by Heather Boyd
“The one that keeps you a bachelor.”
He stopped the girl immediately. “The only promises exchanged were to help you find a worthy husband.”
“Well, I made an amendment to the original agreement without telling either of you. It’s for the best, indeed. I mean to protect you from any lady who would try to take advantage of your kind nature.” She frowned as her mother joined them. Mrs. Hawthorne was puffing, and Natalia Hawthorne released him at last to go to her side. “Are you all right, Mama?”
“Yes, indeed,” she said, but she cast a sour expression toward the gathering of men drinking themselves into oblivion in the distance. Gideon noted Mr. Hawthorne quickly ducked out of sight.
“Mr. Whitfield has offered to escort us home, Mama. Isn’t that wonderful news?”
Gideon tried not to roll his eyes at that lie. “I was on my way home already.”
Mrs. Hawthorne, face more red than could be healthy, did not think to query her daughter’s bold statement. “Oh, that is good news, because my dears, I am dead on my feet from this heat.”
It wasn’t that hot outside, and he exchanged a worried glance with Miss Hawthorne. Thankfully, the walk to the Hawthorne residence was a short one, and Mrs. Hawthorne disappeared inside almost as soon as he urged her to go.
Miss Hawthorne, however, lingered by the gate, eyes full of worry.
“Is your mother unwell?”
“Oh, Mama is fine. These spells come and go. Nothing to worry about, and I must thank you again for escorting us home today.”
“And yet you are still frowning.”
“I’m a little troubled.” She looked at him a long moment, her expression assessing, before she spoke. “I realized today that you are a gentleman of such retiring habits that you may have become muddied about your appeal to the fairer sex.”
Usually, Miss Hawthorne’s sole concern when speaking to him was the appeal of other men, and how she might win them over. He stepped back from her quickly. “I do hope you have not now set your sights on me for a husband.”
“I would never dare!” But then she sighed. “But I must warn you that poor Mrs. Beck is no grieving widow. She’s said to be a Merry Widow. You know what that means, don’t you? I overheard Mama and her friend Mrs. Clay talking about her yesterday. I think Mrs. Beck came to the wake with the express purpose of meeting you—our most eligible bachelor. Did you not think it odd that she was introduced to you first, sir, and did not approach Mrs. Grieves?”
He shook his head, astonished by such ridiculous speculation. “Mrs. Beck felt the heat today, too, and perhaps became distracted by my suggestion that she get some air. I’m certain she did not mean to give offense to Mrs. Grieves.”
“She means to have you, I think.” Miss Hawthorne raised one haughty brow. “I trust I do not need to spell that out for you, too.”
“No, you do not,” he said quite indignantly. “Where do you get these ridiculous notions?”
“Oh, do settle your feathers, Mr. Whitfield, and don’t look at me as if I’m making this up. I know what I know and see. Mrs. Beck is a woman bent on seducing you.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, finding little to amuse him in the conversation. Natalia Hawthorne was turning into a managing sort of female. Just like her mother. “My private life is really none of your concern,” he said firmly, hoping to end the discussion.
Miss Hawthorne straightened, eyes wide. “You are my friend’s very good friend. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Of what? I have done nothing.” There was no reason Gideon had to live a chaste life, but he had chosen the path of bachelorhood years ago without regret. Natalia Hawthorne had no right to question his intentions if he did not. “And if I ever did something as you suggest I’m considering, it will be my own business entirely.”
Miss Hawthorne frowned severely. “Lady Jessica will not like this situation when she learns of it. It’s her birthday.”
Lady Jessica Westfall would be married to a peer by now, or very soon would be, and he would be content to know she’d be celebrating in fine company. “What happens in my personal life could hardly be of interest to the duke’s daughter.”
Chapter 2
April 16th, 1819
Stapleton Manor
* * *
“I can assure you, Lord James and I will never make a match,” Jessica insisted as she finished unpacking her possession onto her dressing table at Stapleton Manor and then glanced around. “He’s set to marry Lady Hannah Alexander within a fortnight, I’m sure.”
