more interesting for the younger set. Isn’t that so, Lady Whitefield?”
Jess cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t know.”
“If she doesn’t know,” Lady Haighe said pointedly to Noel, “then you didn’t do your job properly.”
“I’m an excellent host,” he answered.
“Beg pardon, Your Grace,” Gregory said as he approached. “Before you return to London, I hoped we could review a few more estate matters in the study.”
“I’ll be there momentarily.” Noel bowed. “Excuse me, my ladies.”
Once they were alone, Lady Haighe studied Jess. “Are you all right, my gel?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Because,” Lady Haighe said, stroking a hand down Jess’s cheek, “you look on the verge of noisy tears. Which seems out of character. Did he hurt you?” Her expression hardened. “If he did, I don’t care if he’s a ruddy duke. I’ll plant my knee in his bollocks.”
“That’s very kind of you.” Jess rubbed her knuckles against her eyes, forcing back the very tears that Lady Haighe had noticed. “There’s no blame for Noel—I mean, His Grace. It’s all my doing.” She could say no more, but the urge to confess everything pushed at her. “He’s a good man. A wonderful man.”
“And you care for him.”
“I do.” This was wonderful and exhilarating and so painful that she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“Have you told him?” Lady Haighe asked.
Jess shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” the older woman demanded. “His affection for you is clear. And you couldn’t be more plain if you wore a sign on your chest and rang a bell in the midday square. So, it’s established. You both adore each other. Nothing else is relevant.”
“Things are exceptionally complicated.” Which was a very mild way of saying that if Noel knew the truth about her, who she was and what her purpose for being at the Bazaar was, everything would collapse in an unsalvageable heap. If she told him everything, if he understood that she had lied to him throughout their time together, her family’s business could be ruined. Yet if she said nothing, what she and Noel had together would be predicated on a lie. Eventually he would find out, bringing her right back to where she started. He’d be furious. Brokenhearted. Rightly so.
If she was honest with him, and if by some miracle he still invested in McGale & McGale, she didn’t know if his feelings for her would be strong enough to continue. Could he care enough for her to see past her deception, and past his anger that was sure to come?
She was strapped into an iron maiden, waiting for the spiked door to shut.
“Child.” Lady Haighe took Jess’s chin between her thumb and forefinger in a grip that was astonishingly strong. “We’ve one certainty in life. Death comes for all of us. It doesn’t care who we are or what good or evil we’ve brought to the world. We all turn to dust.”
“That’s rather grim.”
“It is. Which is why I’m telling you that when you have a chance at something as rare as love, you take that chance.” Lady Haighe smiled sadly. “I found love, but because I was a scared girl, and because his skin was the wrong color for my family, I took the safe chance and married someone else, but the one who’d captured my heart . . .” The widow sighed. “He walked away. Found himself a lovely wife and they’ve gone on to have a beautiful family.”
Lady Haighe released her hold on Jess to wipe at the sheen gathered in her eyes. “He found love and happiness again. And I’ve led a good life, but it’s been one without him. So listen to me, and listen well. You and His Grace have forged a rare bond. Don’t smash it apart because you were too afraid.”
Jess swallowed as gratitude swelled, though she still didn’t know what she ought to do. “Thank you.”
The widow raised an imperious brow. “And if you ever tell anyone I was tenderhearted toward you, I will deny it vehemently. I’ve a reputation to uphold.”
“Naturally.”
Lady Haighe glanced out the window beside the front door. She clicked her tongue. “Are they still loading the bloody carriages? How dull country life is.” The widow opened the door and strode out. “Are we leaving or do we plan on growing roots in the Hampshire soil?”
Jess turned a slow circle as she stood alone in the foyer. She took in all the details of this room in Carriford, from its wooden paneled walls to the parquet floor, to the portraits of