not worked so hard on this party to be denied.’
‘Pray consider, madam, it would be most unwise,’ put in the viscount, frowning.
Dominique pointed to a lady moving ponderously to join the new set that was forming.
‘Mrs Plover is even more advanced than I.’ She fixed her eyes upon Gideon. ‘I am not so delicate that I must sit out every dance, sir. I may not be able to dance a fast jig, but I shall join in this more stately measure.’ A mischievous smile lilted on her lips. ‘Which is why I instructed the musicians to play something slower. Now, will you partner me?’
She saw the smouldering fire in Gideon’s eyes and wondered if she had gone too far. The viscount laughed.
‘Your wife is a very determined lady, Gideon.’
The anger was replaced by a reluctant gleam. And there was something else in the back of those hazel eyes that set her spirits soaring. Admiration.
‘I am beginning to learn that, sir.’ Grinning, Gideon took her hand and led her off to join the next set.
He felt a curious rush of pride at the spontaneous applause that greeted them. It was something of a surprise to find how well she had been accepted at Rotham. The servants called her ‘the new mistress’ and even his father had warmed to her, despite her French blood.
* * *
The harvest supper was hailed as a success, and although the servants were clearly stifling yawns as they served breakfast the next morning there was an air of gaiety about the house that Gideon had not known for years. Nicky was already downstairs and looking none the worse for her exertions and the viscount was positively jovial when he greeted his son.
‘I thought I should be breaking my fast alone this morning,’ Gideon remarked, smiling.
He noted the bloom on Nicky’s cheeks. The thin, rather nervous girl he had married was gone, replaced by a cheerful, confident woman. He decided he liked the change. However, when the viscount suggested she should rest for the day, Gideon could only agree.
‘You must think of the child you are carrying,’ he told her, softening his words with a smile.
‘But I had planned to take a carriage ride today with Lord Rotham,’ she protested. ‘It has become our custom—’
‘Out of the question,’ replied the viscount firmly. ‘I would much rather you took a rest today.’ He hesitated. ‘I thought perhaps Gideon might ride out with me, to see the improvements that have been made to the estate.’
Dominique quickly perceived that she had been outmanoeuvred. The viscount was extending an olive branch to his son and he knew she would not do anything to prevent Gideon accepting this peace offering.
‘Yes, of course, sir,’ said Gideon. ‘But I have the renovations at Chalcots to discuss with Nicky.’
Smiling, Dominique shook her head.
‘We can do that later. I shall spend the morning attending to my correspondence.’ She added shyly, ‘But perhaps, Gideon, if the weather holds, you would take a turn in the garden with me when you come back?’
The alacrity of his assent was reassuring and she went off to write her letters. The windows of the morning room commanded a good view of the park, and she happened to look up sometime later to see Gideon and his father riding off together. They looked to be conversing and she hoped that this was the beginning of a better understanding between father and son.
* * *
The pair did not return until late afternoon and Gideon went immediately in search of his wife.
‘If you still wish to stroll in the gardens, I am at your command,’ he told her. ‘As long as you do not mind me in all my dirt.’
‘Not in the least.’ She laughed at him and, taking his arm, she accompanied him out to the shrubbery.
It was a beautiful afternoon with just enough breeze to prevent the heat from being uncomfortable.
‘The gardens look better than I remember,’ remarked Gideon.
‘Your father gave permission for another apprentice gardener.’
He slanted a look down at her.
‘At your suggestion? Of course it was, you have no need to tell me.’ He stopped and smiled at her. ‘You have made a great difference to this house, my dear. I have much to thank you for.’
A stray curl fluttered across her face and Gideon gently pushed the tendril behind her ear. His hand hovered for a moment, cupping her cheek, and she gazed up at him, a shy smile in her eyes. He drew back immediately, alarmed at how quickly the slumbering desire deep inside him had awoken. He looked away and they began to walk on.
‘Father and I talked, when we rode out this morning,’ he said. ‘It is a long time since we did anything together save quarrel.’
‘I am glad. One should not be at odds with one’s family.’
He heard the sadness in her voice and asked quickly, ‘Have you had news of your father?’
She shook her head, frowning.
‘No, it is not that. It is Max.’
‘The earl? What has he been doing now?’
‘It is rather what he did not do.’ She bit her lip. ‘When we lived at the Abbey Mama gave nearly all her letters to Max to frank, but since moving to the village she has been going to the posting office. The number of replies she receives now makes me think that my cousin was throwing her letters away.’
‘It would be just like Martlesham to discard the letters and say nothing about it, if he thought Jerome Rainault was dead.’ He patted her hand, keen to give her thoughts a happier turn. ‘My father has suggested you should invite your mother to come here, at least until your confinement.’ She stared at him and he added, ‘Father knows how much pleasure Mrs Rainault’s letters give you and thought you might feel happier with her close at hand.’
Relief shone in her eyes.
‘Oh, I would. So...yes, yes, please. I shall write to her this very day. I did not like to ask the viscount—’
‘Why not? You have shown no fear in persuading him to do so many other things.’
‘Ah, but that was for Rotham.’
He stopped and gave her a quick hug.
‘Dear Nicky, so brave about doing what you see as your duty, yet you would not ask for something for yourself.’
The weight of his arm on her shoulders, his body pressed close to her own, roused the now familiar desire inside her. The warmth in his gaze quickened her pulse, heating her blood. Their eyes were locked, saying so much more than could ever be put into words—but perhaps that was only her interpretation. Wishful thinking.
As if to prove her right, a sudden flush mounted Gideon’s cheek. He looked away, cleared his throat and began to walk on again,
‘Father is anxious for your well-being, my dear. If your mother’s presence would be a comfort, then she must come to Rotham.’
‘I would be v-very glad to have Mama with me,’ she stammered, still shaken by the effect of his careless embrace. ‘But I do not want to impose any extra guests upon your father.’
He chuckled. ‘Rotham is big enough to accommodate a dozen guests and Father need not see any of them.’
‘Then I will write immediately. In fact, I penned a note to her this very morning. I will open it and add a postscript. I know she will be happy to come and I will be delighted to see her.’
‘Good. Tell her to come as soon as possible. I will feel happier if you have more company, especially as I shall be leaving for Brook Street tomorrow.’
He led her to the