Yet how could the late duchess not love someone who wrote poignantly of his feelings? Smoothing the letter, she tucked it back into the trunk and made the seam where the papers had fallen out appear untouched.
She lifted a soft pink blanket out and laid it on the child.
A small snore left Mary. She seemed so peaceful. It was good to know this child was born of love, no matter how things ended.
Would William ever write Gaia such a note? Would friendship be all they had?
Easing from the room, she left the door cracked. After church on Sunday, she'd be back to give it another go with the girl. "Lord, let each time be easier with Mary."
She put her fingers to her lips. Her habit of crying out to God had become second-nature. Maybe on the small things, He'd answer. And this small thing felt good to ask. A part of her missed the freedom of her prayers. Maybe William was right about not losing peace.
As she tiptoed from the room, she saw Albert standing in the hallway.
"Miss." His dark face swiveled left and then right. "I would suggest you braid your chignon tighter if you go into the sea air."
Gaia touched at her frizzy hair, but kept her eyes on the chocolate-colored man standing at the edge of the stairs. "Why do you suggest such?"
"I have a niece of mixed blood. Her hair feathers like yours in the fog. As the future duchess, you should always look well." Albert nodded and slogged down the steps.
Breathless, Gaia sank against the wall, out of sight of the stairs below.
Albert could tell.
How many others could?
And would they expose her secret to William before she did?
Stelford shook his head. "You are serious. You and the Telfair chit are engaged. She's…"
William helped his old friend onto his horse as he tried to choose careful words. "Young is the word you are searching for?"
His friend leaned back in his saddle. "Wholesome. I told you to gain comfort, but a wife, a mouse-poor, brown wife?"
Ire burning, William balled his fist. "Do you think I chose a diamond of the first water the first time?"
Mouth pinching as if he was going to spit, Stelford shook his head. "Are you ever going to forgive Lizzy for her mistakes?"
Folding his arms and glancing back toward Ontredale, William tried to hide his anger. "Are you sure you don't want to come to church with us? I suspect that if you spend time with us, you would see that my fiancée is one of the most beautiful women I've ever met."
"More so than Elizabeth? Your duchess had a flawless complexion."
"But not a flawless character; Gaia Telfair is beautiful inside and out."
Saluting, Mr. Stelford turned his mount toward the village. "Until she shows you she is human. Then how mad will you be?"
William didn't like the sound of that. Were things so black and white? "Just keep the engagement secret for a few more days. You've been very helpful keeping Deborah away while Miss Telfair visited."
"Yes, but I thought I was helping with something naughty, not downright respectable courtship. See you later." He kicked, and started his horse to trotting.
Chortling, William took a deep breath of the fragrant mint and pine scent filling the air and walked from the stables. Stupid Stelford. Watching his fiancée play with Mary strengthened his confidence in his engagement. Gaia had a way with children. She'd make a wonderful mother to her. This marriage was the right thing to do for his child and his own comfort. Gaia was beautiful, and very desirable.
He marched to the entry of the great house and took the opportunity to scan the blooming landscape. Maybe he'd take Gaia for a picnic in the garden. Would that be good, or would being so close to flowers remind her of the botanist?
His jealous gut stirred. She was very pensive the other day, not even allowing a goodbye kiss. What thoughts were running wild in that pretty head? She said she had something to tell him. A new outlandish prayer? What could be the big announcement? It didn't feel as if she were going to beg off their engagement, but what?
There was something caught in between them, keeping them apart. And it wasn't her purity or layers of clothing. Thankfully, his military discipline kept most of his thoughts from seduction. No, the something was intangible, and it stole her joy when she didn't think he was looking.
Was it his lack of fully disclosing the horrid nature of his first marriage? Yes, he hadn't told Gaia everything of that brokenness or of the blackmail. Could that be it? Did she feel he didn't trust her?
He tapped his boot along the edge of the first the step and searched for truth. He did trust her, mostly. She wasn't marrying him for his wealth. The influence of his name and position settled it for her.
