“I beg your pardon, Mr Hammond,” she went on, eyes twinkling. “I seem to have discomfited you. You don’t wish to explain it, and clearly you don’t wish me to work on this section any further, so—”
“The duke was a man of loose morals, Mrs Hastings,” Jamie said, polishing his spectacles furiously. “There is no need for you to know of it, however.”
“If you mean his liking for women, I have already discoveredthat.During one particularly dull speech in the Lords, his grace enlivened proceedings by discussing the attributes of several ladies with a fellow peer. I believe it was a certain Lady D who took the palm, being described as having a perfect pair of apple dumplings.”
“Oh!” Jamie felt himself blushing. “I am so sorry!”
“Do not apologise, sir. I assure you such passages — and that wasn’t the only one — enliven my transcribing proceedings also. And after all, I’m not an innocent maiden, to be scandalised by such things. Henry and his friends used to discuss women over their ale.”
“He told you that?” Jamie said, rather shocked.
“Oh yes, for he liked me to know that he thought me the best of all of them. He was biased, of course, but what wife wouldn’t want to hear that she boasted the finest… um, apple dumplings? Oh, Mr Hammond, please don’t go any redder, or you will quite explode. I thought men were unshockable on that subject.”
“I… well, I… it is only that I have never had such a conversation before.”
“With a lady, you mean?”
“With anyone!”
“Good heavens! I understood that men seldom thought of anything else, but perhaps that was only Henry and his friends. Henry certainly thought about it constantly. Our marriage may have been short, but it was very… it was very…”
Abruptly, her lively mood evaporated, her voice wobbled and was that a tear lurking on her lashes? That was easier to deal with, he thought with relief. A woman talking about intimate matters in her marriage tied him in a thousand knots, and turned him instantly into the awkward boy who had wriggled and blushed his way through any talk of such topics from hisfather. But a woman in tears he could cope with, for it made him feel manly and protective.
“You miss him,” he said gently.
She nodded, pulling out a delicately embroidered handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes. “I do beg your pardon, sir. I am not normally a watering pot, but lately… and such a subject brings back so many memories.”
“I did not mean to remind you of such sad times.”
“Not sad — my time with Henry was very happy, so the memories are all good. Oh, we had our differences, naturally, but not for long,” she added brightly.
Her tone was so false to his ears that he wondered just what those differences had been. “But you must miss him enormously, and you are distressed, which is entirely my fault.”
“No, no. I do miss him, of course I do, and particularly the closeness that exists between husband and wife. Have you ever been married, Mr Hammond?” He shook his head. “Then perhaps you can’t imagine the bond that exists between two people who share everything together. When Henry died, it was as if a limb had been cut from me… I felt incomplete, somehow. And now, I see something of that closeness between Rowena and Richard, and now that Sophia Merrington has married Mr Payne…”
They were veering back towards the danger area again. He cleared his throat nervously. “Ah, yes. I see what you mean. You are forced to observe every day the same closeness that you have yourself lost.”
“And the baby,” she said, her voice so low it was barely audible.
Babies… that was safer ground. “You have no child to bring joy to your life.”
“Exactly! I was increasing… but I was so distraught when Henry died…” She buried her face in the tiny handkerchief.
“My dear Mrs Hastings, I am so sorry. I did not know. So you are doubly bereaved.”
And that brought on the tears in earnest. How inept of him, but how could he have known? He could not remember ever exchanging more than commonplaces with her before.
He crossed the room to the sideboard where the decanters stood and poured them both a large brandy.
“Try a little of this,” he said, pressing a glass into her hand. “It is my infallible remedy for all ailments, and it is especially efficacious for depression of the spirits.”
She sipped, then coughed heavily. “Oh, my goodness! What is that? It’s like nothing I have ever had before.”
“Brandy. Sip it very slowly. It will make you feel better, I am sure. Not that any drink, no matter how potent, can take away the grief you feel for your loss, but it will restore your usual equanimity.”
“Thank you, sir. You’re very good.”
“Does Mrs Richard know how the baby upsets you?”
