A Gentleman's Vow (Saints and Sinners 2)

She sighed somewhat happily and collected the jars she’d come for. “Don’t be late for dinner. Lord James is a tedious man, and I’ve already discussed the growing of mushrooms twice with him already.”

He smiled despite his discomfort, and Jessica slipped away smiling, too. His amusement died the moment she was gone.

He shut the door, leaned against it and thumped his head against the wood once. What the devil was wrong with him! He should not feel this way about Jessica. It was an aberration, brought on by his state of undress. He turned about and faced the dark room. Bollocks. I’m only human.

And she is very pretty, persistent, and hardly ever worried about propriety around you.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in a bid to get himself under control. He thought of the school and the good he hoped to do for Mrs. Beck. He and Jessica were friends and neighbors. He would act as if today had not happened.

He looked down and frowned.

He would as soon as he had that under control.

Was it fair that Jessica had to always wait forever when she wanted to talk to Gideon? No, it was not. Jessica drummed her fingers on the old tabletop, ignoring her third cup of tea. She felt the restrictions of her status as an unmarried woman most keenly today.

“These are lovely,” Mrs. Mills gushed, inhaling the subtle fragrances of the spices Jessica had purchased in London.

“Indeed. Very subtle,” the Stapleton housekeeper agreed.

Mrs. Harrow glanced toward Jessica. “Something on your mind, my lady?”

“No. Not really,” she promised.

But the warmth of the kitchen was making her mind wander. Too much more and she’d fall asleep right in this chair. She couldn’t sleep here. This wasn’t her home.

But it could be, her wayward imagination suggested.

She sat up a little straighter, watching as the servants divided up the spoils of her London shopping trip between them.

As they worked and debated, she kept one ear cocked for the sounds of Gideon moving about. Unfortunately, his bedchamber was located one floor up and on the other side of the house from where she currently sat. But she suspected she would hear Gideon on the stairs when he came back down after dressing.

She laid her hand against her throat. She had not minded seeing him the way she’d discovered him today, and ever since, well, the urge to surprise him again appealed tremendously.

Now she knew something very personal about him, even if it must remain a secret. That made her feel decidedly smug. Opportunities for catching Gideon unawares, however, had never come about very often. She toyed with two little bowls of spice before her. “Would you combine these two?”

Mrs. Mills shook her head, but Mrs. Brown nodded. “In shaving soap, perhaps, with honey to smooth the scent. His grace’s former valet concocted something very similar once I think. But that was years ago now. He did not leave behind his recipe.”

“That is a shame.” She could imagine this scent on Giddy’s skin. She fought a blush and drew those spices toward herself. “I’ll keep these for now.”

Mrs. Harrow beamed. “They will last until you’ve a husband to use them for. Perhaps Mrs. Brown could have another look for that recipe in the meantime.”

A husband? Was there nowhere Jessica could go that did not include a discussion of her future marriage? Now she was back in the countryside, she’d rather not think of the future—the children she was supposed to want, the husband she was meant to please. The fortune hunter dogging her steps.

She much preferred talking with her friends. Teasing Giddy, too.

She glanced over her shoulder. He seemed to be taking a very long time to change and return downstairs. Had she missed hearing him? Had he slipped away to call on Mrs. Beck without saying goodbye? She glanced at his staff, curious about the way he really conducted his affairs when she was not around. “I understand Mr. Whitfield hosted a dinner recently.”

“Aye, he did. A successful affair it turned out to be.”

Mrs. Mills clucked her tongue. “Well, it would have been if not for—”

“Shh,” Mrs. Harrow hissed, glancing at Jessica and Mrs. Brown guiltily.

Jessica looked between the women. “What are you not telling me?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Mrs. Harrow promised.

“Not nothing. I’ve got my suspicions.” Mrs. Mills crossed her arms over her ample breasts.