Jessica’s companion, Natalia Hawthorne, collapsed on the settee. “But I was so certain he’d offer for you. He was so attentive when he visited the estate at Christmas.”
“Lord James found someone else to pay his addresses to very quickly it seems. Lady Hannah Alexander is very popular within the ton, especially with bachelors known to want a beautiful wife. She never lacked for a dance partner and is often surrounded by half a dozen gentlemen whenever not. Her season was bound to end in a marriage. I hardly saw him.” Jessica shrugged. “Men are truly puzzling creatures. Saying one thing but then behaving another.”
“They often do that,” Natalia agreed.
“I thought we might at least have become friends once.” However, once within the arms of the ton, Lord James had all but ignored her existence. “I shouldn’t grumble that Lord James singled her out when I never really wanted him around. I’m actually impressed he chose with his heart rather than his purse, because he’s in rather desperate need of funds to repair the tattered estate he’s to inherit soon and her dowry was quite small.”
“But I was sure he’d choose you.”
“So was my family, but it seemed we were all wrong in the end. He liked her more.” Jessica was glad for Lord James. The last thing she wanted to do was marry a fortune hunter. The last three month’s in Town had wiped away her amusement with the polite world. She had seen and heard much in London that troubled her but she was, she supposed, at last seeing the world as it really was and not the fantasy everyone had told her to expect.
Natalia picked up a silk pillow and plumped it on her lap. “So you are back home for now, but how soon before you leave again?”
Jessica looked at her friend in surprise. “I’ve no intention of returning to London.”
Natalia gaped. “But Jessica, your season has barely begun. You have to go back.”
She sat close to Natalia on the settee. “I have done what my father wanted. I had the pleasure of seeing him and mother married in London, made my presentation, and danced and sampled the amusements of the great city. But as much as I wanted to please them, I was miserable the whole time I was away.”
“Well, if I had my way, I’d never say no to a season in London, or a second or a third,” Natalia promised with a rueful laugh.
“I know you wouldn’t.” She squeezed Natalia’s hand. “And I’ve been thinking about this. If they force me to go back, I’ll insist you and your mother join us in London. We’ll find you a husband there.”
Natalia hugged her. “Would you? Mother would be so excited. She’s always talking about her one trip to London. I want to see the city, too, even if I never find a husband. I’d be forever in your debt for those memories.”
“Now it’s your turn. I want all the latest news of the district. Letters are much too brief to share all that must have happened since the week after Christmas.”
Jessica, her father, and her future mother, Gillian Thorpe, had left in something of a hurry in the first week of January, with tight lips about the real reason they were going to London so suddenly. Father’s marriage had come as something of a surprise to many, but Jessica was proud to call Gillian mother. Her own had died when Jessica was very little, and she’d always felt the lack.
Natalia sat sideways on the settee to face Jessica. “Well, let me see. I told you about old Mr. Grieves passing. His wake lasted until well into the next day. There were…” Natalia leaned close to whi
sper some details that made Jessica’s eyes widen in shock. “I couldn’t put any of that in a letter. Father was so disguised after the wake that mother didn’t speak to him for a whole week.”
Jessica winced. “I’m sorry to hear your parents found another reason to quarrel.”
“I’m growing used to it.” Natalia shrugged. “Mr. Whitfield saw us home that day.”
Jessica sat forward, eager for news of her neighbor. She hadn’t spoken to Gideon Whitfield since January. That was unusual and not at all pleasant. “That was good of him.”
“Mother was terribly fatigued.”
“I trust Mrs. Hawthorne is in good health now,” Jessica asked quickly. Natalia’s mother was a sweet, motherly kind of woman, but had spent a considerable amount of time on her fainting couch before Christmas.
“Oh, yes. Mother promised it was just the heat of the day affecting her.” Natalia scowled suddenly. “Mr. Whitfield has been very attentive while you were gone. He certainly kept his promise to you.”
