Her eyes became misty and distant. “He’s doing too much. He’s in the middle of some new operation, probably for Wellington. He so driven. I fear for him sometimes.”
“Have you told him?”
“How do you tell a commander anything? He likes a salute, a yes, a no . . . and again.”
Her face fevered anew as if she hadn’t meant to say that, but the duke and duchess’s care for each other was so obvious and thick. The duchess loved her stubborn husband very much.
She sat at my desk, moving my sketches. “I even asked his friend the viscount to intervene, but Lord Gantry is still hunting his wife. He’s not much use. I’m so sorry for him. He’s desperately in love with a woman who’s run off.”
The viscount was a tall steady man who wore his chestnut hair too long and tied in a ribbon. He always frowned. He had no secretive gap between his teeth. “Hopefully things will be resolved.”
“If he were unattached, he’d be a good match for you.”
“Noooo. He’s so close to the duke, it would be like marrying a brother. Not for me.”
“You don’t have to leave us, Jemina. You’re a sister to me. To the duke too.”
My heart whimpered, and my eyes were hot. I loved Patience. She was my family. I knew I’d lost family. I had that feeling so often when I dreamed, but this love of Patience was a miracle. I was ever grateful.
She yawned and stretched. “I’m never this tired. Chasing Lionel and now the duke has exhausted me. Lady Bodonel will visit tomorrow. She wants to be a part of my husband’s life, but he has so little trust of her.”
“And you do?”
“Someone has to make her easy. If I keep her from pestering Busick and teach her how to treat her son, then all will be well. It’s the least I can do for him.”
“You’re an odd one, Patience. You lead me and the other widows in so many ways, but you defer to the duke. How do you do it?”
I lowered my chin. “Maybe that’s too personal of a question to ask.”
Her soft, warm-coconut-smelling fingers lifted my chin. “It’s not. And the answer is I don’t know. I merely trust in his love. And he reminds me that I can trust in me.”
“That simple? That’s the secret?”
Patience yawned again. She looked so tired. “Yes, just like that.”
“Your Grace, go to bed. Go on to the saluting saint. The duke need’s his top recruit well rested.”
Patience stood and drew me into another hug, and I put my head onto her shoulder. “Busick is far from sainthood. We warred in the beginning. We butted heads, but I never doubted the man he was, how honor and protection for me and my son were his top priority.”
She released me. “Figure out what you want. If you never recover your memory, what will make you happy?”
Ashbrook’s question again.
“Good night.” She left me with my divergent thoughts of liking and not liking Ashbrook. Climbing into my comfy bed, the left side, I pulled my woolen blanket up to my chin.
Though he’s been turning down my invitations, I’d write Ashbrook again, until he agreed to see me. Surely we could strike up a peace. I’d be sweet to him, and then that earl would tell this girl all.
CHAPTER 12
DANIEL—A LETTER FROM ADETERMINEDWIDOW
Holding the door, Daniel let the Lord Mayor out of his office. The tall, slim man with his hair, full white and thinning, grimaced as he passed. “I have to assign you another case for the Crown. The argument you will use sounds logical. I think you will do well.”
Daniel held his breath for a moment, his speech had to be said without emotion. Yet how could he not, swallowing such condescension. “My lord, I’ve tried many cases for the Crown these six years, so many before your tenure.”
“My appointment is new, and I want the highest conviction rate possible. You can understand.”
Of course Daniel did. He understood that he was the only one of his colleagues questioned in this manner, not even the more junior ones. “Yes, my lord.”
