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Authors: Candace Camp

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BOOK: The Hidden Heart
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“It is more that they invited themselves,” Jessica explained. “They arrived here yesterday evening, claiming to have gotten lost driving from Norfolk to London.”

“They went through Yorkshire?”

Jessica shrugged. “I didn’t say that Lord Vesey was clever at making up stories. However, here they were, and it was late, and the duke finally allowed them to spend the night. They were to have left this morning, but on the way down the stairs, it would appear that her ladyship fell and hurt her ankle. ‘Broke her ankle,’ as she would have it.”

Jessica then proceeded to describe the scene she had witnessed at the bottom of the stairs that morning, imitating the Veseys to such perfection that Lady Westhampton was soon laughing helplessly.

“That woman’s gall knows no bounds,” Rachel said at last. “But I don’t understand why they are doing this. Surely she cannot expect to snare Richard. I mean, I am sure she is looking for a wealthy man to help support her ways now that Dev is gone, but…Richard? Doesn’t she know that he despises her? Everyone in the family does.”

Suddenly some of the gossip that Jessica’s good friend Viola had written clicked into place. Viola had told her that Lady Vesey had carried on an almost public affair for years with the Earl of Ravenscar, Devin Aincourt, and that she had lost him several months ago to an American heiress. The entire Ton had been abuzz with gossip about it. Now Jessica realized that the “brother Dev” of whom Lady Westhampton spoke was the Devin Aincourt who had been under Lady Vesey’s spell for so long—and his bride would be none other than the selfsame American heiress whom much of London society would like to congratulate for besting Lady Vesey.

“I think that Lady Vesey would have difficulty conceiving that any man might not succumb to her charms,” Jessica replied. “Certainly she has been flirting madly with him every moment that he is around.” With a grin she added, “I have noticed that the duke has made himself scarce around here today.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” Rachel said feelingly. “Still, why would she have chosen Richard, of all people? It cannot simply have been an accident, their stopping here. And who would take her husband with her on a seduction attempt?”

“Oh, no. It was no accident. I am not sure exactly what Lady Vesey hopes to gain by this, but I know why Lord Vesey is here.” She explained the loathesome Vesey’s relationship to Gabriela, as well as his desire to be her guardian instead of Richard. “So I think when they found out we had come here immediately after the funeral, he decided to follow us. Perhaps he thinks his wife will be able to charm the duke into giving him Gabriela.”

“As if Richard would ever think of such a thing!” Rachel exclaimed indignantly. “However much he might not wish to be her guardian, Richard would never turn anyone over to a snake like Lord Vesey.”

“I know. I was afraid at first that he might, when he did not desire to be Gabriela’s guardian, but I have come to realize that he is far too honorable to do that, and too aware of Vesey’s true nature.”

They were interrupted by Baxter, who carried in a large silver tray containing a teapot and cups, as well as the plates of sandwiches and cakes necessary for afternoon tea.

“I thought you might welcome a little refreshment, my lady,” he said, beaming at Rachel.

“Thank you, Baxter. You are right, as always. It is so good to see you.”

Baxter set the tray down on the low table in front of the sofa. “And you, Lady Westhampton. I know His Grace will be happy that you are here. I sent one of the footmen to get him. He was walking in the garden with Miss Gabriela.”

“Gabriela!” Jessica exclaimed in astonishment.

Baxter turned to her with a smile and a significant look. “Yes, miss. Exactly.”

His words were confirmed a moment later when the duke himself entered the room, Gabriela on his heels. “Rachel!”

For the first time since she had met him, Jessica saw Cleybourne’s face lit by a smile. It was amazing, she thought, how very handsome the man was when he smiled. Happiness altered his features subtly, softening the rather stark lines of his cheeks and jaw. Jessica’s stomach did a curious little flip-flop at the sight of him.

“It is wonderful to see you,” he said as he crossed the room to Lady Westhampton, who had stood up when he entered the room. He placed his hands on her shoulders, beaming down at her, and bent to kiss her cheek.