That wasn't such a bad thing. The honor of his title and all he could do for her three sisters and Timothy should definitely keep her scandal-free. Pity Elizabeth was an only child.
Whatever the cause of Gaia's shyness, a couple of kisses and a joke or two usually set her at ease. The sooner they married, and she lived at Ontredale, the easier their relationship, and the less concern he'd have about Whimple coming to his senses and snatching her up. Could William persuade Gaia to elope? Had her affection for him grown enough to entrust her hopes with him now, not waiting for the summer to end?
Perhaps her announcement was to tell him she loved him. He stilled and breathed in the cool perfume of the morn, letting his heart expand with wishful pride. If only that were so. If only.
If she loved him first, then he would unlock that broken part of his heart to her. Yes, it was selfish to need her to go first, but what was other way was there? He needed guarantees this time before he could stand to be that vulnerable.
Steady, old man. Patience. He'd keep courting Gaia until no memory of any other fellow existed. Yes, that was the plan. Whistling, he climbed the last step and entered Ontredale.
A servant grabbed his gloves, greatcoat, and top hat before he could trudge any further than the threshold. A few more happy footfalls, he planted at the show table, adjusting the porcelain rhinoceros. A strange notion to pray for Gaia filled him.
The first time he did, God had given him an agreeable result, an engagement. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt now.
Steam pushed out his nose as he shook himself of the notion of using God for coercion. The odd desire to pray must be arising from his anxiety of heading to church again. Yes, God mustn't turn him to salt this time either. Who then would raise Mary?
His cousin? A shiver traversed his spine. The temptation to toss the Dresden elephant vibrated in his fingers. With a slap to his forehead, he released the agitating idea.
William pushed open the doors to drawing room.
Deborah slammed the writing desk shut and marched to him. Her outfit of cream muslin seemed too light for the chill in the room. "I've been waiting for you."
He took her outstretched hand and patted it, then stepped toward the tray of fresh scones. He hadn't eaten this morning. Should he tempt a pastry? "This is your last morn here. It's been several weeks since the Masked Ball."
She crept up behind him and put a palm to his shoulder. "How can I leave when you are in danger?"
Was that her snide way of commenting about Gaia? Had she found out? He spun around and folded his arms. "What do you mean?"
"This came this morning." She waved an ivory letter with red writing.
His temper flared, and he snatched it from her. The blackmailer had started up again.
Deborah grabbed his tight palm and massaged his tensing muscles. "How long has this been occurring?"
"I don't want to discuss this. Mention it to no one."
"Come, have some tea." She shoved him toward the sofa then poured him a steaming cup. "It's a special blend to soothe your restless spirit. Then we'll discuss what to do."
His cousin seemed to possess a serene spirit today. She was very helpful the month Elizabeth died, until she started pressing him for marriage. He took the offered cup and downed it. "Thank you."
Her
eyes widened. "You should drink more slowly."
He opened the letter and scanned the foul threats. Wiping his warm brow, his temper seethed. When would this be over?
Maybe Deborah would have an idea of what to do, or who was behind this. He searched her countenance, his anger blurring her image. "Where's the envelope?"
She blinked rapidly then nodded. "I opened it. Someone's threatening to expose the late duchess's adultery. What will this mean for Mary's future?"
He leaned back on the sofa and filled his heavy lungs with air. "How the perpetrator found me, I don't know. If I knew who he was, he'd be jailed."
A gasp left Deborah. "But wouldn't that bring the whole sordid affair to life? You can't do that."
She sat near him. "They made a request. Let's pay it."
Steadying himself against the cushions, he squinted at her. "They want a thousand pounds, but, if I give it over to them, they'll just ask for more."
Why couldn't he make a new life for him and Mary without troubles from the past? Another horrid note had arrived. The heat of his frustration made sweat bead on his upper lip. He pulled at his cravat.
"Are you alright, cousin?" Deborah placed her cold palm on his forehead.
"I'm fine."
