wouldn’t mind putting us up for the night.”
Richard stared, bereft of speech. Beside her husband, Leona smiled in a warm, intimate way. “Hello, Richard.”
Richard turned to look at Jessica, who was standing still and white on the stairs, looking at the Veseys as if she had seen a ghost. She turned to him, her eyes wide, and for once she had nothing to say.
“Oh, the devil,” Richard said ungraciously. “Well, come in, then. I was just sitting down to supper.”
“Ah, just the thing,” Vesey said with a smile, starting forward. “I’m famished.”
It occurred to Richard then that he was going to be stuck eating his meal with Lord and Lady Vesey, and, surprising even himself, he turned back to the stairs.
“Why don’t you join us, Miss Maitland?” he said smoothly, and his smile told Jessica that he knew how little she would like the prospect of doing that.
Jessica frowned. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”
As she spoke, Lady Vesey said, “The governess? Really, Richard, how droll. You can’t be serious.”
Richard looked at Leona without expression. “I am.”
Leona’s words were enough to propel Jessica forward despite her previous disclaimer. “Thank you, Your Grace, I should love to join you.”
Leona shot her a look of active dislike, and her gaze swept down Jessica’s plain dark dress significantly. “You do not dress for dinner?”
“We are very informal here in the country,” Richard put in.
“Fortunate, isn’t it, Lady Vesey?” Jessica said in a bright voice. “For I am sure you must be rather travel stained.”
“Yes,” Leona said absently, then turned a brilliant smile upon Richard, sweeping forward, hand extended, forcing Richard to offer her his arm to escort her to the dining room. “Richard…it has been ages since I’ve seen you. You’re looking very well.”
Richard gave her a perfunctory smile. “And you, Lady Vesey, but, of course, that goes without saying.”
“Ah, but I like it so much better when you say it.” Leona smiled, giving Richard an arch look.
“I am surprised to see you away from London,” Richard commented as they walked into the dining room, where Baxter, ever efficient, had set the footmen to laying several more place settings. “It is hard to imagine you in the country.”
“Nor you. It is well-known that you rarely leave the city,” Leona replied, sitting down in such a way that it afforded Richard a full view of her swelling breasts. Jessica, watching, thought sourly that it was a wonder the woman’s breasts did not completely fall out of her dress, so low cut was the neckline.
“What brings you this way?” Richard looked over at Leona’s husband, who strolled into the room after them and sat down on Richard’s other side.
Jessica took a quick look around, unsure which was the lesser of the two evils—sitting beside Vesey or his wife. One of the footmen decided it for her by pulling out the chair beside Vesey.
“I am sure the governess has told you, hasn’t she?” Vesey replied casually. “Came up for General Streathern’s funeral. Great-uncle, you know.”
Richard found that the way Vesey referred to Miss Maitland as “the governess” grated on his nerves, the obvious inference being that she was not important enough to know her name. Richard, who knew the names of all his servants and tenants had always despised such snobbery.
“Miss Maitland,” he said pointedly, “did tell me that you were related to my ward.”
“Yes. Cousins. Darling girl,” Vesey drawled. “Where is she, by the way? Why doesn’t she dine with us? Would even the table, don’t you see?”
“She has already eaten,” Jessica said flatly. She did not add that she had eaten, too. The prospect of courses of food in this company was not appealing. She wondered if she could plead illness and escape the table. However, she wanted to hear everything that was said between the Duke and Vesey, so she rejected that thought.
Vesey looked at
Richard stared, bereft of speech. Beside her husband, Leona smiled in a warm, intimate way. “Hello, Richard.”
Richard turned to look at Jessica, who was standing still and white on the stairs, looking at the Veseys as if she had seen a ghost. She turned to him, her eyes wide, and for once she had nothing to say.
“Oh, the devil,” Richard said ungraciously. “Well, come in, then. I was just sitting down to supper.”
“Ah, just the thing,” Vesey said with a smile, starting forward. “I’m famished.”
It occurred to Richard then that he was going to be stuck eating his meal with Lord and Lady Vesey, and, surprising even himself, he turned back to the stairs.
“Why don’t you join us, Miss Maitland?” he said smoothly, and his smile told Jessica that he knew how little she would like the prospect of doing that.
Jessica frowned. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”
As she spoke, Lady Vesey said, “The governess? Really, Richard, how droll. You can’t be serious.”
Richard looked at Leona without expression. “I am.”
Leona’s words were enough to propel Jessica forward despite her previous disclaimer. “Thank you, Your Grace, I should love to join you.”
Leona shot her a look of active dislike, and her gaze swept down Jessica’s plain dark dress significantly. “You do not dress for dinner?”
“We are very informal here in the country,” Richard put in.
“Fortunate, isn’t it, Lady Vesey?” Jessica said in a bright voice. “For I am sure you must be rather travel stained.”
“Yes,” Leona said absently, then turned a brilliant smile upon Richard, sweeping forward, hand extended, forcing Richard to offer her his arm to escort her to the dining room. “Richard…it has been ages since I’ve seen you. You’re looking very well.”
Richard gave her a perfunctory smile. “And you, Lady Vesey, but, of course, that goes without saying.”
“Ah, but I like it so much better when you say it.” Leona smiled, giving Richard an arch look.
“I am surprised to see you away from London,” Richard commented as they walked into the dining room, where Baxter, ever efficient, had set the footmen to laying several more place settings. “It is hard to imagine you in the country.”
“Nor you. It is well-known that you rarely leave the city,” Leona replied, sitting down in such a way that it afforded Richard a full view of her swelling breasts. Jessica, watching, thought sourly that it was a wonder the woman’s breasts did not completely fall out of her dress, so low cut was the neckline.
“What brings you this way?” Richard looked over at Leona’s husband, who strolled into the room after them and sat down on Richard’s other side.
Jessica took a quick look around, unsure which was the lesser of the two evils—sitting beside Vesey or his wife. One of the footmen decided it for her by pulling out the chair beside Vesey.
“I am sure the governess has told you, hasn’t she?” Vesey replied casually. “Came up for General Streathern’s funeral. Great-uncle, you know.”
Richard found that the way Vesey referred to Miss Maitland as “the governess” grated on his nerves, the obvious inference being that she was not important enough to know her name. Richard, who knew the names of all his servants and tenants had always despised such snobbery.
“Miss Maitland,” he said pointedly, “did tell me that you were related to my ward.”
“Yes. Cousins. Darling girl,” Vesey drawled. “Where is she, by the way? Why doesn’t she dine with us? Would even the table, don’t you see?”
“She has already eaten,” Jessica said flatly. She did not add that she had eaten, too. The prospect of courses of food in this company was not appealing. She wondered if she could plead illness and escape the table. However, she wanted to hear everything that was said between the Duke and Vesey, so she rejected that thought.
Vesey looked at
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