Her stepmother looked up. "You have to do what you think is best, but, before you do something that could affect our family, make sure you give him a chance to know the whole of it."
Sarah marched closer and dug inside the covers, grabbed Gaia's arm, and towed her to the vanity. "He won't understand if you hide."
How could he know all, when Gaia didn't? She put a hand to each cheek and leaned over the flat oak surface, bearing her brush and the duke's jewelry gifts. "Everything is changing. Why did I accept?"
Sarah picked up the pewter comb, and began smoothing a section of Gaia's crumpled curls. "He made you an offer you couldn't refuse. You are not still thinking of Elliot?"
"Not really. And he's not thinking of me." Elliot hadn't stopped by. His parents visited yesterday. They said he was busy, surveying a section of a bog. Swampy soup was more important than questioning her engagement.
When Sarah snapped a knotted tress too hard, Gaia reared up. "Ouch. My frizzy hair. It's nothing like Julia’s. She should be the duchess, not a... Mulatto, black, servant, governess. I'm so beneath the duke."
"Hush," Sarah made a sympathetic tsk sound with her tongue. "You are a sweet, beautiful gift of God. This family, my Timothy, we would suffer so without you. Don't you know your worth?"
How could Gaia, with all the falsehoods and secrets? She buried her face against Sarah's soft middle. "I can't marry like this. How will he handle hearing the truth from someone other than me? At least with Elliot, he had the benefit of knowing my character these twenty years."
"Dear, all the best and some of the so-so of the genteel population have visited and offered congratulations, but not Elliot. You are not a priority to him, Gaia. Measure a man by what he does, not his words or a vision you've painted in your head."
Gaia pushed hot air out of her lungs. "You must think I'm a ninny. Cheshire is handsome and rich. Any girl would be lucky to have him."
"You are lucky, but so is he. You're not like others."
"That's the problem, Sarah."
"Gaia, whether right or wrong, you follow your heart. You always have. It takes the right man, a God-sent man, to see the beauty of your spirit, and you can't think of Elliot. You've outgrown the need for a one-sided love."
Loving Elliot held safety. She knew her place. They were neighbors. Her heart withered within her chest as fear of being shunned or hated by William invaded her mind. That was it. The loss of William frightened her more than anything.
She slumped at the vanity. The cold wood top with its rough grain reminded her of strength and provision and truth. "I must tell Cheshire. No matter what happens, he must know, and it must be said by me."
"Give him the opportunity to respond wrongly and make mistakes. Be willing to forgive, if you expect understanding. I wouldn't be surprised if he has secrets, too, or opinions that will require your understanding. I know he cares for you. He's promised a long engagement. Find the right time to tell him."
Her stepmother's words vibrated within Gaia's head, as did what she’d overheard from the duke and his friend on the Hallows' balcony. The she, the blackmail notes. Maybe Gaia and the duke were equally yoked, both steeped in dark mysteries.
Trying to sweep aside her concerns, she looked on the vanity for a necklace to wear, something to clasp jittery finger to. She avoided the fine gold locket William had sent, and picked up Sarah's coral strand. "I'd like to wear this, Mother. It will remind me that someone believes in me."
"Of course, dear," with a kiss to Gaia's cheek, Sarah prayed. "God, give my daughter the courage to be happy, to enjoy a bright future."
The only way to get this bright future to happen was to survive the dark patches. Was the friendship she shared with the William enough to withstand all the secrets being exposed?
The afternoon came too soon for Gaia. As the carriage arrived at Ontredale, her pulse started to race. Aunt Tabby held her hand, as if she'd escape or fling herself through the opening. Nothing was further from the truth. She'd rather hide in the dark seats, and let the quilted silk-lined walls envelope her and escape everyone's notice.
Aunt pretended as if Gaia had never asked about her true paternity, and Gaia didn't have the heart to try again. Aunt bubbled, overflowing with joy at this engagement. No one should take her joy away, not even a pretend niece desperate for the truth.
