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He strained his eyes but he couldn’t see if the curtains were drawn across the windows in the front, couldn’t see if there was any black crepe on the knocker.
The chaise made the last turn, pulled up as he almost fell out of the door and began to run at last. The front door opened and there was his mother on the top step, Joanna in her arms. They were both weeping.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Mr Pickford suggested the Small Chinese Drawing Room upstairs, Miss Frost.’ Fredericks, Gray’s butler, took her evening cloak. ‘It is used by the family for intimate dinner parties, rather than the Red Dining Room, which, I venture to say, is somewhat cavernous for fewer than twenty.’
‘Thank you, Fredericks. I certainly would not enjoy an echoing dinner,’ Gaby said, as she followed him across the hall to the sweep of stairs.
‘Quite, Miss Frost. Along here, if you please. I regret it is quite a way, tucked along here at the end past the various suites, but the present earl’s grandmother had it created because it was the only room of the right size to use a fine shipment of Chinese wallpaper.’ He opened the door. ‘Miss Frost, Mr Pickford.’
Henry jumped up from his chair and dropped a book on the side table. ‘Good evening, Miss Frost. May I pour you a glass of sherry? Or do you despise the products of Spain?’
‘Absolutely not. Thank you, Mr Pickford.’ Gaby sank on to the sofa facing the window and looked around. The room had a bay window around which several chairs and the sofa had been arranged and at the back of the room there was a large alcove with a dining table and six chairs. The whole room was papered with a delightful hand-painted design of Chinese scenes.
Henry returned with the wine and they sipped and made conversation about the wallpaper, which was one mass of intricate detail, while footmen arranged a wine cooler and then took up their position against the walls.
It was easy enough to move the conversation on to the port wine trade and what knowledge Henry had managed to glean of commercial conditions in Boston. By the time Fredericks had come back to announce that dinner was served Henry appeared engrossed and Gaby suspected that the footmen were becoming cross-eyed with boredom.
‘We’ll serve ourselves,’ Henry said vaguely. ‘I will ring if we need anything.’
‘Sir.’ The butler bowed himself out and began to pull closed the door.
‘Leave the door, if you please,’ Henry called.
‘Of course, sir.’
With the door open they could see from the table clear down the corridor to the first turning point. ‘This is much better than having it closed. No one can approach,’ Henry said, ladling soup. ‘And we have given the impression of being concerned about appearances.’
Even so, they spoke of innocuous matters while they ate. Henry used the bell at his right hand at the end of every course and the footmen glided in, cleared and re-laid place settings with practised efficiency.
Gaby found she was becoming decidedly restless, waiting to hear what Henry’s idea might be to solve the problem of the father of her child. She eyed the array of desserts set out and helped herself to a cream and pureed chestnut confection that would probably be ruinous to the digestion, but which looked too good to resist.
‘Thank you, that will be all. You may clear later,’ Henry said and they watched the last footman vanish along the passageway. ‘That should have established our innocent intentions for the evening,’ he added as they disappeared. He made rather a business of peeling himself an apple.
‘Henry, if you do not tell me your bright idea soon I am going to sit here and empty this entire bowl out of sheer frustration and then I will be very ill indeed.’ Gaby bit the end off a wafer and pointed the sharp remnant at
him. ‘You have been keeping me in suspense all evening.’
‘I have been trying to find my nerve,’ he admitted ruefully. He put down his knife, pushed back his chair and frowned at Gaby.
‘Henry—’ she threatened.
‘Very well. I am single, unattached, committed to your interest in this and in good health.’ He pressed on doggedly as she stared at him. ‘I am about to leave the country on a journey which might plausibly end in shipwreck. I have no intention of returning to Europe. What about me?’
‘You?’ It came out as a squeak. Henry’s face fell. ‘No, I am sorry. I did not mean you are impossible for any negative reason. But, Henry, we are friends—’
‘I find you extremely attractive,’ he confessed, blushing rather charmingly.
Gaby blinked. He has just asked me if I want him to make love to me, to father my child. He has made it real, a possibility.
Henry’s blush deepened as she stared at him. ‘I foresee no problem with... That is, should you decide...’
‘I hadn’t thought...’ Pull yourself together. We cannot spend the entire evening stammering at each other. ‘It is very—’ Kind? ‘—thoughtful of you, Henry. I had not considered... Not that I do not like you. But, we have been friends and now you propose something so different and I am having trouble thinking straight about it.’
‘I am not suggesting that our emotions might be engaged in any way beyond friendship.’ Henry seemed to have both his composure and his voice under control again, although his colour was high. ‘Perhaps, if we were to kiss? You might be able to judge whether this is something you could take a little further? I realise that as a...er...lady without experience, it might seem daunting.’
‘I am not a virgin,’ Gaby said. ‘An old love affair, he is dead.’
