by Jenn LeBlanc
Much has happened from the moment I quit the estate.
I endeavor to return as expediently as possible.
There is much to discuss.
I promise to send word.
Love to Francine, Westy, and the girls.
P.
Gideon read the letter again for any hints of Perry’s thoughts, but found none. He took the stack of papers Perry had dispatched from the solicitors and settled in for several hours.
Mrs. Weston roamed the manor, making sure guests were settled and that everyone who was hungry made their way to the back terrace overlooking the gardens for the buffet Chef had set up. There were trays covered with fresh fruits from the orangery, sliced vegetables from the gardens, and cut meats accompanied by thick, savory, and sweet sauces and biscuits.
Davis was busy putting up horses and carriages; Meggie, Carole, and Melinda showed the lady’s maids around their ladies’ suites; and Ferry and Aldon familiarized the visiting valets and footmen. The manor hadn’t seen such activity since the time of Marcus.
Francine walked out to the terrace to find the Dowager Countess of Greensborough and Lady Alice. She waved them over, kissing their cheeks.
“Oh, Lady Greensborough, I’ve missed you. How did you sneak past me?” Francine asked.
“Well, I’m not quite sure, my lady. We have missed you as well, and your devilish counterpart. Where is he, anyway?”
“He’s working, of course. He’ll join the party soon, I think.”
They linked arms and walked toward the gardens.
“My lady?” Francine asked the countess. “Was the earl a kind gentleman? Or was he a boor?”
Lady Alice coughed and the countess laughed, patting Francine’s hand.
Francine glanced at the countess, realizing how unseemly her statement was. “Oh, I didn’t mean—”
The countess waved off her apology with a smile. “Please don’t, I understand what you’re asking. My late husband, Phineas, God rest him, was a wonderful husband and a wonderful man, though we were not originally a love match as you and Roxleigh. I was promised to the earl at a very young age. Love was entirely unheard of back then as a reason for marriage, but we did love each other, which made it magic. I suppose that’s why I do my best by my adorable Alice here. She reminds me of myself, once I realized the earl was actually the man I would have chosen for a husband, had I a choice.” She smiled at her granddaughter, then at Francine.
“My lady—” Francine started again.
“Do call me Gelema, dear. I am terribly tired of my title. Without my husband to accompany it, it simply doesn’t mean much.”
“And you will call me Francine,” she said as she smiled back. “Gelema, I am so glad to have met you.”
As they rounded the terrace three women, the first aged closer to Gelema and the other two younger than Francine, walked toward them briskly.
“Lady Greensborough,” she said to Gelema then, “My lady,” she said down her nose to Francine.
Gelema smiled curtly at the Countess of Rigsby as she leaned into Francine. “Pay this wretch no mind. She is lucky for her title and unhappy in its bearing. There is no doubt she’s jealous of you. Not to mention that these two girls just came out for the Season, rushed actually, with the sole purpose of meeting your duke,” she said with a nudge.
“Well, then we must all become friends, if only to annoy the Lady Rigsby.”
Gelema smiled.
“Why has the duke been kept hidden from his guests?” Lady Rigsby asked haughtily.
“Why, Lady Rigsby, he isn’t hidden,” Francine said. “He merely has business to attend now, so that he will be free to enjoy the events to come.”
The woman wrinkled her nose and snorted. Then introduced her nieces.
Francine smiled and turned to the girl named Maitland. “Were you at the duke’s ball in London? You look familiar.”
“Why yes, my lady.” She curtseyed. “Actually, I had the honor of a waltz with Lord Trumbull that night, immediately following your betrothal,” she said with a timid smile.
“Yes, of course. Lord Trumbull was endeavoring to be my champion. I’m told he’s an amazing dancer.”
“Yes, my lady, he was, quite,” Maitland replied shyly.