She crept closer and whispered in his ear, "You can't let anyone know. Mary will be plagued with rumors that her mother was nothing more than a prostitute." Deborah grabbed his face, as if to focus his moving eyes. "You can't let anyone think Mary's not a St. Landon. How will she bear the shame?"
"What...." He wiped his brow again as the room spun. "What do you suggest I do?"
She gripped his shoulder. "Marry me, Cousin. I'll protect Mary. I'll make sure society loves her."
"No..." Everything seemed foggy around him. He lifted, but didn't leave the couch.
Deborah tugged his jaw. "Ask me to marry you!"
The shrill notes made his head pound. He broke free of her and launched onto his feet, but his stomach lurched.
Deborah stood close. She tore her sleeve, took his hand and put it to her naked shoulder. "Just say the words. Ask me to be your wife."
"Can't. Engaged to Gaia." He sank to the ground. His skull smashed into the carpet.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Losing William
GAIA AND SEREN walked from Southborne's gates toward Ontredale. The wind had died down and no longer moved the overcast clouds. It should shower and bring the fresh smell of dripping water to the woods, and remove the stench of wilting spring flowers. Summer blooms couldn't come fast enough.
A chill crept up Gaia's spine, even as a few rays of sun slunk past the edges of the gloomy fluff. Why weren't William and his daughter at church? Was his promise just another joke?
"Gaia? Are you listening?"
Seren tugged on Gaia's roomy sapphire gown. The pleating and puff of her cap sleeve flattened then fluffed back into place. Aunt's maid must be a master seamstress, far better than Gaia's meager talents, and the old mantua-maker seemed to enjoy rummaging through the fine fabrics William sent. The sound of the woman's giggles—
"Gaia?"
Seren now stood in her path. "What is consuming your thoughts? It's not like you to be this quiet or not mention Mr. Whimple or the duke once. Must be your new engagement. You know Elliott is doing an exploration close to Ontredale. Maybe he and the duke will fight over you."
"What?"
Seren shook her head. "Wanted to see if you were listening."
Gaia trudged toward Ontredale, which stood beyond the bend. "I'm sorry; just so much on my mind. I am going to tell William today. He needs to know I am black. He needs to decide if he still wants someone like me."
Seren waved her arms and cocked a brow above concerned green eyes. She looked like a brown moth in her chocolate walking gown. "No. That will ruin everything. You are so close to being happy."
Blinking, Gaia swiveled and refocused on the pinkish brick of Ontredale claiming the horizon. "We can't begin with lies. I'm tired of living like this. Any moment, this could all go away. He could hate me."
Seren adjusted her straw bonnet as she lifted her tan kid glove to her giggling mouth. "You want this marriage, beyond just escaping Mr. Telfair's dictates, don't you?"
"What?" With a quick swat at her skull, Gaia stopped, her short heels stabbing the edges of a gnarled root. She stormed off the dirt path to lean against the mossy trunk of a grand oak. "Why are you questioning my mashed-up thinking?"
"That's what friends do." She cozied up and grabbed Gaia's elbows. "You seem different, happy. It must be the duke."
"It's the clothes and new shoes." She fanned her arms and showed off William's scarf. The silky tassels spun in the renewed breeze.
"No, Gaia, it's you. Maybe having someone special, noticing you, makes you glow. I want to glow someday."
Glow. Tanned skin and all. William thought her pretty. Today, as she sat in front of her mirror, sculpting her hair, braiding her hair tight, she felt pretty. Gaia shrugged and walked forward. "I don't know about me, but you will, Seren. You are beautiful, inside and out. We should hurry. Aunt Tabby might already be there, talking Cheshire to death."
Walking next to Serendip, she cast her gaze to Ontredale, with its round turrets and endless charcoal and chocolate roof tiles. She numbered twenty-six grand windows just on this side. How much did it cost to keep the glazing in good repair? Probably more than Mr. Telfair's income.
A tremble started in her toes and worked its way to her bouncing upswept chignon. Mistress of this place? Even if her race mattered not to William, how could she manage this?
Seren's arms surrounded her. "Don't be uneasy."