Another feeling, far less pleasant, sizzled through Jessica. It occurred to her suddenly that the duke might harbor feelings for Lady Westhampton that were not precisely brotherly. Lady Westhampton clearly resembled her dead sister quite a bit; even Jessica, who had not known the duchess, could see the similarity in the two women’s features. Lady Westhampton was perhaps not as striking as Cleybourne’s wife had been. Rachel’s features were softer and somewhat more subdued. But their hair and eyes were the same color and their faces enough alike that anyone would have guessed they were sisters. And being so closely related, there were bound to be other similarities, mannerisms and tones of voice, even laughter.

Loving his dead wife the way Cleybourne had, it seemed reasonable to Jessica that he might have been drawn to this woman who must remind him of her.
Did he harbor feelings for her?

He turned, and his gaze fell upon Jessica. She stood up, feeling suddenly awkward. He must be disappointed to find her here, she thought, and was surprised by the fact that the thought hurt.

“I’m sorry. I am sure the two of you would like a chance to visit alone. If you will excuse me…”

“No, don’t leave,” Lady Westhampton protested. “We haven’t even had our tea yet. Tell her to stay, Richard.”

“Yes. Of course you must stay, Miss Maitland. We shall all have tea.” Cleybourne seemed almost jovial. He turned and held his hand out toward Gabriela, motioning for her to step forward. “Rachel, you must allow me to present Gabriela Carstairs to you. She is Roddy Carstairs’ daughter. Do you remember her?”

“Yes, of course. Miss Maitland was just telling me about you, Gabriela.” Rachel smiled warmly. “It is nice to meet you.”

“Pleased to meet you, my lady,” Gabriela responded, giving her an excellent curtsy.

“You look very much like your mother,” Rachel went on. “But there is something of Roddy Carstairs about your eyes.”

“That is just what the duke said,” Gabriela rejoined happily.

“Come, sit down and let us have tea.” Rachel began the ritual of pouring tea for all of them. “I hope you are enjoying it here at the castle, Gabriela. It can be a trifle medieval, I’ve found.”

“You wrong it, Rachel. It is a cozy enough place,” Cleybourne said.

Rachel laughed. “Yes, if you find a great pile of stones cozy.”

“It reminds me of a castle in a book I once read,” Gabriela piped up. “Except that one was in France, and there was a wicked count who lived there.”

“It is precisely the sort of place where one would expect to find a wicked count,” Lady Westhampton agreed with a twinkle in her eye. “And perhaps a ghost or two.”

“Oh, yes. And dungeons. There are dungeons here. Baxter showed them to us.”

“Cellars,” Cleybourne said firmly, but there was a smile lurking about his mouth. “They are merely cellars. A few times there may have been some prisoners kept there, but they were not dungeons.”

He glanced over at Jessica, who was watching him.
Jessica…
Knowing her name now, he found himself wanting to say it. Her eyes were clear blue and steady as she gazed at him, and there was something about them that always made him feel as if she could look right through him. Richard suddenly remembered the dream he had had the other night and the way those eyes had looked, gazing up at him in the heat of passion. He flushed and turned away quickly. “I…I am most surprised to see you here, Rachel. I had thought you were going back to Westhampton for Christmas.”

Rachel blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “Why, yes, I am. But, as you know, I stopped first at Dev’s to see him and Miranda. That is where I received your note telling me of your intention of coming to Castle Cleybourne. So I thought it was a perfect opportunity for me to drop by on my way to Westhampton and see if I could persuade you to come have Christmas with Michael and me.”

“It seems a long way round to go from Derbyshire to the Lake District by way of Yorkshire,” Cleybourne commented dryly, smiling a little to take the sting out of the words.

“Well, you know me. Michael says I have no sense of direction,” Rachel responded lightly.

“It is very kind of you to offer. However, I am afraid that I must decline.”

“Yes, I see now that you have guests. Or, rather, new residents, I should say. And of course it is important for Gabriela to have Christmas at her new home.”

Jessica wondered if he would tell Lady Westhampton that he did not intend to keep Gabriela. It was a perfect opening for it. She watched with heightened interest as the duke nodded then glanced away without saying anything. Jessica felt her heart lifting in her chest.
Did he mean not to ask Lady Westhampton to take Gabriela, after all?
Seeing him coming in the door with Gabriela had given her hope. Had he actually walked with her in the garden? Surely that meant he had softened toward the girl.