She hadn't quite worked out how to tell her intended he was marrying someone passing for white. How did that get brought up? Excuse me, my lord, but I'm not what I seem. A funny thing happened when I told my father I wanted to marry.
With a rub of her temples, she filled her lungs and smoothed her cream gloves. In the past, she'd only been this nervous to see Elliot, and that longing had faded. When Sarah said he’d sent a note announcing he'd be visiting today, Gaia didn't flinch. She wouldn't change her plans to spend the day with Mary or William for anything.
A footman arrived and opened the door. Albert and one other servant stood at the entry, as did William. Did they suspect that the duke's betrothed was no higher than they?
Stop it, Gaia. No one can tell her secret. No one would know, not until she told.
Cheshire walked down the steps. The handsome man wore a bottle-green waistcoat and olive breeches. His chestnut tailcoat whipped from side to side as he launched down the final step. Taking her hand, he secured it on his well-muscled arm, and then gave Aunt his other.
"You ladies look very well today."
"Thank you. My niece looks particularly sweet in the mint- green silk you sent, but there wasn't enough for matching gloves."
Wanting to jump off the steps and into a hole, Gaia stopped in place, prohibiting their procession. "Aunt, Cheshire has been too generous."
A smile bloomed on William's countenance. Must he take pleasure in her discomfort? Wicked man.
"An oversight I'll correct with my next gift. A man should be generous to the woman he wishes to marry."
Aunt giggled, and Gaia's breath faltered. The glint in his eyes spoke volumes. He meant it. Why did it feel as if the 'of convenience' part of their arrangement was slipping away? Did he want a full marriage, one with love and tenderness?
He marshaled them into the main hall. "Ladies, let me take you on a tour of Ontredale."
Aunt Tabby raised her head and peered toward the daunting stairs. "Might we just view the first level and enjoy some refreshments?"
"Of course; wouldn't want you to become winded. You've seen the drawing room and dining room. This way to the library and the grand balcony."
Letting Aunt and the duke continue forward, Gaia stopped and admired the marble floor.
Passing a few more servants, one polishing brass hardware, another arranging fresh flowers on the round table by the massive stairs, another dusting porcelain sculptures, she lifted her head high even as a shiver skirted her spine. The duke must possess great riches. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't associate with the Telfairs, a family of such low connections. And now a woman with a dark secret was marrying him.
Albert walked past. His deeply bronzed face held a smile. "Do you need something, miss?"
She shook her head at the only other person like her, one serving this good man, and rushed to catch up with the duke.
William's countenance held a pleasant smile. He seemed to enjoy showing Aunt his collection of Dresdens or describing the number of looms it took to weave the fancy silver tapestry filling the library, or the lengths the late duke and some great-grandfather went to secure the wall of books.
Gaia's fingers fidgeted, and she made a death grip on the fat water pearl centered in the coral beads. Not looking, she tripped over the gold and cream fringe of a burgundy rug running the length of the long hall.
A massive arm went around her, steadying her.
Her heart beat hard, and for a moment she became lost in William's sea-blue eyes. It was as if he were saying everything would be well, to trust him.
But how could he trust her if he didn't know her secret, if she didn't
share it?
William's voice remained smooth, as though nothing had happened. "Now, let me show you the balcony views from the back of the house."
Aunt clapped her hands. Her wide bonnet with the silky crimson ribbon on its brim was one of Sarah's creations. It billowed with the breeze, and she disengaged with William to clamp it down. "Simply beautiful grounds, your lordship."
Gaia gripped the rail and looked out at the sight. Beautiful wasn't the word. In awe, she opened her mouth. The greenery spread far and wide. As the cliffs dropped away, blue-green waters the color of William's eyes became visible, filling the space between man and heaven.
They stood too far to hear the foamy waves crest against the rocks. Yet she could hear it in her mind, could imagine the coolness of the sea wetting her bare feet. It would be worth ruining her shoes just for a dip. When she inhaled deeply, she sniffed a hint of the salt.
"What say you, my lady?"
His emphasis on the word 'my' started Gaia's pulse racing.
He stepped from behind to her side, grasping her palm. "Is the view to your liking?"
