nevertheless if it turns out he has set his sights upon Jessica. Perhaps we can avoid mentioning it to her.”
Avery had simply looked pained.
“Jessica?” Anna had asked. “Did you know about this?”
Finally someone had thought to include her in this conversation. “Yes,” she had said, touching the pink rosebud beside her plate.
“Jessica?” Her mother had looked at her in astonishment.
Jessica had got to her feet, set her napkin beside her plate, and left the room, remembering to take her pink rosebud and the card with her. This morning the card read simply Gabriel. Had the daily rose not been a warning to her mother? Had she really thought he was sending one to any number of women, perhaps Estelle included? Or had she merely assumed that Jessica disdained his interest as she had disdained everyone else’s during the past six or seven years?
Was Avery going to come to the drawing room alone this time too, she wondered now, as he had done after Mr. Rochford called, to explain why he had withheld his blessing though he could not refuse his permission? What had Gabriel told him? The full truth? They had not discussed it last night, though she believed he wished to keep his secret for a little longer, until he had somehow dealt with the problem of Mr. Manley Rochford and his son.
Jessica closed her eyes for a few moments. It was Manley Rochford who had raped the neighbor’s daughter and probably murdered her brother. Gabriel was sure on the first, almost sure on the second. If the murderer had not been Manley, then it had very probably been Mr. Philip Rochford, Gabriel’s cousin, his uncle’s son, who was no longer alive to admit or deny the charge.
The door opened suddenly—she had not heard footsteps on the stairs—and Avery ushered Gabriel inside before stepping in after him. Jessica’s stomach performed an uncomfortable flip-flop. The events of last night—all of them—seemed somehow unreal this morning. The fact that he was standing here now proved that they were not, however. But she had never been kissed as she had been last night. She was not even sure he had initiated it. She was the one who had stepped up close to him and set her hands over his chest—because the need to touch him had been overwhelming. It had felt . . . breathtaking. She had admitted to wanting him, and he had admitted to wanting her. Wanting—such an inoffensive word. But he had mentioned bed, and all sorts of shocking images had filled her mind, and far more than just her mind. And then he had kissed her . . .
Now here he was, looking elegant and behaving very properly for a morning visit. He was bowing to her mother and to Anna.
“Your Grace,” he said as a sort of collective greeting to both.
He merely smiled at Jessica.
“Mr. Thorne has informed me,” Avery said, “that he and Jessica are betrothed and intend to marry by special license within the week.”
Anna set her knitting aside and got to her feet. Jessica’s mother froze, the hand holding her embroidery needle suspended above the cloth.
“I have given my blessing,” Avery added.
Anna hurried across the room, her right hand extended, a warm smile lighting her face. “I am very happy for you, Mr. Thorne,” she said. “I am sure I shall love having you as a brother-in-law.” She shook his hand and turned to Jessica. She leaned over the love seat upon which she sat and hugged her. “I am so happy for you, Jessica.”
Jessica’s mother was methodically threading her needle through the cloth stretched over her embroidery frame. She looked up, first at Jessica and then at Gabriel. Both of them were looking back at her. So was Anna. Probably Avery too, though Jessica did not look to see.
“I must trust my stepson’s judgment, Mr. Thorne,” she said at last. “However, I must also have your assurance before I give my blessing that you do not intend to take my daughter back to America to live. Frankly I would find that intolerable. And unforgivable.”
“I have no such intention, ma’am,” he told her. “Circumstances necessitate my living here in England.”
“I am relieved to hear it,” she said. “And why, Mr. Thorne, are you insisting upon a hurried, almost clandestine wedding within the week? My daughter is the only daughter of the late Duke of Netherby. She is the sister of the current duke. It would be more appropriate for her to have a far