“She will?” Gideon said, before he had quite managed to calculate this into the arrangement.
“Of course. We shall have to speak to Mrs. Strom.” He grinned. “She will be most put out. But she will accommodate it, naturally.”
They left Ruby temporarily in the stable and made their way back to the house. The entire walk she kept her hand on his arm, which he had offered once more. They came through the front door and stood for a moment in the entrance hall when a commotion at the far end drew their attention — two footmen coming around the corner carrying the great portrait of his great-grandfather, ready to be hung in its new place of honour.
“The first step in our renovations,” she said, looking up at it.
“Before long the whole house will be exactly as we want it,” he said. “A real home.”
“A real home,” she agreed.
“The new painting to replace the tapestry has arrived as well, Your Grace,” one of the footmen said.
He glanced at her. “Shall we go and look?”
“Yes,” she said. “I am curious to see what you have chosen.”
They walked through to the portrait gallery together, where the new painting was leaning against the wall, still partially covered. He moved forward and lifted the covering away, watching her face.
She blinked. Then broke into a wide, unguarded smile.
“Daisies,” she said.
“A local artist in the village made it. Remarkably talented you fellow. I told him what I wanted and he painted it in a matter of days.”
She went forward and stood before it — a field of daisies, rendered in careful, sunny detail. “He must have worked with great haste.”
“I paid him handsomely. He deserved every penny.”
She turned to him, and there was something in her eyes that he had not seen for some time — something open and warm and unguarded. To his considerable astonishment, she raised her hand and placed it against his cheek. He did not stop himself. He covered her hand with his own and leaned his forehead down toward hers, and his lips grazed hers, only just, only for a moment, before Heathcliff’s heavy footfall announced itself in the corridor. He knew that particular tread anywhere. The man was tall and not in the least delicate, and his footsteps gave ample warning.
He drew back slightly. “We are about to be interrupted.”
“I rather think so,” she said, and took a small step back.
The knock came almost immediately.
“Come,” Gideon called.
Heathcliff entered. “A caller, Your Grace — for the Duchess.”
Helena looked up, surprise evident on her face. “A caller? For me?”
“Shall I come with you?” Gideon asked but she shook her head.
“No, there is no need. It will be the vicar’s wife. She said she would come. Or perhaps it is Mrs. Baker, come to tell me I have won the contest, so I can then tell you in a moment of triumph.”
Gideon let out a laugh and watched her walk away, the smile remaining on his lips.
CHAPTER 29
HELENA
She followed Heathcliff into the hall with her chin level and her hands folded, curios as to who might have come calling. The vicar’s wife had told her she’d come calling, but not when. And she’d only told her the previous day, indicating she’d see her in a few days.
“I have shown the gentleman to the drawing room, Your Grace. Shall I send for tea?”
She stopped short. “The gentleman?” she said. She had not known the caller was male. “Who is it? Did they not announce themselves?”