Jessica grinned. She’d asked Mr. Whitfield to keep an eye on Natalia while she’d been gone, make sure she stayed out of trouble and discreetly warn away any unsavory types. Natalia was much too fond of flirting with handsome scoundrels. “I’m glad.”
“I wasn’t,” Natalia grumbled. “He proved too good at the task you set him, but we have not seen very much of him of lately though.”
“He’s not unwell, is he?” Jessica frowned. “Oh dear, and he has only Mrs. Mills and Mrs. Harrow to tend him. Mr. Lewis is next to useless as a valet. I’ll ask Mother to call at Quigley Hill to see if there is anything we can do for him.”
Natalia grabbed her hand and held her in place when she would have stood up and rushed off to find her new mother. “He’s not ill.”
Jessica subsided onto the settee with relief. “Well, why didn’t you say so straight away? You know we worry about him. Mr. Whitfield is simply dreadful at taking care of himself, living alone the way he does, hardly enough servants to run the house efficiently.”
A gentle smile played over Natalia’s lips. “I am sorry I worried you. I thought perhaps you would have heard already, and that is why you returned early.”
“Heard what? We only just arrived at home.”
Natalia eased closer. “I thought you and Mr. Whitfield might have corresponded.”
“No, of course we’ve not exchanged letters. That wouldn’t be proper,” Jessica protested. But she would have written him if she’d been allowed. “Father would have shared any news with me if it were important.”
“Perhaps not about this matter.” Natalia caught her hand and squeezed tightly. “Mr. Whitfield is expected to marry soon, my dear.”
Jessica could only stare, blinded by shock and utter disbelief. “Nonsense. He’s said he’d never marry a dozen times. Who is spreading such terrible gossip about him?”
“Well, everyone.” Natalia sat back. “And it’s not false speculation, either. Mrs. Napier’s widowed sister has come to live with them, and I’ve seen her with Mr. Whitfield nearly every day since.”
Whitfield married? Never in a million years would Jessica ever have imagined that. He was much too particular about…well, everything, especially his independence and privacy. Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Who is she?”
“Mrs. Alice Beck. She’s a widow and has two sons to raise, so her sister brought her here to live with them. The boys are often running along the road to visit Quigley Hill.”
Jessica shook her head again, dismissing the gossip as idle speculation. “Mr. Whitfield is very tolerant of children.”
“He has dined with Mrs. Beck.”
Jessica stilled. “He hosted a dinner at Quigley Hill?”
“No, nothing so obvious as that.” Natalia peered at her. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Good. The last time Mr. Whitfield tried to host a dinner, Mr. Lewis lit too many candles in the dining room. That carelessness spoiled a beautiful table cloth and could have burned down the house.” Jessica jumped to her feet and rooted around in her small trunk until she found the present she’d purchased for Natalia. She turned, smiling, and held out the package. “Now before I forget again, Happy Birthday, for last month.”
Natalia shrieked. “You remembered!”
“Of course I remembered.” Jessica hugged Natalia quickly. “You’re one of my best friends.”
“My turn.” Natalia lifted her shawl from the settee, revealing a small parcel lying beneath. “Happy Birthday for this month.”
Jessica laughed and untied her present in a rush. Natalia had gifted her a piece of embroidery. Her needlework was as always very fine, much better than Jessica’s varied attempts. “This is perfect.”
Natalia rushed to untie her package then. Inside, she would discover a pair of elegant evening gloves and a matching silk shawl. Each item was purchased, but Jessica hoped she would love them just the same.
Natalia held each up to the light from the window to view them better. “Oh, my!”
“Do you like them? I know they’re a little plain, but I’m sure you can embroider something on each if you like.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing about them.” Natalia wiped at her eyes quickly. “This is too much.”
“Nonsense.” But Jessica’s eyes misted with tears, too. “Every lady should have a perfect pair of evening gloves and a pretty shawl to wrap around her shoulders. Especially one trying to attract a husband.”
