by Heather Boyd
“I’m delighted he did, because my father in love is very amusing.”
“I am glad. For years everyone had talked about how Stapleton needed a duchess again. Well,” Natalia began as she regained her feet. “If you have visitors coming, I’d better make myself scarce. Send me a note when I can come to visit you again, and then when the fuss has died down and you’re free, we can talk properly about all the handsome young men you kissed while you were away.”
Jessica’s cheeks grew warm.
Natalia hugged her again and fortunately never saw Jessica’s discomfort. “I have missed you, Jess. I want to hear every delicious detail about your suitors when I see you next. Thank you again for the gifts.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Jessica promised. “Thank you for mine. I know just what to use the embroidery for.”
Natalia rushed out, and Jessica sank onto the settee beneath her window again, her thoughts on her uncertain future.
There had been no one she had wanted to encourage in London. There was not one single gentleman who had tried to steal a kiss from her, either. She was starting to worry there was something wrong with her. Half the young women she’d met in London were either married or engaged or being seriously courted. The others, women with pitifully small dowries, had better experiences to share with their friends about their season than Jessica would ever have. Her season had been a resounding failure all round.
Chapter 3
Gideon ran up the long flight of steps to Stapleton Manor on Saturday afternoon and knocked on the heavy oak door. He’d only just learned the duke’s family had returned the day before. It wasn’t normal for him to be so late calling on his friend. But he’d indulged in a great deal too much port at dinner last night with the Napiers and, as a consequence of it, he’d slept until midday.
The butler admitted him, all smiles. “Good afternoon, Mr. Whitfield. His grace expected to see you yesterday.”
“Mr. Brown.” He rushed to remove his hat and gloves then handed them over. “I’m sure he did.”
“The family is in the drawing room with their guests.”
Gideon hesitated in the act of smoothing his wavy hair. “Guests?”
Mr. Brown nodded. “The duke arranged for the surprise visit of her grace’s brother, wife, and children.”
He smiled but took a step back. “Perhaps I should return another time.”
A soft step sounded behind him. “Why would you believe you were not wanted today, Mr. Whitfield?”
Gideon pivoted slowly at the sound of Lady Jessica’s voice, his heart skipping a beat as he spotted her slender form moving toward him.
“I’ll see Mr. Whitfield to my father, Mr. Brown,” she murmured.
Jessica glided soundlessly across the parquetry, lips lifting at the corners—as if she had a secret she wanted to tell him. He’d seen that look so many times that his anticipation grew the nearer she came.
“Jess.” He said her name softly, because he should not use the diminutive form where a servant might hear. She did not seem very changed at first glance. Her uncovered dark hair was intricately coiled upon her head, her body elegantly swathed in yards of muslin.
A huge smile burst over her face as she stopped before him. Her hazel eyes glowed with happiness, and he bowed as Jess dipped into a perfect curtsy. He drank in her smiles and his heart lightened. Jessica had always been a happy child, and he was glad to see her months away had not changed that. She exuded confidence and good health, as ever.
His eyes dropped to a paper-wrapped package that crackled as she shifted it to her left hip. Jessica was always busy, always involved in some activity for the estate rather than idle mischief. No doubt he would find out about the contents of that package eventually.
“Father expected you to call yesterday, Giddy. So did I. Where have you been, sir!”
Her tone was slightly accusing, and he rushed to explain his absence. “I was late rising today and only just learned of your return. Forgive me, my lady.”
He reached for her hand. There was the slightest hesitation before her bare fingers slipped delicately over his calloused ones. Gideon squeezed her hand and then let her go. “I don’t wish to intrude on the reunion. I can come back another day.”
“And miss all the fun? Never.” Jess laughed. “Mama most definitely wants you to meet her brother while he is here. You will enjoy the stories Mr. Garland has shared about their childhood already this morning. I’ve been laughing so hard my sides hurt.”
He smiled at the mention of the new Duchess of Stapleton, a woman who had been Lady Jessica’s companion the last time they’d all been together. “Mama, is it?”
Jessica nodded decisively. “She’s the only mother I’ll ever know.”
He smiled despite the loss Jess had suffered as a child. She had never known her own mother, but had been raised by her grieving father, quarreling sisters and a string of efficient nurses. “Then we did a good thing last winter.”
Her eyes lit up with pleasure at the reminder of their combined matchmaking efforts for her father and beloved companion. It was an inspired idea, to help the duke admit his feelings had grown for Mrs. Gillian Thorpe beyond those of a mere employer, but it had required Jessica’s assistance and not a little private planning to pull it off. “We did indeed. Father has been made very happy by his marriage.”
Jessica’s smile dimmed slightly, and she set her package aside on a side table. She rested her hand on it a moment but then shook her head. “Come, Mr. Whitfield. His grace is eager to see you.”
Clearly whatever was contained in the parcel was unimportant. Gideon was almost disappointed, but when Jessica hooked her arm through his, Gideon couldn’t remain so as he looked down on her.
Jessica was not particularly tall, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. Gideon had watched over this girl—woman, he corrected himself—since she’d been a child, escorting her about when her father and siblings had been occupied elsewhere. She was out in society now. Eighteen at last and obviously quite assured.
