With much good-natured grumbling, Gabby’s sisters and brother filed out. All except Rose.
“Might I have just a word with my sister, my lord? I shan’t be long.”
Huntley looked askance to Gabby.
She nodded. He came back to the bed and picked up Lady Macbeth. “Only for a moment,” he said. “I’ll take the queen on a short garden walk.”
The door latched softly behind them.
Rose came to the bed. “I owe you a hoard of apologies.” Her expression was filled with regret. “In being brutally honest with myself, it is fair to say I’ve been a self-righteous prig.”
The sting of tears burned behind Gabby’s eyes. “Oh, Rose.”
“I suppose I’ve always been jealous that you married an earl, and I was forced in settling for a lowly baron. He was an abhorrent husband, you know. Our union was based solely in regard to his standing in society.”
There was nothing Gabby could say to that.
“Estelle came to the house the day she and Lady Liverpool visited Hope House. She was quite—” She stopped, her face shifting to speculative as if considering her words. “Condescendingly cheerful in recounting the young women you and Rebecca had taken in. She was disgusted by the diversity—”
Gabby stopped her. “—And you?”
“I told Estelle that anyone you and Rebecca helped were probably in desperate need.”
“And?”
“And, I meant it, Gabby.”
Gabby started. Her oldest, staidest sister had never, ever called her by her nickname. It was disconcerting. She put her hand to her head. She was growing more tired by the moment. “What is it you are trying to say, Rose?”
“I’ve been a horrid sister. What I’m trying to say, is that I wish to do something more important with my life. With Stanford gone, and I’m shocked to admit it, a sense of freedom has pervaded my” —she wrinkled her nose—“pretentiousness.”
Gabby gaped at her.
“I want to help, Gabby. I want to help you and Rebecca.” She sank down into Huntley’s vacated chair, and speared Gabby with the most earnest, most steadfast, look Gabby could ever remember seeing from her. “If you’ll let me. Even if it’s just monetary. For the first time in my life, I… wish for something more. I wish to meet these young women you are helping.”
Gabby couldn’t believe her ears. She narrowed her gaze on her sister. “These are women, men similar and possibly ones, your husband assaulted.”
Rose flinched. “All the more reason to help then,” she whispered.
Gabby couldn’t take it all in. “Rose, please. I forgive you. There’s no need to do this.”
“There is every need,” she said sounding like the elder sister of old.
“All right. Speak to Rebecca. Obviously, I won’t be out of this chamber for several more days—”
“You have the right of it, Lady Huntley.” Her husband stood in the open doorway with a small smile on his lips, Lady Macbeth ensconced securely within his hold.
Rose stood. “Forgive my overstay, Huntley. I’ll take my leave.”
“He is funning you, Rose,” she said shooting Huntley a glare.
“No, he’s quite right. You need your rest.” She went to the door and turned back. “Get better quickly, Gabriella. I’ll see you soon.”
James moved to the bed, set Lady Macbeth loose, and assisted Gabby’s efforts to move deeper within the covers. She closed her eyes. “It felt good. Talking to Rose… felt good.
Despite Lady Macbeth’s slight stature and her damaged paw, her other three good paws managed to make it across the mattress, drawing Gabby’s smile. A second later, she felt the flick of Lady Macbeth’s tongue tickle her nose.
Huntley stretched out beside her on the other side of the bed. “You need to rest.”
