Free The Hidden Heart by Candace Camp Page B

her…” Again she sighed. “Ah, me, it’s a sad, sad thing. I think he must feel that he cannot bear to see a child here. Miss Gabriela is older than his own little one would have been, but still, it would be a reminder to him of all that he has lost.”
    “Then that is why he wants to find someone else to take her guardianship from him. I am sorry. I misjudged him.” Jessica frowned. “Poor man. I thought him simply grim and unsociable. I had no idea such loss lay at the base of his actions.”
    She thought back to the duke’s sharply carved face—the jutting lines of cheekbone and jaw, almost gaunt in their severity, the dark, brooding eyes, the taut lines of his body—and she could see now the sorrow that lay behind those things.
    “It is too bad that he has decided to turn Gaby away,” Jessica went on. “I think you are right. She might be just the thing he needs in his life.” She sighed. “Ah, well, I shall just have to explain it to Gaby as best I can.”
    After Jessica left the housekeeper’s room, she walked into the Great Hall, the large area that ran back through the middle of the house from the front door, centered by the staircase. It was two stories high and had been the main room of the castle back in its early days. It was here that the housekeeper had said the late duchess’s portrait hung.
    Obviously the first few pictures were not of her, for they were of men in the attire of Tudor and Stuart times. She came upon a painting of a woman in a high white-powdered wig, and then, just beyond that, was a portrait of a young woman in modern dress. Jessica stopped, sure that this must be the duke’s Caroline. She was beautiful, even allowing for the flattering nature of most portraits. Tall and slender, she smiled invitingly out at the viewer. There was a dimple in one cheek, and her green eyes twinkled. She stood beside a chair, one slender hand resting upon its back, and at her feet sat a toy spaniel, its black-and-white coloring reflecting the coal-black of the woman’s hair. She was dressed in green velvet that emphasized her large eyes, and a magnificent emerald ring glowed on her finger.
    It was easy to see why Cleybourne had been so in love with her. She looked like the sort of woman who had men falling at her feet, declaring love. Jessica gazed at her with a certain fascination. She had never possessed the sort of charm that it was clear this woman had had. A gawky adolescent, Jessica had grown awkwardly into womanhood, and her blunt tongue and forthright manner had put off many a would-be suitor. She had never had the gift that women like the duchess seemed to possess naturally—the ability to flirt and beguile, to beckon men with a look or a smile. Her aunt, who had introduced her into society when she was eighteen, had often despaired of her, declaring that she would never catch a husband if she persisted in talking to men about the war in Europe instead of smiling and simpering like the other girls. Aunt Lilith, she remembered, had been both ecstatic and amazed when Darius offered for her. Jessica gave a small, wry smile as she thought that she, too, had been rather surprised.
    Shrugging off her memories, she turned away and started up the stairs. It was useless to think of the past. She would not know the sort of married happiness she had dreamed of as a girl, but thanks to the General’s generosity, she would be well able to live without having to scrimp and save, or depend on others. She had her independence, and she had Gabriela, and she would have a very pleasant life.
     
    Jessica turned over in her bed, sighing. It was late, and Gabriela had gone to sleep at least an hour earlier. Sleep, however, had eluded Jessica.
    It was not for lack of physical weariness. Baxter had offered to show them around the house, and she and Gabriela had spent the majority of the day tramping all over with him. Surprisingly tireless for a man his age, the butler had shown them the entire castle,