Trials of Artemis (18 page)

"I've..
had an effect?" Gideon looked into his own glass and realized he was
already on his second serving and well on his way to claiming a third.

"You
confuse her. Fluster her."

"And
is that... good?"

"It
remains to be seen, my lord."

Gideon
decided that he would stop at two glasses and set to swirling the liquid at the
bottom of his glass as he contemplated the boy's words. It took a great deal of
guts to tell a peer that you weren't sure you thought much of how he was
treating your friend. Provided it was just friendship and not something more
fueling the boy's courage.

"How
long have you known Jacqueline?"

"All
my life."

"And
how would you describe the nature of your relationship?"

At
that the boy looked up and smiled at him. "She's one of my sisters."

"One
of?"

"All
the Haberdashers are my sisters."

"Haberdashers?"

The
boy looked confused. "The Haberdashers. Sabre, Jack, and George."

"Not
Samantha?"

That
made a laugh bubble up out of him. "Of course not."

"What's
funny about that?"

"Have
you ever seen Samantha try to shoot a gun?"

"Of
course not."

"If
you do I suggest you take cover behind something."

"The
Haberdashers is a shooting club?"

The
boy tilted his head to one side as though considering Gideon's limited
knowledge of the Haberdashers. "I suggest you ask Jack about it."

Gideon
began to feel out of sorts over this Haberdashers business. "Why do they
all use boy's names?"

Justin
shrugged. "Ask Jack."

"Do
you never call her Jacqueline?"

"No
one does. Except you. Sam calls her Jackie."

After
a moment Gideon said, "Well, that's all very interesting but I think it's
time to rejoin my lovely wife."

Justin
nodded and set his barely touched glass of port aside. Well, at least they had
a distaste of port in common.

Jack
lingered in the drawing room reading a book of Greek plays that Lara had been
kind enough to fetch for her. She had been so proud of how Justin comported
himself at table that she knew just how a mama bird felt the first time her
baby bird flew. Later she would write letters to Sabre and George to tell them
all about it, knowing they would be jealous that they hadn't been here to
witness it. But meanwhile it was her lot to wait and see if the men rejoined
her for after-dinner entertainments. It wasn't terribly long before they did,
seeming perhaps a bit more out of sorts than they had been before she left
them. Sadly they didn't have a fourth for whist and after a short discussion of
potential entertainments the group broke up to make an early evening of it. She
insisted that Justin take the book of plays up to his room with him since she
knew he wouldn't trouble anyone with a request. And besides, it couldn't hurt
for him to practice his Greek.

Once
they were upstairs she and Gideon went to their separate dressing rooms to
ready themselves for bed. They hadn't discussed what the sleeping arrangements
would be and Jack was a bit nervous of what she would do if he seemed to avoid
her, but he reappeared while she was brushing out her hair and sat on the bed
watching her.

"What
is this young man's last name, anyway?" he asked. "I assume it isn't
Bittlesworth."

Jack
laughed. "Oh my goodness, I didn't introduce you."

Gideon
shrugged. "By the time it seemed I wasn’t going to thrash him I'm sure the
moment had passed."

"Well,
my apologies that I let your bad manners inspire my own. His name is Justin
Miller."

"And
his mother?"

Jack
paused. "Sibyl Miller. She was a maid at the Bittlesworth's estate."

"Where
is she now?"

"She
died of a fever within a week of when Justin was born."

"And
he was raised by the viscount?"

Jack
set her brush down and went over to stand in front of Gideon. "Not
exactly."

He
pulled her forward so that she stood between his knees with his arms hooked
over her hips. "Do I sense a story to be told?"

She
smiled and threaded her fingers through his hair. "I'm sure you would
rather do something else than be told a story."

He
was diligently inspecting the bows, ties and ruffles on her diaphanous
nightgown and robe. "On the contrary, I love stories."

Jack
thought that if marriage consisted only of moments like these, sweet intimate
moments, then it was something that everyone should aspire to. "Sometimes,
if both his Lord and Ladyship are out, you can still get the servants to tell
the story of the day poor Justin's mother died. Sibyl was shunned by her
family, you see, for becoming pregnant. She had also been turned off from
employment at the estate. But our local midwife, Old Madge, took sympathy when
it was time for the birth and let Sibyl stay at her home. When Sibyl sickened,
Old Madge went to the family, and Sibyl's brother Bert finally consented to see
her. They say she admitted to Bert who the father of the boy was and, on the
day she died, Bert confronted the viscount." She paused which drew his
attention from where he was untying one of the bows securing her robe.
"Bert worked in the Viscount's stables, you see. A veritable mountain of a
man, the servants always say, although I assume over the years tales of his size
have become exaggerated. I was three when it happened and don't remember him.
But they say the death of his baby sister had pushed him too far, and on that
day he confronted the viscount who was fresh back from his morning ride. Pulled
him off the horse and threw him up against the stable door. Told the viscount
to take on the responsibility for his son or Bert himself would send the man to
final judgment, which with Sibyl's death and only God knew what other sins on
his soul would undoubtedly send him straight to the Devil."

"That
should have earned him a thrashing at least, if not outright execution."

"After
he extracted that promise, which according to Courtland required him to finally
allow the viscount to breathe, and more the pity that, he left and was never
heard from again."

"Courtland
sounds a bit bloodthirsty."

"Most
butlers are."

Gideon
choked. "Are you saying I need fear Dibbs?"

She
smiled. "No more than you need fear me."

