Armored Hearts - By Melissa Turner Lee Page 0,16
the few things in life which are perfectly predictable. When I’m stressed or bored, I go through Lord Pensees’s books and work them. Only, the numbers were not working out favorably.” She frowned and shook her head, realizing she was speaking out of turn. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be sharing Lord Gerald’s personal matters with you. That wasn’t becoming.”
“You call him Lord Pensees and Lord Gerald?”
Tabitha blushed. “Since I’m not allowed a more personal term for him, the way Gareth addresses him as Grandfather, he allows me to use his Christian name in private, but still with Lord preceding it.”
“Are you related to the family?”
Tabitha answered Jessamine with only a stare.
“I’m sorry. I’m speaking out of turn this round. There are not so many social taboos in America.”
“It’s quite all right. I will answer you like this. When Henry VIII’s mistress gave him a son, he wasn’t allowed the surname of Tudor, but given the surname Fitzroy, meaning son of royalty, as a way for the king to acknowledge him as his son. I am Tabitha Fitzgerald and am the legal ward of Lord Gerald Smyth, Earl of Pensees.”
Understanding sunk in as Jessamine’s eyes widened. “I see.”
“Do you view me differently now?”
Jessamine reached over and patted her friend on the hand. “Nonsense. We are sisters in automation. The rest is unimportant.”
“I wish everyone saw it as such. With no money or title, and the family estate in trouble, I will be seeking another situation shortly.”
Jessamine’s heart went out to Tabitha. She hardly knew her and yet a fast bond had formed between them. “Is there anything I can do? Do you think your family would accept assistance from me or my father?”
Tabitha shook her head and stared out the window, but her eyes seemed to be looking at something other than the rolling scenery. “No, pride would never allow them to accept charity.”
Jessamine leaned in to whisper, “If I were to marry Mr. Gareth, my money would be his money. And…you know why I’m here.”
Tabitha rolled her sky-blue eyes. “Gareth will never marry. He won’t even talk to a lady. He says he’d be bored with nothing polite to say after a five-minute conversation.”
Jessamine laughed. “He considers his first five minutes of conversation to be polite?”
Tabitha laughed, too. “Gareth is sweet at heart. He really is. His grandfather and others, they’ve made him feel…I don’t know, self-conscious. He pushes everyone away except me. Neither of us have mothers, so we bonded early.”
The carriage stopped and Thompton opened the door for them. Jessamine smiled at him. “Thank you, Thompton.”
He bowed and tilted his head toward Tabitha. “What time should I be back fer ye?”
“You don’t need to return. Mrs. Collins will see us home.”
Thompton nodded, climbed back up and drove the carriage on. Tabitha grabbed Jessamine’s arm and looped hers through it. “Now we go around back to the stables.”
A dark cloud hovered almost directly over the stable. It nearly blocked out the sun and seemed strange in the otherwise clear sky. Two women stood in front of the building, each in the other’s personal space and both red faced as they argued.
A stern lady dressed in black and a high collar crossed her arms in front of her chest. “We’ve told you, the BUBO club is not a good fit for your sort of automation. You are no longer welcome to our meetings.”
Jessamine shot a glance at Tabitha, whose face fell. Tabitha whispered, “That’s Mrs. Williams.”
The other dark-haired woman stood back, placing her hands on each side of her primrose bustle. Her mouth twisted in derision. “Do you really think you can gain acceptance except by force?”
Mrs. Williams pointed away from the stables. “You are not welcome, Mrs. Steel.”
The dark-haired woman gathered up her skirts and stormed in their direction. Tabitha pulled Jessamine to the side and out of sight. They waited until the woman had stormed by before approaching the door. Jessamine’s stomach twisted as they stepped toward Mrs. Williams. The woman’s lips were puckered, and she ran her hands on both sides of her severe, ash-blonde bun. She stood much taller than Jessamine or Tabitha.
Mrs. Willimams blinked hard and nodded to Tabitha. “Miss Fitzgerald, nice to see you. And who is your guest?”
Tabitha pulled Jessamine in closer. “This is Miss Jessamine Keller. She’s visiting from the Americas.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Jessamine. “And do you already know how to re-work hats?”
Jessamine reached into her collar and pulled out her owl pendant. “Yes, my mother taught me.”
“And your