His smile faltered a little. “Perhaps you would teach me about mushrooms and about the gardens while I am here.”
“Oh, well, you do not need me for that. Most of the responsibility for the garden falls to Father’s land steward. You need to speak to him for specifics, but he’s occupied elsewhere for the rest of the day, unfortunately.” Jessica tapped her chin, considering how best to get rid of Lord James quickly. People frequently came to Papa for advice. Perhaps talking of the estate instead of politics with Lord Newfield would cool Papa’s temper over Rebecca’s sudden visit, too. “If you would come with me. Father is the next best person to help you.”
Without waiting for a response, Jessica marched across the room and inserted herself into the conversation with her parents and Rebecca. “Excuse me, Father. Lord James is most interested in the estate and in seeing the gardens today, particularly the extensive kitchen gardens, where our fungus grows. Can you help him?”
“Oh, yes,” Mother murmured. “I think that a fine idea.”
Father stared at Gillian, and Jessica was sure some unspoken communication was taking place because his lips twitched. Rather than feel excluded, Jessica was grateful. Mother could always convince Father quicker than anyone she’d ever met. It must be because they loved each other.
“Yes, of course,” Father agreed, nodding slowly. “Come along, Lord James. Lord Newfield, you should come too. There is much to see on your short visit with us.”
Jessica suppressed a smile. Short visit? How smart of Father to set limits on their stay with just a few words.
Father took Lord James and his father away.
“I came as soon as I realized Lord Newfield was planning to follow Father into the country,” Rebecca blurted out as soon as they were gone.
Gillian sighed. “The bill will never pass in its current form. Your father had told Lord Newfield that long before we left.”
Rebecca winced and glanced toward Jessica. “I don’t believe that is the only reason Lord Newfield has come.”
“Why has he then?”
But Jessica knew the reason already. “They have come for me. For my fortune, more precisely.”
“Indeed. Our paths crossed in London, and Newfield peppered me with questions about Jessica. I fear he has driven his son here to ask Father for your hand in marriage on his son’s behalf.”
“That is my impression, too.” Jessica scowled. “But Lord James is all but engaged to Lady Hannah Alexander, or he seemed about to be.”
“But his father still holds the purse strings, so he may not have a choice in who he weds.” Rebecca winced “And he is a powerful ally for Father. He tends to get his own way in everything, too,” Rebecca warned in a quiet voice that sent shivers over Jessica’s body.
“I will refuse Lord James, should he ask,” Jessica promised. “I’m not marrying someone who treats me the way he has Lady Hannah. I don’t care how important his father thinks he is. I won’t marry a fortune hunter. Not ever.”
Rebecca sigh suggested relief. “I suspected that, which is why I wanted to be here to advise you. When you refuse him, it must be done with great delicacy.”
Gillian enveloped Jessica in a hug, mothering her in a way she’d become used to in recent months. “Having my brother’s family around tonight might delay Lord Newfield from discussing his intentions with your father. I had no idea about Lord James’ renewed interest in you, neither did your father, I’m sure. I’ll warn him as soon as I can.”
“We’ll handle this as we do all unpleasantness,” Rebecca promised. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “As a family.”
Jessica tensed, but Gillian only nodded. “We’d better amend my request for tea, don’t you think, my dears? Jessica, could you find Brown and inform him that tea will be needed for only the three of us. I think we’d best retire upstairs to my private boudoir, where we can talk freely and not be disturbed.”
Family. Jessica was grateful for all the help she could get, especially if it brought Mother and Rebecca closer. She pulled them both into a hug. “Thank you.”
Chapter 8
Gideon rubbed the moisture from his hair and his body, glad the grit was gone from his skin. Building a bathing room at Quigley had been a costly though useful addition, especially for a single man with only a few servants.
Without a large household staff, the effort of bathing had become a much simpler chore since the installation of a boiler for piping water to this tiled room. Having warm water running from pipework instead of lugging bucket after bucket from the kitchen saved everyone’s backs from the burden, too.
He usually didn’t bathe so early in the day, but an accident that had seen him slide on a muddy field had made being cleaner highly desirable.
He slipped on the banyan he’d been given a few days ago for his birthday and grinned as the fabric encased his body in such soft delight. The luxury of the garment and Jessica’s generosity still overwhelmed him when he put it on each day. He could never repay Jessica for the gift, so he made sure that each wear wasn’t ever taken for granted.
It was his own fault he’d fallen rather than paying attention to where he’d placed his feet. He’d been daydreaming—as he’d done too often since Sunday night’s encounter with Jessica.
Foolishness.
He buttoned himself up so he was decently covered for the dash upstairs to his bedchamber to redress in clothes suitable for the outing he’d decided to make that afternoon. He was expected at the tavern soon. The proprietor had hinted he might be interested in the regular coin to be gained by hosting the school, at least for a little while.