The Duke and I (Saints and Sinners 1)

The man appeared sincere, but those kisses meant something else entirely. “I see.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “She is crying.”

Gillian found a handkerchief she kept in the pocket of her coat and dabbed at the girl’s damp cheeks. “It will be all right,” she whispered.

“No, it won’t,” Jessica wailed. “It’s going to be simply horrible.”

“May I ask what is wrong?” Whitfield asked.

“I lost my mother…now I am to lose my companion,” Jessica wailed. “I am to move to London and live with Mrs. Warner. I hate London. I hate Papa for sending me away!”

“You don’t hate him,” Gillian disagreed.

Mr. Whitfield appeared confused. “I thought you were looking forward to being out.”

“I shouldn’t have to leave my home for that to happen.”

“No, of course not.” The man glanced Gillian’s way, frowning. “Why send her away?”

“I’ve no idea.” Gillian sighed. She could not shake the embarrassment that she had failed the girl and not detected Stapleton’s displeasure with her teaching methods. Everyone had said the girl had mellowed since Gillian’s arrival, but apparently not enough to make her presentable to society without her sister’s intervention and influence. “It has apparently been decided that Jessica should spend some time with Mrs. Warner’s circle of friends before the season begins.”

“I am to be polished and made into a proper lady.” Jessica scowled again. “Mrs. Warner also says Papa is about to marry, too, which I cannot believe is true.”

He stared at them both. “Stapleton would tell you first if he had decided to remarry,” Whitfield promised.

Jessica sniffed. “I hope so.”

“I cannot imagine what would make him send you off to live with Mrs. Warner. He would not change a thing about you, Jessica. You are entirely without equal.”

Despite her upset, Jessica began to chuckle. “That is by far your most outrageous bit of flattery to date, Whitfield. I will miss our silliness and long walks.”

“So will I.” He pressed his lips together tightly, and then bowed. “Since your companion is on hand to offer you support, I should take my leave. Perhaps we might talk again before you go.”

“I’d like that,” Jessica promised. “Who knows when I might have leave to be myself again, as I am when I am with you. We have yet to discuss the growing of mushrooms.”

He smiled. “As always, the discussion of fungus at dinner enlivens my evenings immensely. Mrs. Thorpe, it will be a tragedy for the district if you leave Stapleton. You have made quite an impression on everyone here.”

“I might not go far in the end,” she mused. “Mrs. Hawthorne has just offered me a similar position to the one I have now.”

“That was very swiftly done,” Whitfield suggested, frowning. “I trust it is what you want.”

What she wanted was to stay until Jessica found a man worthy of her affection. She forced a smile. “Serendipity. A fortunate accident of timing, I’m sure.”

Whitfield did not appear convinced. But he nodded and took his leave.

Gillian waited a moment, and then held Jessica firmly by her shoulders. “What happened between you and Whitfield?”

The girl shrugged. “I mistook him for father, but by the time I noticed, I’d already been crying on his coat several minutes. He bore it well.”

Gillian was relieved. For a moment there, she had wondered if Whitfield had followed Jessica for an assignation. Jessica, of course, would never suspect his motives might have been less than pure, but Gillian saw his interest very plainly.

“Very well.” She tipped Jessica’s chin up. “May I offer you a piece of advice?”

“Of course.” Jessica caught her hand tightly. “I’d much rather hear yours than my sister’s any day.”

“Do not let anyone know Whitfield held you in his arms today, especially not Mrs. Warner.”

“Well, I do not confide in her ordinarily, but can I tell my father how kind he was?”