The Countess of Rigsby grunted. “A scandal is what that was. Highly inappropriate. He wasn’t introduced and he didn’t bow. He merely swept her out to the floor with no preamble. Highly untoward.” She grunted again.
Francine smiled broadly and leaned toward the small brunette girl with the big brown eyes. “Quite romantic, if you ask me.”
The girl’s face lit up brightly and she nodded, though only after making sure her aunt wasn’t paying attention.
“Well, I do hope you ladies enjoy your stay here at Eildon Hill. There are ruins if you are interested. I haven’t even been yet. Perhaps the ladies would like to picnic? I could bring the sisters—you should meet them.”
The countess, uncaring of the younger girls’ acceptance, turned on Francine. “Considering the state of your propriety, I don’t believe my charges will be accompanying you anywhere without a chaperone,” she spat.
Francine frowned and turned away momentarily. She knew of the distaste of some of the ton, but hadn’t yet been verbally assaulted by anyone. Her heart sank.
Gelema leveled a strong eye on the haughty woman. “I will be attending the ladies, as will the sisters’ governess. That should carry enough propriety for anyone, wouldn’t you say, Ernestine?” she drawled.
“Yes, I— Yes, of course.”
“This afternoon then, my lady?” Francine asked.
“Fine. Ladies, you should rest so you have your energy,” she said. The younger ladies curtseyed and followed the cranky older woman into the manor.
“What was that about?” Francine asked once they had gone.
Gelema laughed. “Well, I imagine the fact that this extended gathering has called all the eligible peers away from the London Season, and the fact that Lady Rigsby was required to follow them for her charges, has got her drawers in a twist.”
Francine glanced at the dowager countess as Lady Alice paled from the boldness of the comment and they all laughed, then returned to the manor.
When they strolled through the great entrance Francine was drawn to the doors of the study. Placing her hand on the seam, she smiled brightly.
“Gideon,” she whispered to herself.
The door opened swiftly and he was there like a memory recalls déjà vu. Her hand pressed against his chest before she realized and she looked up at him.
The countess, knowing, and Lady Alice, curious, watched the exchange carefully. Gelema could see the way he looked down at Francine—his eyes passionate and intent. She remembered that look from her earl and she took a sudden silent breath and turned her head away, a tear at the corner of her eye.
Gideon watched her as Francine turned, remembering they were not alone. He walked to Lady Alice, bowing over her hand and making her blush, then he bowed before the dowager countess, taking her hand.
She laughed, leaning her head back and covering her mouth as she tried to disengage the duke, but he refused.
He peered up at her with a devilish grin. “My lady, you are a treasure. Your family has no idea what a precious gem you are, do they?”
“Oh, Your Grace, I believe some of them know, others perhaps not as much.”
He released her hand, smiling broadly. “My beautiful wife— Hmm. My beautiful fiancée has no true family to speak of, you know. I wonder...if you wouldn’t mind acting on her behalf at times. She is quite taken with you. You could visit anytime you wished, and remain for as long as it pleased. I’ve no doubt Lady Francine would enjoy your company to no end.”
“Well, Your Grace, that is quite an invitation. I’m simply overwhelmed and happily accept the offer, if it pleases your fiancée.”
They turned to Francine, who blushed from the sudden scrutiny. “Your Grace, my lady, the offer is beyond my wi
ldest dreams.” She looked up to Gideon. “You have once again seen into my heart and discovered a need I had not realized was there. Thank you.”
He bowed, kissing her wrist and turning back to the study.
“Gideon?”
“Yes, my sweet.”
“Any news of Trumbull?”
He shook his head, his gaze falling.
“And what of you?”
“Not much longer, my love, then I am all yours.” He gave her a half smile as he backed into the study, pushing the doors closed.
“Well, Francine, I must say it is difficult to be around him. He is quite charming and so very handsome,” Gelema said. “He does remind me of my Phineas.” They turned for the staircase.
Francine frowned. “I wouldn’t want the attention to cause you pain, my lady.”
