“I would have liked a sister, but I got a brother instead,” Gillian told her.
“I didn’t know that.” Jessica’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “What is he like? Where does he live?”
“I don’t know, unfortunately. I lost touch with him when I married.”
Her brother Lincoln and late husband Wallace Thorpe hadn’t gotten along well, and she had always regretted that her letters had gone unanswered by her brother.
“But that’s terrible,” Jessica exclaimed. “We must find him.”
“One day perhaps.” Gillian sighed and then focused on the present—getting Jessica out of this room and in a happy mood. “But first, we must rejoin your family below.”
The guest list for this rare Christmas weeklong party at Stapleton Manor had not hinted at an older generation when Gillian had been shown the names of those invited. She’d been hoping, as had Jessica, for a much younger crowd to engage with, along with the duke’s family. Anyone below the age of their nearest neighbor, Mr. Gideon Whitfield, would have done.
But most of the duke’s children, expecting their father’s disinterest in the festive season, had made other plans and sent their regrets.
They had to make do with Mrs. Warner’s friends instead. They would not have been Gillian’s choice if she’d had any say in the matter.
It was Gillian’s job to ensure Jessica was ready to make her come out, and the girl had proved as much of a challenge as her father had initially suggested when he’d offered her the position of companion nine months ago. Jessica took instruction well but seemed incapable of staying at arm’s length from servants, which had become Mrs. Warner’s chief complaint.
And it was true that Jessica was interested in the servants around her perhaps more than appropriate for a duke’s daughter. She was as open and friendly as Lady Fanny Rivers, the duke’s other daughter. There had been more than one evening when Jessica had sought her out late at night and ended up falling asleep in Gillian’s own bed. The girl had never known her mother, and she often missed her older sisters dreadfully.
Yet making friends with the hired help was not what Jessica needed most. What she did need was an ally, a friend closer to her own age to share experiences with when in London. Gillian had been encouraging a friendship with one young woman in particular for that very purpose. “Miss Hawthorne is quite lively.”
Miss Hawthorne was a year older than Jessica, had an excellent mind and, more importantly, was open to discussing the merits of one gentleman over another. That girl was aware of the appeal of men in a way Jessica had yet to discover for herself. Gillian was waiting for the right time to suggest the duke sponsor the girl for a London season too as her parents could not afford the expense.
“She wants my papa’s attention,” Jessica grumbled.
Gillian quickly dismissed the maid, afraid there was another tantrum in the wind. The Duke of Stapleton was a fine gentleman, both in looks and character. The duke had presence quite beyond what was normally found in men. He drew the eye, he made Gillian squirm with an impossible longing she did her best to fight. It was possible Miss Hawthorne had designs on becoming the next Duchess of Stapleton—possible, but very unlikely that such a wish might come to pass. From what Gillian could tell, her employer was actively trying to avoid the girl, and that was for the best. Miss Hawthorne wasn’t right for him.
Yet one day, some lucky woman would catch Stapleton’s eye and come between father and daughter forever. There would be a husband for Jessica and a second wife for the duke no doubt. The duke would need someone for company once Jessica began her new life. It was not meant to be part of her duties, but Gillian felt it was her unspoken duty to prepare the girl for such an eventuality. “If he finds a woman he likes, what is wrong with that?”
“He cannot marry someone my age,” Jessica blurted out. “I absolutely forbid it.”
Gillian chuckled softly. Lord Stapleton and his youngest daughter were both very particular. There had been a string of nurses and governesses before Gillian, and all had been dismissed after a few months of service for one reason or another, or so she’d been warned. Gillian had lasted nine months, something of a record here at Stapleton.
Gillian smoothed Jessica’s hair behind her ear. While the bond that had formed between father and daughter gave Jessica all the love and security she could ever need, it had also created problems that Gillian was trying very hard to overcome in the gentlest way possible.
The girl was stubborn, prone to tantrums when thwarted. She had been indulged by all who knew her. Jessica could not accept anyone ever coming between herself and her beloved papa.
Although Gillian was patient and had tried to explain she might have to share his affections eventually, Jessica was so very young and had been terribly sheltered. She appeared rather naïve when it came to romantic relationships, too, and Gillian had come to the conclusion that Lord Stapleton had kept news of his amours far away from his daughter’s ears.
But in their current situation, poised on the eve of Jessica’s first season, tongues were wagging furiously about Stapleton’s personal life. Jessica had heard how her papa was universally admired for his wealth and title. The talk annoyed Jessica. It scared the girl, too.
Gillian captured the girl’s hand and squeezed. “You cannot stop your father from having his head turned and marrying if that is his heart’s desire.”
“I can and I will,” Jessica promised, stubborn to the end.
Gillian adjusted the collar of Jessica’s spencer, ensuring she was covered as much as possible. The halls and public rooms were often cold here at Stapleton, and the last thing His grace would want is his daughter presenting herself to the guests with a red, dripping nose. “How will you do that when you have a new husband yourself, claiming all of your time after your first season?”
For a moment, the girl appeared confused. “I… Well. I will. You will have to help me convince Papa to call the coming out off.”
“I cannot do that. He hired me to make sure you’d be ready.” Besides, Gillian had no intention of doing so. She knew how much the girl would yearn for a family of her own one day. “Come along. Your father’s guests are waiting to see you.”
“Oh, very well. I’d rather the way it used to be. Just the three of us, and Whitfield’s visits now and then.” The girl worried at her lip. “I suppose I must smile even when Lord James butts into our conversations like he always seems to do.”
Lord James, second son of the Marquess of Newfield, was younger than Whitfield, and had from the outset gravitated toward Jessica. He was very friendly. Perhaps too marked in his interest for Gillian’s tastes, on so short an acquaintance, but all men approached women in different ways.
As far as Gillian could tell, Jessica hadn’t the slightest clue she was being pursued. That worried her. She would have to be blunt with the girl again. “Lord James admires you.”