“Who knows what?”
“Je-Jessie,” she stammered again. “About …” She offered him the sketch to see rather than uttering any more words. He took it from her fingers, his expression altering as he realized what she meant.
“What did she say?”
“She says she’s going to tell Gilbert. When he comes back. Owen … what will happen to the two of us then?” she asked, feeling more tears trickle down her cheeks. Owen tossed the drawing to the side, letting it drift down and land on top of one of the open crates as he reached for her. Diana let his arms envelop her, pulling her into his chest as she rested her head on his shoulder, clinging to the material of his waistcoat. “I … I cannot lose you,” she whispered.
“No one is losing anyone.” His voice was deep, and his hands grew more insistent. She felt the change, his hands soft one minute then strong the next, holding her tightly to him. “This isn’t over, Diana. Trust me in that.”
“She said she’s in love with Gilbert. She wants me gone.” Diana was barely in control of what she was saying; she was that eager to impart everything that had happened to Owen as fast as she could. “She thinks Gilbert will send me away, and what will he do to you? I cannot …” She broke off as her breath hitched with more tears.
“Diana, please listen to me.” Owen pulled her slightly out of their embrace, just enough so that he could rest their foreheads together, creating a deeper connection as one of his hands lifted to her cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
“You cannot promise that. We don’t know how Gilbert will react.”
“Then we’ll make sure he doesn’t find out. We shall speak to Jessie.”
“Speak to her? She cannot be reasoned with, Owen.” Diana pulled her head off his, trying her best to make it clear how wrong he was on this point. “She was audacious, threatening, practically crying at the thought of Gilbert. She loves him, and no one with that much passion in them will be reasoned with so easily.”
“Then we must speak to the logical part of her mind rather than the passionate side. Trust me, Diana. There is a way out of this yet.”
***
“I need your advice,” Owen said as he grabbed Tommie’s arm and pulled him away from the kitchen worktop.
“Oi! I was putting the finishing touches to my quiche. I cannot leave it now!”
“You can. Get someone else to finish it.”
“Then it will not be perfect.”
“Life isn’t perfect. I can deal with one quiche not being perfect too.” Owen was adamant. Something in his tone must have told Tommie it was a serious matter as the man abandoned arguing and followed him. They walked out of the kitchen, past the scullery maids and footmen, heading along the corridor of the staff quarters before reaching Owen’s office.
He hurried Tommie inside and closed the door behind the two of them. As Owen leaned on the door, needing the support to keep standing, Tommie sat back in one of the chairs and folded his arms.
“Let me guess, that mess I warned you of is about to befall you?”
“You could say that,” Owen said, running his hands through his hair and tugging on the ends in frustration. “Someone else knows.”
“Who?” Tommie asked, sitting forward in alarm.
“Jessie.”
“Ah … not good.” Tommie leaned forward, steepling his hands together and resting his chin on the bridge he had created. “You could not have picked a worse person to know your secret. She shares the duke’s bed.”
“Thank you for spelling out my problem.” Owen pushed off the door and rounded the desk, sitting on the other side opposite Tommie. “Now, I need your advice.”
“On what to do?”
“On how to get Jessie to listen to me,” Owen spoke eagerly as he leaned forward over the desk. “She told Diana she’s in love with the duke.”
A curse escaped Tommie’s lips, and he shook his head.
“That man … what a talent he has for manipulating women into his bed. Do you think he makes all the maids fall in love with him?” Tommie asked. “It would explain why they were all so willing to risk their positions here for the sake of a few nights in his bed.” He scoffed at the idea, just as Owen did too. “Isn’t it what you’re doing too?” Tommie’s question made Owen flinch.
“What do you mean?”
“Risking your position for love?”