“Oh no, dear sweet child, not like that. It’s difficult to remember him at times. Distance turns our memories against us, you see. Seeing your duke brings them back, and though I am grieved by the earl’s passing, I am enlivened by the return of the memories.”
“I don’t believe the world truly understands what you have there, my lady,” Alice said suddenly, turning to Francine at the top of the grand staircase.
“No, they don’t, do they? I suppose nobody ever took the time to look. His true nature is only just beneath the surface.”
“And what a surface it is!” Alice said.
Gelema and Francine’s eyes went wide and the three laughed in a raucous, unladylike fashion as Gelema swatted Alice on the arm in admonition.
Alice blushed, then glanced at Francine repentantly. “I was referring to his notorious demeanor, Lady Francine, honest.”
“Mmm hmm...” Francine said coyly. “Oh! There is something I would like to share with both of you.”
The countess smiled and nodded and they followed her.
They entered her private chamber.
“Well, it has been a while since last I saw this room. His Grace did this for you?”
Francine looked at the countess. “You’ve been here before?” she asked, following Gelema over to the large comfortable chairs close to the windows.
The countess nodded. “Melisande was a dear friend.” Then to Alice: “The former Duchess of Roxleigh was a precious soul. Strong and willful, exquisitely beautiful. Her hair was dark as night, and she had deep green eyes to match her sons’.”
“Does Roxleigh know you were acquainted?”
“I’m not certain. He was still so very young when his sire stopped allowing us to visit Eildon. I expect he knows Phineas and Darius were friends, but—” The countess sighed, looking out over the meadows.
“I wish you would tell him about his mother. That’s something I cannot give him, a pain I cannot touch in his eyes.”
“I will. Someday we will reconcile his memory with mine. It was a tragedy what happened. I believe his father was pulled in the wrong direction, when all he wanted was to help his wife.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“No,” the countess said brusquely. “I won’t cross that bridge with you, not before I cross it with Roxleigh. What happened with Melisande is something you should learn from him, not I. One day we will all discuss it. Until then, know that these are not secrets kept to damage you, but to prevent pain and to offer healing—when the time is right.”
Francine took her hand. She wanted to return the carefree expression to Gelema that she’d worn before coming to this room, which still held so many shadows for her.
The ladies sat for a while, gazing out the grand windows at the estate. “I suppose we should ready for our excursion,” Francine said, breaking the reverie.
“Of course.” Gelema took her granddaughter by the elbow. “Let’s away, and allow our hostess to ready. We shall meet you at the grand entrance soon.”
Francine laughed and carried on gaily despite the looks and grumbles she endured from many guests for wearing trousers and riding astride. She didn’t pay them any mind, but the younger girls shifted uncomfortably, wanting to be more like her, not wanting to care about what others thought. She was thankful that the Countess of Rigsby wasn’t joining them.
It turned out that Miss Faversham was quite adept with a small carriage, and once they got far enough away from the manor the group of women had a wonderful time chatting and defying propriety by using first names, talking about body parts, illnesses, marriage, and love. They enjoyed themselves so much that the sun began to sink in the sky before they realized they needed to return to the manor to ready for supper.
Francine rode ahead of the carriage stuffed with women to alert Davis, but when she arrived at the stables she found Gideon waiting for her.
“My lady, we have missed our ride the past few days. Would it be terribly improper for me to ask a favor?”
“And what would that be, Your Grace?”
“I would ask to accompany you now on a ride,” Gideon said.
Francine nodded as Delilah shifted under her. “And what of our guests?”
Gideon thought for a moment then spied the returning phaeton, covered in giggling women. He was taken aback by the amount of happiness exuding from the vehicle and he smiled, walking over to attend them. One by one, the ladies took his hand and dismounted the carriage with a curtsey to their host. The last to step down was the dowager countess. He kissed her hand and held her attention.
“My lady, would you mind entertaining our guests at supper?”