As a tangle of words flooded her throat, all she could do was nod. She pulled away and rubbed her arms, as if the air were cool enough to give her a chill. He couldn't know it was her fear of liking him too much making her feet cold. Glancing over the rail again, Gaia noted the curve of the massive stone stairs leading below. At the bottom lay a path of woven bricks. The line of them surrounded three circular gardens. Roses and other plantings gave the floral gardens a varying height of pinks and yellows. Elliot would know the names of the flowers, but it was unnecessary to distinguish them to enjoy the tranquil paradise.
"In the distance, you can spy a ship coming to England." A deep sigh left William. "I know I often looked for cliffs and hoped to catch a glimpse of Ontredale when we returned from Spain. It was rare to come here as a lad, but those times were memorable."
Aunt came to Gaia's left. "Yes, Your Grace went to war in the Regiments. Gaia, can you imagine our dear Duke in regimentals?"
Gaia's face fevered thinking of anything touching William's broad shoulders.
Pushing a smile from his lips, he moved to Aunt, offering her his arm. "Mrs. Monlin, lunch should be ready in the drawing room. Miss Telfair, if you'd like to stay and enjoy the view a little longer, I'll return for you."
Alone with William, in paradise. "No, I'll follow."
As they walked down the hallway covered in fleur de lis stampings, Gaia studied the grand portraits of women and men. Large gilded frames at least eight feet wide and nine or ten feet long hung every few inches; men and women, all ages, captured on canvas. Some were dressed in military garb with strawberry red coats. Some were genteel woman sitting with their children. Others were old, stern-looking men. What relation were they to William? Would they approve of the association he formed with the poor mulatto?
Never.
The eyes of the stills all now seemed to bear down upon her.
She stamped her foot against the dark-chocolate-stained floor. "God, why can't I feel worthy?"
William appeared, almost out of thin air. His brow popped up as his gaze swept over her. "Are you well, Gaia?" his voice lowered to a whispery kiss just for her ear. "More misery prayers? I must not being doing a good job of keeping your smile."
Her breath faltered. "I think I just need some air."
"Stay here. Mrs. Monlin, and let me situate you in the drawing room. Then I'll return to take my fiancée for a stroll in the park below. Would that be all right?"
Aunt Tabby cocked her head. "I don't know."
"I'll be on my best behavior, and you'll get to enjoy Mrs. Wingate's latest pastries. She might even have a jelly prepared just for you."
An alligator-sized grin filled her oval face. "You'll not get in too much trouble by yourselves. Lead the way, sir."
They left Gaia by a pristine white sculpture of some Grecian goddess. Aunt giggled all the way down the hall.
Gaia leaned back against the wall and absorbed the quiet, so different from noisy Chevron. No siblings to watch out for. No terrors running and screaming their heads off.
But no Timothy. To be here meant missing their lessons. If she were to wed anyone, how would that change her relationship with her brother?
She stopped, twiddling her fingers. Why was she getting so bothered? She closed her eyes and chanted, "He's my friend. Just a friend. There is equality in that."
"You called?"
Lids slitting to a hair, she viewed William hovering over her. One of his hands pressed the wall above her. He leaned in close, near enough for his lips to be an inch from hers.
Before his tarragon scent weakened her resistance to his charm, she stepped from him.
His laugh sounded, as if it held a secret. "I didn't think you scared so easily."
Before she could retort, he brought his other palm into view. A creamy shawl with tiny rosettes about the trim hung from his fingers. "It's a little windy outside."
"Another gift? I can't."
"This was my cousin's late wife's, the former lady of this manor. I found it when we opened the house. Neither the house nor the shawl had been used in a long time. Something we shall change."
"Then I definitely couldn't. That is something that should be passed down to Mary."
"In due time. I shall let my friend, my fiancée, wear it." He slipped the fabric over her shoulders.
"Would your great-grandmother approve? Would any of your relations approve of us? Miss Smythen thinks I should be a servant. I can't say I disagree."
