He crossed the room, made a show of jiggling the handle in a bid to conceal the turning of the key. Since he’d used this trick before on his daughters and had never been caught out, he was certain she’d be deceived yet again.
The door sprung open when he finally turned the handle properly.
“You really need to have a servant attend to that door,” Rebecca complained as she burst into his study uninvited.
“When this house party nonsense is done, I will,” he promised.
Rebecca paused when she saw Gillian seated before the desk, a sour expression forming. Rebecca glanced between them, suspicion turning her eyes into hard slits. “I hadn’t realized I was interrupting.”
Gillian stood and curtsied to his daughter but said nothing.
Nicolas was well aware that Rebecca’s distrust of pretty women stemmed from having discovered her own husband in bed with their housekeeper once before his death, so he stepped between them. He gestured Gillian back down into her chair.
“You are interrupting.” Nicolas ignored Rebecca’s shocked expression and returned to his side of the desk. “How can I help you?”
“I’d rather speak to you alone,” she said.
“Can it not wait until morning?” he asked.
“No, Father.”
He didn’t want to send Gillian away, but suspected Rebecca wouldn’t speak of whatever nonsense was on her mind until she was gone. The sooner they had this conversation, the sooner it would be over.
He might have to forgo the comfort of his lover for one night most likely too, but it couldn’t be helped. He grabbed a book at random from his bookcase. “Very well. Mrs. Thorpe, would you please peruse this volume and if you deem it suitable, please share it with my daughter when you can.”
She stood quickly and stretched for the book. “Of course, your grace. Was there anything else?”
He dropped it lightly in her hand, wishing he could say more to ease any sting his dismissal might inflict. “Return it to this room when you’re done,” he said, then gestured her to the door gently, hating that he must keep up the act of master and servant a little longer.
As she moved away, Nicolas noted one of the buttons of her gown had come undone at the back. Most likely he’d done it himself when he’d been teasing her. Fearing his daughter’s sharp eyes, he followed Gillian to the door, putting his body between his lover and his child.
“Goodnight, your grace. Mrs. Warner.” Gillian departed and he breathed a sigh of quiet relief. That had been much too close for comfort.
He hadn’t even turned around before Rebecca began. “Now, we need to discuss my sister. Jessica cannot continue rusticating in the countryside.”
Nicolas sat behind his desk again and leaned back to observe his daughter. Since her husband’s passing, this daughter had become the most frustrating and opinionated creature on the earth. “I suppose you have some plan for what I should do about that?”
“Yes. She needs to mingle with people of her own class. She needs to be in London as soon as possible. I propose taking her with me when I leave.”
Nicolas skewered her with a sharp stare. “I will decide when and where Jessica goes, madam.”
“She must be with other women.” Rebecca leaned forward. “She has no idea how to command a room. I’ve warned you before that a companion cannot teach her everything she must know about how to conduct herself in society.”
That would also be impossible to learn if Jessica was in Rebecca’s shadow, too, but in his and Gillian’s line of sight she might be happier doing so.
Going to London together was actually a very good idea. He did now have business to attend to with his solicitor if he was to be a husband again. Nicolas also had friends there he was keen for Gillian to become acquainted with. He could show Gillian about Town, spoil his daughter at the same time, and participate in Jessica’s preparations for the coming season. There would be no battle over spending or choices that way. “I concede that some time in London before the season begins might be beneficial.”
His daughter sighed heavily. “After the party?”
“Yes, after the party, of course,” he agreed. He would need a little time to woo his future wife though. They’d never spoken about marriage, or a future, only ever discussing the next time they could be alone together.
After the party, after he’d proposed to Gillian, he’d discuss the idea of a longer London excursion for all of them, and see how she felt about marrying by special license there. A month-long wait for the banns to be read would feel interminable, now he’d made up his mind to marry.
“And while Jessica is busy, you must give serious thought to the future of the family,” Rebecca demanded.
He frowned at her remark. He already had a large enough supply of male heirs, three sons, four grandsons from two of them, to guarantee the succession. “Such as?”
“Finding a wife to look after the little things a little better around here,” Rebecca said, gazing at him with pity in her eyes. “Stapleton needs a mistress again. I know you loved mother, but even she would say it is long past time for you to select her replacement.”