Page 68 of Duke of Emeralds
At the gate of her brother’s townhouse, she paused only long enough to set Bella’s shawl aright, brushing the girl’s stray hair behind one ear with the careful tenderness she would have denied if confronted. “You will be good for Mrs. Harding?” she asked. Bella nodded, grave as a magistrate, and slipped inside, guided by the housekeeper’s gentle grip.
Within, the familiar hush of the entryway settled over Hester with an odd finality. She shed her gloves, patted her hair, and directed herself to the library where she knew Leonard would be found at this hour. As she entered, he looked up from his chair with a smile bright enough to make her wince.
“There you are!” he said, rising to cross the room and enveloping her in a hug that was warm, perfumed, and a touch too tight. “I thought your letter said you’d not arrive until Tuesday. What brings you so soon?”
She laughed, letting herself be tugged to the settee beside him. “Is it so terrible that I wished to see my brother at the earliest hour possible?”
“Only if you meant to catch me in my dressing dress,” he replied, but the pleasure in his voice was genuine. He poured her a cup of tea, the dark liquid sweetened and cooled just as she liked it, and passed it over with an elegant sweep. “You’re looking very well, Hester. In fact, dare I say it, you look like someone who’s learned to enjoy country life.”
Hester forced a smile. “I confess the air is better. My lungs are half the size they were in London but twice as functional.”
He laughed and dropped a sugar cube into his own cup. “And the house—how is it? No ghosts?”
She sipped and said, “Only the friendly kind.”
He leaned in, concern masked in nonchalance. “And Lushton? He treats you?—?”
“Well,” Hester finished for him. “Better than I deserve most days.”
“I doubt that very much.” Leonard regarded her over the rim of his cup. “I’ve heard the talk, you know.”
She braced herself. “What talk?”
“That you’ve rescued an orphan. The village boys and their mothers are all aflutter. Apparently, you’ve become quite the topic in the charitable societies.”
She felt a blush rise. “It was only natural to bring her with us.”
“Ah.” Leonard’s smile dimmed, replaced by a brief, unspoken sadness. “And you? How are you adjusting?”
She shrugged. “I suppose I have always been more adaptable than Mother. Which brings me to the question—how is she?”
At this, Leonard’s demeanor brightened. “Remarkable, in fact. I just left her room. She’s been out of doors every day this week, reading novels and fussing at the gardeners.”
“She hasn’t—?” Hester could not finish the sentence.
“No events concerning her. Not since your wedding. I think it calms her, knowing you are… well, knowing you are happy.”
Hester’s cup clattered, nearly slipping from her grasp. She steadied it then stared at her lap. “That’s good,” she said, too quietly.
Leonard, ever the perceptive one, did not press. He changed the subject to lighter things—the opera, the latest political squabbling, the new French tailor who had opened shop on Bond Street. But the words crowded around her ears and left her thoughts drifting back to the country, to the cold, blue-lit workroom, to the steady weight of Thomas’ hand when it rested on her back.
When she left her brother’s house, dusk was already creeping along the rooftops. She walked home with Bella beside her, the child silent but content, gaze fixed on the patchwork of carriages, carts, and beggars that animated the pavements. They entered the townhouse, Bella off to her own small room without a word and Hester up the stairs to her chamber.
There, she found Anna, Fiona, and Nancy waiting in her sitting room, each with a glass in hand and expressions that ran the gamut from innocent to outright conspiratorial.
“Hester!” cried Anna, springing up to embrace her. “We’ve missed you dreadfully. Fiona insisted we call at once, and as you know, Nancy is never behindhand in such matters.”
Nancy waved her glass with dramatic flair. “In truth, I arrived before either of them. I heard from a reliable source that the Duchess of Lushton was back in Town before you even set foot on your own threshold.”
“Is it possible?” Hester raised her brows. “What network of spies do you command, Nancy?”
“My own,” Nancy said with an arch smile. “But Fiona’s footman was the one who first saw your carriage roll up, and he sent word to her, and she wrote to Anna, and so on.”
Fiona, blushing, said, “It was not quite so—oh, never mind. We are here, and that’s what matters.”
Anna handed Hester a glass, which she accepted, then guided her to the settee with the practiced finesse of a general corralling her troops. “Now, you must tell us everything,” Anna said. “Is it true? Have you adopted a wild country child and made her your own?”
Hester sipped, grateful for the familiar rhythm of her friends’ voices. “Her name is Arabella, and she’s cleverer than any three children I’ve met. She will be a ward of the estate, at least until a more suitable arrangement is found.”
