Page 86 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
He was not imagining that.
He thought about Cassandra, and how she had kept him in uncertainty. The endless waiting for her to return, for her to wake up and realize Gideon was what she needed, what she’d wanted – not the Italian. The hoping for something that was never coming. He had sworn he would never allow it again.
He picked up Ruby and carried her back to her crate. Latched the door.
He was not going to sit here.
He went inside, called for his horse, and rode out at a pace that surprised even himself.
* * *
He caught the carriage at the edge of the village, parked in front of Mrs. Baker’s bakery.
“I knew it,” James said. He hadn’t yet entered the bakery and was standing outside the door.
“You knew nothing. I changed my mind independently.”
“I see. Well, it is fortunate then that I have a sweet tooth and had a desire to stop, then. I wanted some pie for the road. Come in with me and tell me how you so independently changed your mind while I select a pie.”
Mrs. Baker was behind the counter. She looked up, and her expression moved through surprise into something more complicated.
“Your Grace. I had heard there was some difficulty between yourself and Her Grace. I hope things are not as bad as they are saying.”
“Things are not entirely straightforward,” Gideon said. “But I am on my way to London to speak to her.”
Mrs. Baker pressed both hands flat on the counter. “I am very glad to hear it. I truly am. I thought the two of you were the finest pair I had seen in a long while, standing here arguing about my pies.” She shook her head. “Mr. Baker and I have been at it thirty-one years. I will tell you what I tell every young person who comes in here looking miserable about their marriage. It is never easy. Not once has it been easy. But you do not stop trying. That is all it is.”
“That is what I intend to do,” Gideon said.
“Good.” She turned and lifted a box from the shelf behind her. “Then take this. I baked it this morning and I think it was meant for you.” She set it on the counter and opened the lid. “I had a thought after the vote. The rhubarb did not do well on its own and the apple won as it always will. But I wondered what if the two together made something better than either one alone.” She looked at him. “Rhubarb apple. It is the best thing I have made in some years, if I do say so.”
Gideon looked at the pie. Then at James, who was already reaching for his wallet.
They left with ten pies loaded into the footwell of the carriage with more care than most cargo received.
“Ten,” Gideon said, as the carriage pulled away.
“Mrs. Baker was very persuasive,” James said. “And I have been eating your cook’s food for four days.” He looked out the windowas Haslington receded behind them. “Besides. If the reunion does not go well, at least we will have something to eat.”
Gideon looked at the top box. Rhubarb apple.
He settled back as the carriage turned onto the London road, and felt, for the first time in three weeks, something other than the hollow quiet of Blackthorne behind him.
CHAPTER 37
HELENA
That afternoon, Helena found Clara in the sitting room that evening, her embroidery in her lap and a cup of tea going cold beside her in the way that Clara’s tea always did, because Clara invariably forgot to drink it while she was talking.
Helena sat down across from her and told her what Frances had suggested.
Clara set down her embroidery at once.
“Yes,” she said.
“I have not agreed to anything yet.”
“You should. Frances is absolutely right.” Clara turned to face her properly. “Whatever you decide about Gideon — whatever happens between the two of you — you will never be entirely freeof any of it if you cannot break with the past first. You know that is true. You have known it for some time.”
