Page 75 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
“I must think of my daughter,” Helena said. “That is all I am doing. Thinking of my daughter.”
Mary looked at her steadily. Then she stood, smoothed her skirts, and nodded once. “I will write to Lady Clara. And I will pack Lavinia’s things.”
“Thank you.”
“Do not thank me,” Mary said quietly. “I do not agree with you. I am simply not going to argue anymore.”
She left.
Helena stood alone in the room with the open portmanteau and the afternoon light moving across the floor. After a moment she went to the small writing desk in the corner, pulled open the drawer, and took out a sheet of paper.
She sat with the pen in her hand for a long time. She looked at the note from Mrs. Baker, still folded on the desk beside her.Your apple pie has carried the day.She thought about his face when she had said the rhubarb would lose. The particular way he smiled when he was trying not to.
She pressed her lips together and began to write.
She did not write for long. Whatever the note said, it did not take many words. When she finished she folded it, wrote his name on the outside, and set it on the desk where it would be found.
Then she went back to the portmanteau and kept packing.
Gideon sat at the breakfast table the following day, cracking his egg when his eyes fell to the two table settings that stood unused as yet.
She hadn’t come down for dinner again the night before, the second in a row. This morning, he had not waited for his breakfast, instead he’d consumed his porridge while it was still warm, and finished his tea before waiting.
He’d perused the London papers - a couple of days later now - and the local paper.
When the clock struck ten, he rose and made his way out of the room, indicating that breakfast could be removed to one of the footmen.
He walked outside, the morning sun already warming his face, and stopped at the little enclosure that had been created by the house for Ruby, the little pig. Gideon had ordered two of the adult pigs moved here from the stable, where they were usually housed, so they could keep Ruby company.
The three pigs were currently busy finishing their breakfast and he watched for a while as they oinked happily, before rushing toward a puddle created by last night’s rain. Ruby rolled on her back, legs in the air and enjoyed the mud while the two adults tended to their own tasks, which involved sitting in a patch of sunshine.
The minder, who had been assigned to the pigs’ welfare, rounded the corner and Gideon waved him over.
“Martin, has Her Grace been here to see the pigs yet?”
The man bit his lip and worked his jaw.
“She has, before she departed, Your Grace.”
“Departed? Has she gone into town?”
The man’s chest inflated and then deflated again as he let out a puff of air.
“She said she was going into town.”
“York?” Why would she go into York?
“No, London,” Martin corrected and Gideon’s whole world shifted.
“London?”
A buzzing set in and he shook his head, hastening back into the house.
“Heathcliff!” He bellowed and his words echoed off of the tall walls.
“Yes, Your Grace?” The man hastened around the corner rather rapidly.
“Has Her Grace departed?”