Natalia laughed dismissively. “My prospects are still quite slim, but I’m sure the addition of these gloves and a silk shawl will increase my appeal tremendously. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” They hugged again, and everything was almost right with Jessica’s world. She was home but she had one more birthday gift to deliver—to Mr. Whitfield—before the end of the day.
Unfortunately, Giddy simply hated anyone to make a fuss about his birthday. He tended to become embarrassed when the subject of his growing older was mentioned, too. More so if an event was made of his birthday with any sort of celebration.
Mr. Whitfield had arrived in the world on the twenty-ninth day of February, a date that occurred once every four years. He was only seven years old, if one only counted those occasions. Once he’d said he’d gone eight whole years between birthday celebrations. That sounded ghastly to Jessica, who found any excuse to celebrate important events.
Regardless of the lack of February twenty-nine this year, Jessica felt the month of his birth should be marked with a present, now that she was old enough to have pin money of her own to spend.
Natalia tugged on her gown to reclaim her attention. “You seem no different after your season. I thought you might have changed.”
“I may have traveled, but I am still the same woman I was before,” Jessica promised. But she was a young woman armed with a great deal more knowledge of men than when she’d left her home. The few days she’d spent with her older sister Fanny while Mother and Father celebrated their marriage alone had opened her eyes to another world of secrets and seductions. Fanny, an independent widow, and her friends had talked openly about gentlemen they liked, spoke of making love in a way that suggested all of them enjoyed their lovers immensely. Fanny, too, enjoyed a more liberal existence than Jessica had ever known was possible for a woman.
“Good. I had hoped we’d still be as close as we were becoming at Christmas. It’s been so dull around here without you.” Natalia leaned forward. “Now, I have been waiting with great patience, but please, tell me everything about London. What was it like?”
“Dirty and noisy,” she answered without hesitation.
“I meant the gentlemen vying for your hand, silly,” Natalia chided.
Jessica wrinkled her nose. “I knew what you meant, and my answer is still the same.”
Natalia chortled with laughter. “So the gentlemen in London are no different to their country cousins.”
Jessica winced. “There was very little difference and few who deserve the term gentle
man.”
Natalia arched her brow. “Was there no one like Mr. Whitfield to charm you with talk of fungus at dinner?”
Gideon Whitfield it seemed was unique among men. Clever. Witty. Dependable. “None at all. Many titled lords speak only of horses, wagers and politics. They smother themselves in perfumes and reek of cigar by night’s end.”
Natalia’s expression grew serious once more. “You never said if you’d found a man to marry there.”
“I did not,” she admitted.
“Out of all of London’s most eligible bachelors?”
She rubbed her brow. “Please do not be cross with me, too.”
“Oh, I’m not. Never that. But I am disappointed that none could see the jewel you are. Are your parents very upset with you? Or is it your sister stirring the pot again?”
She shrugged, feeling foolish and awkward. “Mother and Father have never said they were disappointed in me, but the way their smiles diminished each morning when we talked of any potential suitors is hint enough that they were concerned by my lack of success.”
“Then why have you come home so early? I wasn’t expecting you to return for another month at least. Were you involved in a scandal? Did you kiss someone you should not have?”
“No.” Jessica laughed softly and answered only Natalia’s first question. “My father brought us home to surprise Gillian with the arrival of her brother and family tomorrow, but he is so terrible at keeping secrets that I knew well before we left London what we were coming home for.”
Natalia’s smile diminished. “So you’ll be too busy with guests to see much of anyone.”
“Not too busy to see you,” she promised. “Mr. and Mrs. Garland have two sons, both younger than eight years old. I will not be required to amuse them. I expect Gillian will want to spend every spare moment getting to know her family again. She has not seen them for a very long time.”
Natalia smiled broadly. “The duke is so sweet to arrange that. Mama has been positively gloating—knowing about the marriage before everyone else read the announcement posted in the village. I never thought his grace would wed again, least of all your beloved companion.”