Her friend, her best friend, steadied her shaking limbs.
Throat thickening, Gaia held onto Seren, as if the ground had turned to quicksand. "He's so rich. I don't want to be someone whose association will bring him shame. I can't hurt him."
"You are worthy. Oh, Gaia. You are worthy, much more than your shallow friend or your tal—"
"Careful, Seren."
"I was going for tall, not talentless Julia." She lifted Gaia's chin. I think the duke sees what everyone but you or Mr. Telfair sees. You are filled with kindness and virtue. You didn't set down your vile cousin when she took Elliot. You congratulated her. When my mother lay sick with consumption, you visited her and read to her so I could get a few hours of sleep."
Was she worthy, God, despite her upbringing? "I've a strong constitution, so I wasn't frightened by the illness."
Seren tugged a four-leaf clover from her reticule and pinned it inside Gaia's stays. "No harm with a little extra luck. But you needn't be troubled. As you've told me when I fret about my brother's gambling, or my father's fury over an investment gone wrong, God is watching over us and guiding our footfalls. He might want yours to lead to this grand place."
Gaia dabbed her wet lashes. Maybe it was time to let God truly guide her, not her fears. Goodness knows she'd need strength to tell William the truth. Help me, Lord. Don't let him hate me.
"Come on, Gaia." Arm in arm, she and Seren marched up to the massive stone entry. Aunt's carriage wasn't about. Well, the woman was hardly ever on time.
With a grin as bright as the sunrise, Seren lifted the doorknocker. "Come, let's wait with your duke."
The door opened, and Albert, wearing a silver and blue uniform, took their bonnets and gloves.
Seren ran her fingers along the rhinoceros's nose, the porcelain statue sitting on the show table. "Cheshire has great taste. His duchess should be pleased."
"Where do you suppose the duke is?" William always made himself available whenever she visited.
Albert drew near. "He's in the drawing room, but Miss Smythen warned me. His Grace is not to be disturbed."
The man grimaced, as if he feared for his position. "The duke isn't easy on servants who do not follow his directions. Should I announce you, ma'am?"
The noise of horses and carriage wheels filtered through the open door, along with Aunt's s
creechy guffawing about the mason work. Albert should attend the newest visitor. Aunt Tabby loved pomp and circumstance.
"The drawing room is where he entertains. We'll go to him." Gaia towed Seren to the drawing room doors.
The room was vacant. Why did the Albert say William was in here? She rounded the couch. "Where—"
The world stopped.
William lay face-down on the floor.
She ran to him and gripped his wrist. Her heart started beating again when she found a pulse.
"Seren, go get help! Have Albert run for a doctor. Take Aunt's carriage if you must."
Eyes shiny with tears, her friend darted out the room.
With all her might, Gaia pushed William's shoulder. He was very large, very heavy. Bracing her feet against the sofa, she shoved him onto his back.
Underneath him was a cream-colored note. The sight of the red ink prickled her skin. A quick scan of the contents left her mouth open, gaping. Adultery? The late duchess?
William wouldn't want it discovered. She shoved it into her pocket.
She crawled close to his face and smoothed his curly hair from his forehead. "Please be all right."
Loosening his cravat, she stroked his neck, the base of his lean face. "Oh, wake up."
She pounded on his chest, as if that would make his inhalation less ragged.
His eyes opened. Bright circles framed his pupils. A shaky palm reached for her cheek. Then it dropped. His breathing slowed to non-existent.
Throwing herself onto his chest, water leaked from her eyes. "No, don't leave me. Never leave me."
"Gaia?"
"William, I've got to get you help. Mr. Whimple is near. Maybe he'll know some herb."
He jerked within her arms. "No Whimple."
Mr. Stelford pounded into the room. "What happened?"
Aunt Tabby sailed in behind him. The woman fell onto the couch like a wheat sack that flopped open. "Goodness, His Grace!"
Unmasked Heart: A Regency Romance (Regency Romance: Challenge of the Soul Book 1) Page 20