He
pulled her down onto the bed. "That, my dear, was a politician's answer.
And it leaves me quaking, I assure you."

She
ran her hands down his back. "Yes, I can tell."

"You've
quite taken to this like a duck to water, but I think it would be best if we
didn't have another joining tonight."

Jack
felt a bit petulant, but admitted as she plucked at her husband's silk sleeve. "I
am a bit sore."

"Instead
perhaps we can try some of the more exotic pleasures from the book."

Jack
smiled. "Oh yes. That sounds delightful."

Although
exhausted from bed play, Gideon slept fitfully and was awake before dawn again.
He slipped away from the soft, warm body of his wife, making sure that she was
covered and snug. True to her stories, she hardly seemed disturbed by his
efforts to disentangle himself and pull up her covers. It was tempting to carry
her somewhere unusual to wake up, but as she was naked it limited the number of
places he would want to put her. His thoughts brought him up short. When was
the last time that he had teased someone or been playful? He honestly couldn't
remember. There were some stories from school, mostly he and Quince when they
were in shorts. Before Gideon's father had died. Not pleased with the direction
his mind had wandered, Gideon went to the escritoire in his bedroom to write
Jack a short note and leave it on her pillow.

Once
downstairs he said to the footman on duty, "Please ask our guest Mr.
Miller if he would like to join me on my ride. I shall be taking coffee in the
morning room when he comes down."

"Yes,
my lord."

A
mere ten minutes later the young Mr. Miller made his appearance, once again
dressed in what Gideon knew to be his own clothes from his youth. He indicated
that the boy should take the seat next to him at the small round table. As a
footman poured coffee and offered milk and sugar, which the boy politely
refused, Gideon assessed him.

"It's
clear that you're younger than my wife, but how old are you?"

"Fifteen,
sir. I mean, my lord."

Gideon
raised a brow, knowing that the clothes the boy wore had been from his own
twentieth year and he had not been small, even then. The lad would most likely
turn out to be a mountain of a man himself.

"You
can ride, I assume?"

"Oh
yes sir, I mean my lord. Charlie taught me."

Charlie
Bittlesworth, known to be as horse mad as any Englishman had a right to be, had
taken the time to teach the boy to ride, which meant the young man could be a
fine rider indeed. Neither Robert nor Charlie had ever mentioned having a
bastard half-brother. Not that it was something that would come up in polite
conversation, but if Justin were truly as doted upon as his and Jack's comments
seemed to suggest it was odd that the brothers hadn't let something slip after
all these years. Then again they hadn't mentioned that they let their little
sister and her friends race curricles at home either. Perhaps there was just a
great deal he didn't know about the Bittlesworths.

Gideon
signaled the footman over. "Have them saddle Brier as well as Falcon. She
could do with some exercise."

Justin
seemed to deflate a bit at the thought that he was being assigned a mare.

"Oh,
don't let her sex fool you. I live in fear that my wife will take a fancy to
her. She is one of the most headstrong and spirited animals I've known."

The
boy smiled, amused. "Jack or the mare?"

Gideon
nearly choked on his sip of coffee. "I see your point, but I was referring
to Brier."

After
finishing his second cup and allowing Justin time to sip at his own brew,
Gideon rose and led the way out to the stables. Although polite and deferential,
Justin didn't quite have the puppy dog quality of Philip, which was a bit of a
relief. As much as he liked Philip and thought the young man was maturing into
an effective steward, it was tiresome to always have him underfoot while at
Kellington. As Gideon took up the reins for his own dark bay, Falcon, he
observed Justin approaching the massive and stomping dapple-gray mare. The boy
had not only been taught well but also appeared to have some of Charlie's
affinity for animals, greeting and calming the horse before attempting to mount
her. If they continued to get along well perhaps he would gift the mare to the
young man, both removing it from his stable before his wife could decide to
ride her and gaining his wife's approval for indulging her young friend. The
desire to both protect and delight his young wife didn't bear close scrutiny so
he urged Falcon into a gallop along the open field with the young Mr. Miller in
close pursuit.

When
Jack awoke she found her husband's note almost immediately, having reached out
a hand for him on the bed.

"Good
morning wife - I think I shall take your young friend riding since you and I
will be going to the Vicarage later and I don't want you to become overtired of
my company. Will ask Dibbs to place the newspaper at breakfast table. Hopefully
this change to protocol will not inspire him to choke off my air as you say
butlers are wont to do.

Yours,
Gideon"

She
lay on the bed laughing quite helplessly and thinking that oh yes, there was
definitely much to be said for the state of marriage. Before she left the bedroom
she tucked the note into the same book that held a pressed yellow rose petal.

Not
wanting to tear apart his paper before he had a chance to read it, Jack was
pushing a bite of egg around her plate and considering whether she should
redecorate her suite when she heard them return. There was laughter in the
hallway, which was a relief. Honestly she was more than a little afraid that
Gideon had taken Justin on a ride simply to terrorize the boy. Not that he was
a boy any longer, she corrected herself. He was a young man. It had amazed her
to see how much he had grown in the two years she had been gone. Sabre, who had
seen him more recently, had said as much in one of her letters, but it was
still difficult to believe. He had always been the little boy following them
around. Beloved and indulged. No, the viscount had not raised his son. Other
than allowing the boy to live on the property, he had had as little to do with
him as possible. The Bittlesworth boys and the Haberdashers had raised him,
with no little help from the servants that adored him and reveled in the memory
of how his Uncle Bert had secured his future.