He dragged his attention away from her as they stepped into the drawing room together.
The Duke of Stapleton sprang to his feet immediately, a smile as welcoming as Jessica’s beaming across the room. “About time, sir.”
“Your grace, welcome home,” he said, releasing Jessica so he could bow.
“None of that nonsense,” Stapleton exclaimed, rushing up to shake his hand vigorously. “Make yourself at home as you usually do.”
“As you wish,” he said as he hid his relief. He’d never assume he’d always be welcome, but he liked Stapleton very much, even if Gideon was a good deal younger than the duke, though with none of the status of a title to add to his distinction. Gideon studied his neighbor closely, noting his ease and appearance of good health. Stapleton must be pleased by the changes in his life by the look of it, too. He pounded Gideon’s shoulder suddenly with the excitement of a much younger man, and that made him laugh. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise,” the duke replied then gestured beside him.
Gideon turned to the new Duchess of Stapleton, formerly known as Mrs. Gillian Thorpe. “Your grace,” he said as he bowed deeply to the woman the duke had fallen head over heels in love with.
“Dear Whitfield,” she exclaimed, as she moved forward to take his hands. The duchess kissed both his cheeks in welcome. “Our truest friend.”
He grinned, though a little embarrassed by her warm welcome. The woman was positively glowing at him, but she looked paler than she’d formerly been. “I must say, marriage suits you.”
Her eyes sparkled briefly. “So says the man who made my happiness possible.”
He inclined his head. “It was not all my doing.”
He looked toward Jessica, but she’d already moved away. She sat primly on a single chair, watching him from a distance with a happy smile. He returned it, and then turned back to the duchess. “I had a willing accomplice.”
“Oh,
I know only too well the collusion you pair must have managed behind my back. And, no matter who dares to claim credit, I am very grateful,” her grace promised. She gestured to the couple standing behind her. “May I introduce my younger brother, Lincoln Garland, and his wife, Mrs. Hazel Garland? Their children are currently taking refreshments in the nursery.”
“They will empty the duchess’ vast kitchen if we are not careful, and run her poor servants ragged I fear,” Garland added, and then laughed good-naturedly as they shook hands. The fellow was tall, lanky even, and Gideon could see a strong resemblance to the duchess when Garland smiled.
“Welcome, Mr. Garland. Mrs. Garland. How long are you staying with their graces?”
“A few days at best,” Mrs. Garland murmured in a soft tone that revealed a woman of intelligence and polite manners. “My husband must return to his employment soon, but we could not miss this chance to meet my husband’s sister and discover how well she has done for herself. You have our gratitude, too, for bringing her back into our lives through her marriage to such a kind and gracious man.”
“Ah, I see Stapleton has you well fooled already,” Gideon teased, then grinned cheekily at Stapleton when he spluttered. “Wait till Christmas comes around, and you will see his grace’s true colors.”
“They see me as I really am, while you notice only fabrications of your vivid imagination,” the duke exclaimed. “And besides, I have changed my mind about the necessity of winter festivities. Great good can come from hanging mistletoe about the place.”
Stapleton caught his wife’s hand and kissed the back of it passionately.
Jessica laughed. “He says that now, but in December, he was raging the halls and complaining about the stuff!”
The duchess clucked her tongue. “Can you blame him? You two are nothing but trouble when you are together,” she chided.
Gideon pasted an innocent smile on his face because it was all too true that he and Jessica had been the ones hanging it up behind the duke’s back. They’d had great fun doing it, too. And then Jessica managed to slip some into her father’s pocket one evening, and a romance with Gillian had bloomed without help from then on.
Mr. Garland chuckled. “Mr. Whitfield, I am in your debt then, too. We have much to talk about, I think.”
Her grace laughed. “Please do not give my brother any ideas for when he visits us at Christmas. He used to play the most horrid tricks on me when we were young.”
Gideon liked the Garlands very much. They seemed like good people. “How convenient to have met a solicitor who might feel indebted to me.”
Garland raised one brow. “My gratitude only goes so far, sir.”
Gideon laughed and moved to sit on the empty chair nearest Jessica. “Definitely a relation of yours, your grace. Just as mistrustful as you have always been of me.”
Garland laughed and slapped his thigh. “I easily see now why you are so loved at Stapleton Manor, Mr. Whitfield. You amuse with hardly any effort.”
“The ladies must love his company,” Mrs. Garland teased, throwing a shy smile in his direction. “But is it true no one yet has claimed your heart?”
He straightened his waistcoat to hide his discomfort that the conversation had turned to his bachelor status already. “Obviously.”
Mrs. Garland shook her head. “Such a shame.”
“I’m much too old and set in my ways for marriage now.” He hoped the subject would end there.
The duke barked out a laugh. “At least until his head is finally turned. Then like every other unwed fellow, he will plunge into a pursuit with blinkers on and not think of the consequences for his life until it is too late,” the duke warned. “If only he’d fallen for one of my daughters, he would have been my favorite son-in-law,” the duke complained. “As it is, I must wait until he yearns for company and visits.”
