He needed her to go for his own sanity’s sake, but every inch of him wished for her to stay.
Mrs. Lenning stopped. “Are you coming, Grace?”
It was decided. Grace straightened, and she walked away. It was only a goodnight and not a goodbye, he reminded himself, but that only brought reality back to the forefront.
One day he would have to say goodbye, and the thought terrified him.
Chapter 16
Grace was more confused than ever. How could one quarter hour tête-à-tête cause such chaos in her heart?
The way Lord Gladsby had looked at her last evening was enough to undo a woman. She’d wanted to fall into his arms and never let go. Perhaps it had been the firelight and Christmas punch, but it had worked all the same. If she had not already been in love with him, she certainly was now.
“Grace, can you hand me that basket?” Prudence said, her arms full of used linens.
Plucking the large wicker basket from the other side of the table where all the goods for Chrismas boxes were gathered, she held it out for Prudence to deposit her load.
“Who are these for?” she asked.
“Mrs. Pickering,” Mrs. Gibbons answered. “She’s got a passel of children who are always dirtying their linens, so I thought an extra set would be appreciated.”
Grace nodded, impressed by the housekeeper’s knowledge of the estate tenants and staff. Already they’d filled multiplebaskets for tenants and still Lady Hamdon brought more items from about the house to be donated, some of them appearing barely worn.
“I believe this is the last of it,” Lady Hamdon said at last, her arms full of a pretty rust-colored fabric.
Mrs. Gibbons’s face scrunched in confusion. “Where did that come from?”
Lady Hamdon settled the armload in a finely decorated box. “Just a few things I had lying around at Blackwell Manor.”
With hands settled on her hips, Mrs. Gibbons shook her head. “Lying around my eye. That fabric looks untouched.”
Lifting the box into her arms, Lady Hamdon smiled. “I touched it quite a lot in order to bring it here.” She held out the box to Mrs. Gibbons. The older woman’s expression fell, her eyes open in amazement.
“It’s for you, Mrs. Gibbons.”
The old woman’s lower lip trembled. “Oh, Emma.” Reverently, she accepted the box, staring down at its contents. Then she gently placed it on the table and gathered Lady Hamdon in her arms. The movement was so natural and fluid between the two women that it opened Grace’s eyes as to how close the bond was between Mr. and Mrs. Gibbons and the Hensworth children.
Pulling back, Lady Hamdon said, “I knew you would like it.”
Mrs. Gibbons pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, then swatted at Lady Hamdon with it. “You little conniver. I should have known you’d pull something like this.”
Lady Hamdon danced away from her reach and laughed. “You deserve it for having to put up with my grumpy old curmudgeon of a brother.”
“Who are you calling old?” A masculine voice said from the door.
Grace spun to see Lord Gladsby casting his sister a mock glare. He looked so fine in his dark blue coat and buff breeches. His eyes flitted to her a moment before he stepped into the room.
“I also called you grumpy and a curmudgeon and yet you are not protesting those.” Lady Hamdon smirked.
“Why protest a compliment?”
Lady Hamdon snickered. “Only you would think those were a compliment.”
He nodded in greeting to the other ladies in the room, stopping before Grace as he inspected the baskets. “I hope my sister is not working you too hard.”
“Not at all. She has done a majority of the work herself.” Grace smiled, but he frowned, raising his eyebrows at Lady Hamdon.
Her Ladyship held up her hands. “Do not turn into an overprotective ogre on me. It really has not been that much.”
