that her husband had much to say. It would appear their honeymoon days were over. Back to the business of saving Britain.
What did one do with a husband? What did one converse about? She envied her friends who had married someone they’d known since childhood. At least, those couples had topics to talk about. She knew very little about Moreham. The fact she now thought of him as Moreham was not lost on her. Yes, indeed the honeymoon was over.
It would appear she would not learn more about the earl since neither of them spoke until the coach was well away from Town. With no warning, Moreham took hold of her hand. “I’m so very sorry about the note. I can only imagine how you are feeling now. I am an unfeeling cad to subject you to continuing this farce.”
“No, you mustn’t take on that burden. As I said before I made my choice to come to you not the other way. I’m certain you regarded me as a nondescript brown bird not the proper wife for a peer of the Realm, am I?
“You are more of a woman than any other lady I know. You entrance me with your intellect and loyalty. Your belief in Whitney has never wavered even when you found the note. I do regret the turn of events. My apology for the distress I have caused you.”
She started to speak but he raised his hand to stop her and continued. “I have a plan. Once this mess is over, you can have your choice of my homes. We will visit each one in turn until you find the house you want. I’ll provide you with an income and household staff to see to your every need.”
Gillian was confused. What is the man saying? “My every need? Where will you be?”
“I’ll be here in Town. Seeing to the welfare of the government.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. Should her uncle be found guilty, he would be lost to her. Her aunt would not survive such a revelation of that much she was certain. Now, Moreham was saying he would ship her off to a country house to live out her life alone. Was this his retribution against her for being related to a traitor?
The hand holding of the past day had been so special for her. No man had ever touched her ungloved hand. His touch comforted her. After a single day of marriage, she craved his touch. The notion of not having him at her side was unthinkable.
Clearly, the obtuse man wo she regarded as Moreham was unaware of how upsetting his words had been. He didn’t care for her. She was a means to an end for him. She turned away to wipe at her tears.
Who had she married? Moreham or James? Oh, what a horrid situation.
The silence in the coach was deafening. How he wished he knew what Gillian was thinking. She’d not uttered a word for several miles. Feeling completely at sea, Moreham searched his mind for something to say to end the quietude.
Every now and then he would look up from his reading to find Gillian equally involved with her correspondence. After the second hour of silence, he began to resent her indifference. After the third hour, he tossed his reading aside and cleared his throat.
“Moreham, do you wish to say something?” Gillian asked over the rims of her spectacles. That was another surprise. His wife wore spectacles. Not that there was anything wrong with doing so, he groused, but why did she look even more enticing with the infernal accessory perched on her nose.
He felt betrayed. He didn’t know her well enough. He grimaced at that thought
. They’d known each for mere days. What else did he not know about this woman?
“No, dearest Gillian, I am entranced by your spectacles.”
“Do you find them repulsive? Most do,” she asked.
He sensed the wall she threw up between them.
Words rushed from his mouth to reassure her. “Of course not, I rather like them on you. You look wiser somehow. I find it surprising is all. I had no notion. I am reminded how little we know of each other.” She shrank into herself. He had to say something and hopefully not the wrong something. “I find myself wanting to remove them and kiss you. Rather occupied with that thought, actually.”
Gillian said nothing. She remained still. He tried to think of what to say next. He didn’t want to read dry reports. He wanted her eyes light up when he managed to say something funny. He wanted to hear her giggle. He wanted to join her on the forward-facing seat, slip those rimmed spectacles off her face, and kiss her. Not the small buss of the lips he gave his mother, but a real kiss.
He wanted to know her taste, to treasure the sensation. Sadness engulfed his being. He realized he had no idea how to affect the closeness needed to get that kiss he craved so desperately. Gillian returned his gaze with a look as heated as his own must be, he accepted this woman was the most important person in his life. He refused to believe either of them was in love, but whatever emotion they were experiencing was growing into a stronger emotion than any he’d known before.
He cleared his throat. Gillian turned her somber gaze in his direction. If he lived to be a hundred years old, he would never understand the inner workings of a lady’s mind.
One fact that prevailed was her distress was his fault. Not that he had a single notion as to why, but he did have an inkling of how to ease her dismal mood.
“I find it’s getting a bit chilly. Do you mind if I hold you?” Gillian didn’t speak but nodded her agreement. Moreham pulled her into his arms until she rested her head against his chest. He tucked her cloak around her and eased his hand down her back in a slow caress. It would not do for him to come across as too aggressive.
