Hal laughed, glad to be able to end this visit on a lighter note.But after he promised to let Jonathan know how it went, vowed to write a glowing letter to his goddaughter, Amelia, thanking her for the frog, and walked his friend out to his carriage, Hal found himself troubled by Jon’s assessment of Lady Gemma Lively.Was Jon right?
But Hal was the one who had met her.Sparred with her.Nearly succumbed to the maddening urge to kiss her.
He knew exactly what sort of person she was.And despite her beauty and flashes of charm, despite the seething hunger she had awakened in Hal’s body, he knew that she was not the sort of person who could ever be happy with life in Little Kissington.He would not have a moment’s peace until she was gone.
And when he got to the Five Mile, he’d tell her he was ready to do whatever it took to get her and her family out of his village and out of his life for good.
ChapterFive
Gemma had observed many a sunrise in London, tumbling out of her carriage after a night of revelry to trip up the marble steps of Ashbourn House and fall into bed.
It was a much less pleasant experience, viewing the gradual break of daylight from the too-narrow bed where she’d been trying for hours, unsuccessfully, to sleep.Groaning, she closed her eyes against the gray morning light glaring in through the curtainless window.Finally, fitfully, she dozed off.
When Gemma awoke again, two hours later, she felt hardly any more rested than she had at dawn.But she dragged herself from the thin mattress with a yawn and a shiver as her bare feet touched the cold wood floor.“Wake up, Lucy.”
No response.Gemma sighed and went to the washstand to splash frigid water on her face and clean her teeth.Still shivering, she turned back to the still form on the bed.
“Lucy, come along.There’s so much to do, we must make a start.”
Groaning, Lucy burrowed under the threadbare blanket on the bed she and Gemma had shared.Aside from the rain pounding on the roof right over their heads and the concerning drip-drop of a leak somewhere in the vicinity that they absolutely could not afford to fix, Lucy and her restless feet were the main reason for Gemma’s inability to sleep.
So she had no compunction about striding around to Lucy’s side of the bed and whisking the blankets off her sister’s curled up form.Lucy shrieked in dismay and kicked out at Gemma, who dodged it easily after the hours of practice she’d just had.
“Get up,” she told Lucy ruthlessly as she shoved her arms into her muslin wrapper and belted the sash tightly over her nightrail.“I’m going to check on Mama.”
Henrietta was in the room next door.Both rooms had been rendered somewhat more livable last night, with Bess’s assistance.That meant sheets on the beds, a merrily crackling fire that had long since gone out, and the best dinner Gemma could honestly remember eating in her entire life.Nothing but a simple chicken soup with vegetables, but somehow it had been so savory and rich and light and nourishing.Remembering the way Lucy had stuck her head right into the bowl to lick it clean, Gemma grinned and played her trump card.
“If you get up now, perhaps you’ll be in time to see what Bess has made for breakfast.”
Lucy popped up, eyes wide.“Good point.I’ll get dressed.”
With her sister rousted from bed, Gemma went to the door and opened it a sliver to peer into the hallway.
She sighed.She’d held out a forlorn hope that the upstairs rooms of Five Mile House might look better in the daylight, but if anything, the reverse was true.Pitted, rutted wood floors, dust everywhere, a cobweb or two strung under the eaves—the place looked sad and worn out.Hopeless.
Gemma attempted for a moment to imagine one of her London friends, someone like the Duke of Thornecliff, willingly setting foot in this place.
No, it was no use.
Gemma had never bothered much with imagination.She preferred to accept and enjoy the reality of her life exactly as it was.
Well, that would have to change.Perhaps it was no more than a fantasy to expect that she could turn this dilapidated old inn into a fashionable place where the leaders of the Ton would want to be seen, but that fantasy was all Gemma had at the moment.
A fantasy, and a family that relied on her.
Seeing no one in the hall, Gemma tiptoed hurriedly next door to her mother’s room.She found Henrietta still abed, apparently sleeping more soundly than Gemma had managed.Gemma watched her mother for a moment, the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the lines on her face that one didn’t notice so much when Henrietta was awake.The depths of her grief showed in her still, slumbering countenance, a silent suffering that tore at Gemma’s heart.
Unwilling to wake her mother from whatever rest she could get, Gemma slipped back into the hall and returned to the room she and Lucy had shared only to find it empty.
Lucy’s shift was tossed carelessly over the foot of the rumpled bed.Her trunk was open, the floor around it strewn with ribbons and discarded gowns and pinafores.Gemma’s trunk was open, as well, the clothing inside disarranged from her search through it last night for her night clothes.It gave the whole room a look of chaos and disruption that made Gemma frown.
With a sudden shock, Gemma realized there was no one coming to tidy up the mess they’d made.
They had no servants.Bess had been an enormous help thus far, but as Hal Deveril, the most insolent, insufferable man in the county, had been so quick to point out, Bess was overworked as it was.She certainly didn’t have the time to take over as ladies’ maid for three women.
If Gemma wanted this mess removed, she’d have to pick it up herself.
Her stomach rumbled, and Gemma wondered if she might put off tidying until after breakfast.Until she realized that with her mother asleep and Lucy presumably already stuffing rolls into her face, there was no one to help Gemma lace up her stays.Lucy wore a short corset, light and easy to do up oneself, but with Gemma’s more generous proportions, she could never get away with that.