Gideon tried not to wince. There had once been an unspoken expectation that Gideon might make a match with one of the duke’s older daughters. Thankfully, they had married men better suited to their temperaments. “I came as soon as I learned you were home.”
The duke looked on him fondly. “I suppose I must believe you, but no doubt you’ve never lacked company in our absence.”
As he was about to refute that claim, Jessica suddenly sprang to her feet.
“If you will excuse me,” she murmured. “I have something I must attend to.”
He was disappointment she would go so soon, but it was not unexpected. Jessica was an energetic sort, always running off somewhere.
They settled in to chat, and he listened to the duchess and her brother attempt to catch up on years of news in the space of an hour. The duke and duchess shared tidbits about their adventures in London, too, but he couldn’t help but notice there was no mention of a wedding for Jessica, or even a courtship underway. They said nothing of Jessica’s future, but perhaps they would not speak of it openly yet.
The duchess caught his eye. “Will you join us for dinner, Mr. Whitfield?”
Gideon glanced at the duke when the question registered fully. He had to decline. “If I’d known you were coming home so early, I would not have arranged for my own dinner party to be held tonight. It is much too late to alter the invitations or postpone the gathering.”
“We would not want you to alter anything on our account,” the duchess assured him, “but I am sure Lady Jessica will be disappointed not to have your company at dinner.”
“I’m sure she will not miss me very much,” he promised as he checked the time. “And I am afraid I really must take my leave now.”
Though they begged him to stay a little longer, Gideon had no choice but to say goodbye. He was determined that all was in readiness for his first dinner party in years and that nothing was left to chance.
He exited the manor via the front door but, having come on foot, he took the most direct path home—a path that ran alongside Jessica’s little greenhouse. He would say a private farewell if she were there. If not, he would hear about her season tomorrow.
He found her, talking to her plants once again. She dearly loved the greenhouse her father had gifted her with and, if left to her own agenda, would spend the bulk of the day coaxing them to grow with soft words of encouragement. “I hoped I would find you here.”
“Yes,” she said with a sad smile. “I am nothing if not predictable.”
He moved to stand near her, worried by her changed demeanor from her earlier happiness. He’d never known her to be sad at seeing him before. “Something is wrong. What is it?”
“Nothing.” She let out a shaky breath, turned away and, when she turned back, she had that parcel in her hands again. “Happy birthday.”
He shook his head. “It is not my birthday this year.”
She thrust the parcel at him anyway. “I don’t care what the calendar says. Everyone deserves a birthday present each year.”
He smiled at her stubborn insistence that he celebrate his growing older. Her confusion over his birthdate was one of his fondest memories. Being born on the twenty-ninth day of February, a day that only arrived every four years, perplexed a great many of his acquaintances at first.
“I don’t have a present for you,” he confessed quietly.
He’d considered it, but dismissed the notion almost immediately. Now he felt he should have gotten her something, even if it were only a new plant for her collection.
“Just seeing you again is present enough,” Jess promised, shaking him by the arm. “I wanted to spend my pin money on someone dear to me.”
He slowly turned the parcel over in his hands, noticing it contained something soft inside. Since presents were rare in his life, he liked to try to guess and draw out the moment for as long as possible. Today, he was baffled.
“Well, open it,” she insisted.
He set the parcel down on a worktable and pulled on the little string bow. Working slowly, he pulled the paper aside. He blinked…and then shook out a large dark blue garment. “Jessica! I
s this a gentleman’s banyan?”
“It is. Do you like the material?”
It was a very personal item to receive from anyone, and costly, too. He rubbed the dark blue brocade between his finger and thumb, then held the garment away from him to judge if it would fit him. It seemed large enough. “You should never have spent your pin money on me.”
“Try it on for me.”
He glanced around, but they were of course alone inside the greenhouse.
He swallowed, realizing that coming here was unwise. He should not be alone with her anymore. Anyone who found them alone together might get the wrong idea. Jess was no longer a little girl. “I cannot.”
She laughed softly. “Well, I can’t very well follow you home to see it on you there.”
“No, you most definitely should not do that,” Gideon exclaimed. “I have guests expected for dinner tonight.”
Jess stared at him with a concerned expression rather than the excitement he’d expected. “You will keep Mr. Lewis away from the candles this time, won’t you?”
He grinned and tweaked her nose. “Don’t worry, I’ll be lighting them myself.”
He glanced behind him, and then decided there would be no real harm if he tried on the garment so Jessica could see him in it just this once, if he were quick. He stripped off his brown coat and slipped his arms into the full sleeves of the blue banyan. Jessica assisted, standing behind him and smoothing the fabric over his shoulders.
Once the garment was in place, he turned to face her to get her opinion. “Well? How do I look?”
She sighed a little wistfully. “Exactly as I imagined. Blue has always suited you.”
Feeling a little warm from the compliment, he dropped his gaze and tried to see himself. He smoothed his hands down the beautiful material. The sleeves ended in deep, wide cuffs, and there were two pockets—one to carry his new eyeglasses in and the other a spare. He did not do up the buttons but they began at his neck and stopped midway down his thighs. The overall length was perfect, ending halfway along his calves. The inside was lined with patterned silk, and it was obviously quite expensive.
