Free Secrets of the Heart by Jillian Kent Page B

the pain in her head and arm. “Where is she?”
    “In the breakfast room. You’ll be needin’ yer robe, Lady Madeline,” Daisy commanded. Madeline grabbed the robe and bolted from the room. The ideas darting through Madeline’s mind made her ashamed, but she could not help it. Her mother had not whistled for a long time. Her father had always teased his wife that it wasn’t ladylike to whistle, but that was Grace, and he didn’t fault her for it. Madeline thought he rather enjoyed it.
    She stopped before she got to the breakfast room when she heard her mother’s jaunty tune drifting down the hall. “She is whistling,” Madeline muttered irritably under her breath. Steeling herself for the worst, she entered the room.
    “Madeline, dear, how are you feeling this morning?” Grace asked pleasantly.
    “Don’t you think the better question is, why are you whistling?”
    “Whatever are you talking about?” Grace asked. “I’ve whistled before.”
    “Oh no, you haven’t. Not since before Father’s death at least. Are you over him so soon?” Madeline demanded.
    “What kind of question is that? And how dare you ask it? It’s been a year, a bit more than a year since you’re counting so carefully.” Grace knocked over her teacup as she reached for the sugar. A dark stain formed on the cream-colored tablecloth and seeped across the table.
    “I need to know, that’s all.”
    Madeline followed her mother’s gaze to the portrait of Thurston Whittington and stood rigidly at the end of the table. “Mother, are you listening to me? Do you have strong feelings for Lord Vale?” she asked, remembering the scene she had stumbled on the night before, a scene she would just as soon forget.
    “Well, certainly not the same feelings I had for your father. Lord Vale is entertaining. I need someone to make me laugh. I miss laughing.”
    Madeline held her breath. “You know what I’m trying to say, Mother…” Madeline felt the heat spread up her neck and into her face. “Romantic feelings.”
    “Madeline! That is no concern of yours. I am very fond of Lord Vale. As I said, he makes me laugh. He was a friend of your father.”
    “Mother, quit dancing around the question, please. You kissed him. And how do you know, really know, he was a friend of Papa?”
    “He said he was, dear, and I’m certain that your father mentioned him on more than one occasion. What possible reason could he have for lying? I think you are making too much of this. Let’s talk of something else.”
    “I don’t want to talk about something else. I want to know what you plan to do about Lord Vale. And I’ll tell you why he might be lying,” Madeline continued, undaunted. “He can get himself a wealthy widow… and access to everything you own.”
    “But he needs nothing from me. He’s wealthy in his own right. And I’m not planning anything.” Grace put both her hands flat on the table.
    “Will you marry him if he asks you?”
    Grace looked stunned. “I don’t know.”
    “You are thinking about it though, aren’t you?” Madeline continued to push. “I can see it in your face. I saw it in his eyes last night at dinner. I can see right through him, and he knows it!”
    “You, my dear child, have an overactive imagination.”
    “Promise me you won’t marry the man until you know him better. Please.” Feeling defeated and tired, Madeline sank into a chair at the far end of the table.
    “I can’t make such a promise. It is unfair of you to ask such a thing. Someday soon you will be married and gone, and I will be here. Alone.”
    The cook, rosy-cheeked from the heat of the kitchen, bustled in with a platter of ham, poached eggs, and a wedge of cheese and added them to the bounty on the sideboard. “Why, you’ve spilled your tea, ma’am. Why didn’t you ring for me? I’ll go brew up some more right off.”
    “Never mind, Cook. I’ve lost my appetite,” Grace said, staring at her daughter. “But I’m certain Madeline