A blast of hot air huffed from his nostrils. "Our age difference is not so much. And my cousin has a limited understanding. She thinks goodness and wealth are mutually exclusive."
"When she learns of this engagement, she'll be livid."
"I don't care what she thinks." He spun Gaia and pointed to the painting. The golden trim shimmered with candlelight from the wall sconces. "And any of these St. Landons, captured in oils or watercolors, seeing your sweetness and intelligence, would approve too. But shouldn't it matter most what we think?"
Gaia stared into his sea-blue eyes and wanted to scream 'you're marrying a mulatto'. But those precious windows into his soul silenced her, speaking of things she couldn't discern. Was it tenderness, kinship, or something else?
Overwhelmed, she fingered the delicate tassels of his gift and remembered how he'd said she. "Is Miss Smythen the she you and Mr. Stelford talked of the night of the Hallows' ball?"
He blinked a few times, and a smile started from his cheeks. Dimples? "Our walk awaits."
She shook her head. They were to be married, and he didn't trust her with his secrets. Well she shouldn't judge, because she couldn't tell him her truth. Settling her nerves, she gripped his arm a little tighter and let him lead.
As he helped her down the sandstone stairs, she enjoyed the whistle in the breeze and the mixture of sweet fragrances erupting from the sculpted hedges. Perfect rectangles of henna and purples lined their path. Her arms pimpled. How could she be the mistress of such a place?
"See, I knew it was a little chilly." He patted her hand, his gloveless fingers interlocking with hers. "What are you thinking? I understand shy Gaia and nervous Gaia. I treasure forthright Gaia, but this version I don't know."
She looked to the stone path, for she couldn't tell him her thoughts. She wasn't ready to be shunned by him. "Where are your friend and your cousin?"
He lifted her chin. The rough skin of his knuckles jarred, making her stop and seek his face.
His gaze settled upon her, even as his lips formed a grimace. "Off in town. I won't have any third parties causing misunderstandings between us. Miss Smythen will be leaving soon. She is the she. My cousin has made a pest of herself, trying to coerce me into marrying her, even to the point of compromise. Our engagement now protects me from her tricks."
He exposed a secret to Gaia. Her heart thumped a little harder. "Why not just toss her out, make her go away, if sh
e's bothering you?"
"Even as annoying as she is, she's family. Family is everything. Our family will be everything." He looked back at the house, and then nudged her forward. They walked a little farther. "So, there; have I passed one test?"
"I wasn't testing you much." She leveled her shoulders. "So far."
An ease settled on his countenance and he siphoned a deep breath. "Good. I like goals. Making you comfortable in St. Landon territory is a priority."
To be a priority to anyone was an enigma. She bundled deeper into the shawl and kept up with his long stride, deeper into the garden.
"I have always missed Devonshire. Spring makes it beautiful, with the flowers forming their buds." He bent and picked a buttercup and put it behind her ear. "Gaia means 'Mother Earth'. Seems this place is made for your enjoyment."
Great. Mr. Telfair named her dirt. How fitting.
"Sweet Gaia. Beautiful Gaia." The feel of his hand tracing her jaw to smooth away a lock of hair made her pulse speed. "You're still in your old shoes."
She licked her lip and tried to hide the turbulence stirring in her bosom. "They are so very fine. I didn't want to ruin things so soon."
"I see." His voice lowered and held a bit of sadness. "It's so hard to know what pleases. Well, that's a St. Landon tradition."
"What do you mean?"
He lifted his chin to the sky. "I wasn't a good son to the great reverend."
That didn't sound right. The late vicar seemed stern, pounding his pulpit, but how could he not approve of William? "I don't understand."
"He never wanted me to become a peer. He’d rather I follow in the church, not the military."
"I can't quite see you making sermons."
A smirk popped onto his countenance. "You'd be surprised how much scripture I know, taught to me by the great man, though I don't think he knew I'd be swaying my fiancée with King Solomon's words. Maybe you should quote it. Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth."
Unmasked Heart: A Regency Romance (Regency Romance: Challenge of the Soul Book 1) Page 18
