Not that she wanted to be good at running a coaching inn!It was hardly the life to which she was best suited, as anyone who knew her in London would be quick to point out.But Hal’s praise, sparse as it was, rang all the more sincere for being grudgingly given.Especially after their argument the evening before; it felt as though Hal was admitting he’d been wrong.About her.
No ode to her beauty or poem extolling her virtues could have made her happier.
In an exuberant mood, Gemma all but bounced over to serve Bess her ale.Bess had moved on to another table where Mr.Mulgrave, one of the farmers Gemma recognized, was animatedly chatting with a man at another table while three children of various ages climbed over him, the table, and the sticky pub floor.Mrs.Mulgrave was thanking Bess for a wonderful supper, made all the more wonderful by not having had to cook it herself, and Bess laughed.
The white man at the other table tipped a nod in Gemma’s direction as she walked up, but the lively conversation didn’t cease and the children went on with their games, and all around them were the sounds of people enjoying their pies, their ale, and the comfort of a little time spent together after the long, hard hours of work in the day.
Gemma appreciated it all the more, after the day she’d had.And knowing that it was happening here, at her family’s inn, gave her a warm glow.Because Hal was right—this place mattered to this village and the people who lived here.
It was really quite something to be a part of it, Gemma felt.Even for just a short while.
“Thank you for the ale,” Bess exclaimed.“But you didn’t need to do that, Gemma!I ought to be getting back to my kitchen.”
“Nonsense.There is no one else who needs feeding at present, and you have been on your feet since before dawn!At least take a moment to drink your ale.”
Bess took a dutiful sip and Gemma smiled in approval.Her smile slipped, however, when she caught sight of Lucy lurking near the stairs in her slightly too-short frock of simple and unadorned lavender muslin.She was alone, and Gemma sighed as her hopes for her mother’s appearance belowstairs withered and died on the vine.
Catching her eye, Lucy shrugged and spread her hands helplessly.Gemma beckoned her over.
Following her gaze, Mrs.Mulgrave said, “I understood that your mother had traveled here to Wiltshire with you, Lady Gemma.But I have not yet seen her out and about.”
“Ah.”More than a little embarrassed—and worried—to admit that her mother had not left her rooms in more than a week, Gemma felt her shoulders droop.“Unfortunately, my mother has been unwell.”
“Oh?I’m terrible sorry to hear that,” Mrs.Mulgrave said kindly.Gemma got the impression the woman would have liked very much to pat her hand comfortingly, if they’d known one another even a little bit better.
“Can I ask,” Bess began, then hesitated.“What is her ailment?”
Gemma hesitated, more out of uncertainty over how to describe Henrietta’s condition than anything else, and Bess hastened to add, “It is more than idle curiosity, I assure you.I have some nursing experience; the whole village suffered through a terrible fever last year.”
The same fever that had carried off the previous duke, Gemma surmised.
“Well, at first I thought it was grief, and Mama would begin to improve if we only gave her time.But then there was the shock of our…change in circumstances.And now I begin to worry that she will not ever recover her spirits.She will get dressed but will not hear of venturing downstairs.She barely eats.She takes no pleasure in the things that used to bring her joy, like paying calls or painting.She won’t even consider it, really.Lucy and I are at our wits’ end.”
“Would you allow me to try?”Bess asked, setting down her mug of ale.
“Try what?To get her to come downstairs?”Gemma blinked, her gaze straying to the clock behind the bar.“It’s nearly seven.”
“Will she be asleep yet?”
“No,” Gemma admitted, as Lucy joined them.“I was about to ask my sister to take her a tray and try to persuade her to eat something.”
“Let me invite her to come down and join us for supper,” Bess persisted.
Seeing that Gemma was wavering, Mrs.Mulgrave interjected, “Our Bess has a way about her, Your Ladyship.She once calmed a stallion that had got tangled in brambles so that the men could get near enough to cut the thorns away.Saved that horse from breaking its own leg thrashing about, trying to get free.There’s not many can resist her sweet nature.”
“Mrs.Mulgrave is too kind,” Bess protested, her fair skin showing a painfully red blush all the way down her long neck.“But I would be happy to visit with your mother and see if there’s a way she could be made more comfortable.”
Lucy clapped her hands together, eyes shining.“Bess, would you?Only I don’t know what to say to her anymore, nothing seems to penetrate, and?—”
She stopped mid-sentence, having caught sight of the way Gemma was biting her lip.A warning look came over Lucy’s small, pointed features.“Do not say no, Gemma!I vow, you are determined to do everything yourself, if it kills you and us!”
The injustice of this took Gemma’s breath away for a moment.“It’s not so much that I am determined to do it all on my own,” she said, more sharply than she liked.“It’s that there never seems to be much choice in the matter.”
“Well, Bess is offering you a choice now,” Lucy pointed out, crossing her arms over her flat chest.“I really don’t know what sensible objection you could possibly offer.”
“It’s a family matter.”Gemma spoke between clenched teeth, her jaw so tight it felt as though it might shatter like a dropped bar glass.“We ought not to burden anyone else with our problems.We shouldn’t even be discussing it here.”
At the table, Mrs.Muglrave, who had watched this exchange with considerable interest, sat back in her chair.Without looking away from Gemma, she plucked up one of her children, a toddler who had been reaching curious hands toward the whiskery little terrier under the neighboring table.As she settled the squirming child on her lap, she said, “Bless you, Lady Gemma.We’re all family here!”