“Uh, yes.” Richard shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. He had spent most of the morning writing and rewriting a letter to Rachel asking if she and Michael would take over guardianship of Gabriela. It had been difficult to find the right words to explain why he could not take the child. Now he found that it was equally difficult to explain the matter in person.

Of course he could not say anything about it with Gabriela herself in the room. He would wait until later, and perhaps then the words would come more easily to him.

They finished their tea, engaging in the social small talk that one generally had among a group of relative strangers, discussing Lady Westhampton’s trip from Derbyshire and the conditions of the road and whether the cold, gray winter skies would produce snow any time soon. Cleybourne inquired after Rachel’s brother and his new wife, and Rachel smilingly revealed that Miranda, Lady Ravenscar, was expecting a great event in the spring.

“So of course she could not travel. Otherwise, I would have tried to get them to come with me to Westhampton for Christmas, too,” Rachel explained. “But, then, I don’t think they would have. It is their first Christmas together at Darkwater.”

“Darkwater!” Gabriela exclaimed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. It is just—that is such a gloomy name. Is it foreboding as well?”

“You mean like Castle Cleybourne?” Rachel teased. “No, it isn’t at all gloomy. The name comes from a tarn nearby, where the water looks black as night. But the house itself is a light, warm stone, and quite welcoming and beautiful. I grew up there, and I love it dearly. However,” she added with a smile, “it does have a curse upon it.”

“Really?” Gabriela looked entranced.

“Oh, yes. Really.”

“What sort of curse?” Jessica asked, almost as intrigued as her pupil.

“Oh, a family sort of thing. It happened during the Dissolution of the Abbeys under King Henry VIII. A nearby abbey was torn down and the lands given to our ancestor, the Earl of Ravenscar, to repay him for his loyalty to the king. It was said that the abbot had to be dragged out of the place, and he put a curse on it, saying that no one of our family, no one who lived ‘within the walls of these stones’ would ever know happiness.”

“Since the sixteenth century?” Jessica could not hide the note of skepticism in her voice.

Lady Westhampton chuckled. “It does seem a rather long time for a family to be unhappy, doesn’t it? Anyway, it would seem that Dev has broken the curse. He and Miranda are very happy. I daresay no curse would stand a chance against the new Lady Ravenscar.”

Richard smiled faintly. “Dev tells me that she is something of a dynamo. I gather she keeps him on the straight and narrow.”

“She is breathtakingly energetic, and quite efficient and practical, as well. But she understands Dev and loves him dearly. He has taken up his art again.”

“I know. He sent me a portrait of Miranda. Apparently one of many he has painted. It was masterfully done, as his work always was. But more mature now.”

“Yes. There is a new depth of emotion in him. Thanks to Miranda.”

“Well, she will always be a saint to you,” Richard said with a faintly teasing tone, “since she vanquished the dread Leona.”

“She saved Dev,” Rachel said simply.

“Yes, I rather think she did. And for that we must always be grateful.”

“As for Leona,” Rachel went sternly, “I cannot believe that you would let her in the house. Or Vesey, either.”

“I wish to God they were not here,” Richard replied in a heartfelt tone. “But Miss Maitland will attest that I could not get out of it. Their sheer audacity carries them far. I know that she faked her fall.”

“You mean you don’t think she hurt her ankle?” Jessica asked, her eyes dancing.

Cleybourne shot her a sardonic glance. “I am sure that her ankle is no more hurt than her heart was over Dev, but I cannot prove it. The doctor said it wasn’t broken, but she moaned and got great tears in her eyes—no doubt having unbuttoned the first few buttons of her bodice—and he decided that it must be a sprain.” He grimaced. “Well, one can have a sprained ankle only so long. Hopefully she will get so bored that they will leave soon. I cannot think what they are hoping to accomplish. I already told Vesey I’d never let him be Gabriela’s guardian.”

BOOK: The Hidden Heart
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