“Just like my father did to me.”
Mrs. Harrow patted his arm. “That’s all in the past, sir.”
“If only I could forget as easily,” he said quietly.
Mrs. Mills returned to her chair nearest the hearth, her expression understanding. “If you don’t mind me saying, perhaps a visit to Stapleton Manor will chase the ghosts away. His grace usually cheers you up.”
He nodded. “Yes, perhaps a visit with friends is just what I need.”
Chapter 5
Jessica dragged in a deep breath. It did not help. The idea that Giddy had kissed that woman, a stranger, offended her sensibilities so much, she clenched her hands into fists. Had he not, just yesterday afternoon, declared he was too old for marriage?
Obviously he wasn’t too old to kiss strangers. Jessica had never known him to pay any attention to other ladies, but then Mrs. Garland’s teasing comments yesterday about his popularity flooded her mind, as did some of Natalia’s previous remarks. Gideon Whitfield was good-looking, wealthy in a limited fashion, which no doubt made him a prize—more so than she’d ever considered. Did he behave differently when she was not around?
Did he take lovers or have a mistress somewhere hidden away?
She covered her face as mortification struck her. She’d given Gideon a present. If he was involved with another woman, she should not have done it. Jessica would not like another woman to give her particular gentleman, if she ever had one, so personal a gift.
And why was it that the moment she’d gone away, he’d formed an attachment to another woman? He was hiding his real nature from her. Pretending to be proper when he must be anything but. There was no reason she couldn’t know about his—she swallowed a lump in her throat—affections for a woman, unless he still considered her a child who must be shielded from the truth.
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the far wall. Jessica had rarely had cause to be displeased with her neighbor, but she was well and genuinely offended. She had told him her deepest, darkest secrets for years, and he never had. She had thought Gideon was a true friend. Friends confided in each other. Well, apparently they were not the friends she’d once imagined.
She turned toward her plants, intent on wiping away dust from their leaves to make them glossy again.
The first pot she pulled toward her sent a splash of water tumbling down the front of her gown. “Oh, no!” she cried, attempting to dab at the spots with her handkerchief. Unfortunately, the little lacy scrap made little difference.
But then she noticed the soil of each plant in front of her was drenched, too. She tilted each pot to drain the excess water then quickly moved each to an empty dry bench. “How could this have happened?”
“Is something the matter?”
She almost jumped out of her skin in shock and spun around. “Mr. Whitfield! Oh, you scared me.”
Giddy was the last person she expected to see today, and her face grew hot. She glanced at his mouth, at the lips that had kissed someone else that morning, then turned away. “What are you doing here?”
“I hope you don’t mind my interruption,” he murmured. “I noticed your water tank had run dry when I came to collect my coat earlier. I’ve returned to top it up and will be gone in a moment.”
Given he was carrying a full bucket of water on the end of each arm, she had to believe his reason for coming was sincere. He had not come to see her, and that thought entirely depressed her spirits. “It was filled only yesterday.”
“Well, its empty now,” he assured her.
She looked at the rest of her plants and saw all were soaking wet. Too much water was not healthy for greenhouse plants. She tapped the side of the cistern, heard the emptiness within and sagged in defeat. “I must have not shut off the valve properly yesterday.”
“I doubt that. Let me have a look.” He set the buckets aside and joined her. A series of pipes was supposed to deliver a small amount of water to each pot tray when she turned the valve. It was easier than carrying buckets and much more efficient. But now each dish beneath each pot was full to overflowing.
Giddy squinted at each pipe and then sighed. “Damn. I think it may be broken somewhere.”
He turned away, rummaged in his coat pocket and stood with his back to her a long moment. When he turned around, he had spectacles perched on his nose.
Jessica stared at him in surprise. “When did you get those?”
“February.”
While she’d been away. She frowned. That was another thing Gideon hadn’t yet told her about. Any moment she expected to discover he had become someone else entirely. She would not like that.
She moved toward him and peered up into his face. The spectacles made him seem like a stranger at first, and she had to admit he might be. “You were getting headaches before I left for my season.”
He nodded. “Too much reading by poor light at night has strained my eyes, I’m told. The pain disappeared once I started wearing these.”