She studied him, struck by the question. “That depends, Your Grace. Am I personally required to see that each and every guest enjoys themselves?”
“No, my lady. Simply act in my stead as host and certainly endeavor to enjoy yourself. I merely wish to attend to my betrothed. I have ignored her a bit much as of late.”
She looked at Francine, who was still astride Delilah, and the corner of her mouth turned up. “Your Grace, I would be happy to direct the entertainment on your behalf tonight, if—”
“Yes, my lady?”
“If it is what my dear friend Francine desires of me.”
He smiled and looked to Francine.
“Yes, Gelema, that is what I desire,” Francine answered, as stoically as she could.
“So be it. Shall I send for a chaperone?” she shouted over her shoulder as she walked toward the manor, then before either could answer, she added wickedly, “All right then, have a wonderful evening.”
Gideon smiled and turned toward Francine. He removed her boot from the stirrup and jumped astride Delilah behind her, taking the reins and turning the mare for the meadow. Francine let out a peal of laughter that caused all the guests outside of the manor to pause.
The next morning Gideon joined the festivities, mostly unbound from the requirements of the business of his title. He joined the hunting party early, then luncheon on the back terrace. He sat with Francine, who was at this point inseparable from the dowager countess and Lady Alice.
Mr. Shaw walked out to the terrace and Gideon called him over. They whispered and Shaw smiled, taking Gideon’s seat as the duke stood and bid good day to his guests.
Gideon walked to Francine, kissing her wrist and then turning to the countess. “My lady, won’t you accompany me for a walk? I heard you were interested in my hedgerow maze and, since I’ve forbidden anyone from entering it, I would like to give you a tour.”
The countess stood. “Yes, Your Grace, I would very much enjoy that.”
Gideon gave Shaw a pointed look, then placed her hand on his arm and covered it with his, leading her into the maze.
When they reached the center the countess walked to the fountain with a grand smile. “It is as beautiful as I remember it.”
“I knew the earl, God rest his soul, was friends with my father. How well did you know my mother?” he asked, leaning on the edge of the fountain.
“Your Grace—”
“Please, call me Roxleigh.”
“Roxleigh. I believe I knew her as well as any friend could have
. She loved you very much, but that goes without saying.”
“I was not the most wonderful son, I’m afraid,” he said quietly.
“You weren’t given much of a chance. A boy cannot protect his mother from things that are beyond a child’s control.”
He shook his head.
She took his hand in hers, as a mother would her son. “Listen to me. Your father had no idea how to help her. He was told her illness was curable. How could he not try?”
“What was it that needed curing?” he asked, looking at his hand in hers.
“It was a great and powerful sadness. It would overtake her mind, her body, even her soul, sometimes for weeks. She would lock herself in her chamber, refusing visitors, refusing Darius, refusing even you,” she said. “It was heartrending.” Her voice wavered. Until that week, she hadn’t spoken of her friend in many years, and the memories flooded her like the tears to her eyes.
Gideon’s eyes glowed fiercely with threatened emotion. “Why was she taken away, if her only crime was sadness?”
“Mrs. Weston found Melisande standing on the windowsill, wailing. They believed she meant to take her life. Darius would have let her continue, protected here at Eildon, of that I am sure, but when she became so distraught that she nearly died, he was afraid for her. He was told they would help her. He was told she would be safe, and she would return home.”
“But she didn’t,” Gideon said, his voice distant.
“No, she didn’t. I visited her there until Darius disallowed me. He didn’t want anyone to remember her that way, in that horrible place. Once she was there, the beautiful Melisande I knew never returned.”
“Thank you. I have always wondered why. I only ever remembered her smiling face, and, once it was gone, my father’s anger.”
“You mustn’t blame him. Without her he was lost. And when he could not bring her from the sadness, it broke him. I see him in you more and more. He was such a passionate man. You love much like your father did.”
“Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”
“Do you think you were ready before now?”