Page 42 of The Hidden Heart

“Walking? In weather like this?”

“Just around the house. I had promised Gabriela we would go out into the snow for a little while after her lessons.”

“For God’s sake, why?”

“Because it is fun!” Jessica retorted. “You do remember that concept, don’t you?”

“Yes, I remember it. I just did not connect it with getting your feet soaked and cold, and breathing in freezing air.”

Jessica opened her mouth to reply, then stopped, suddenly remembering something. “Cleybourne!”

“What?” He looked at her intently, his attention caught by the sudden note of fear in her voice. Neither of them noticed that she had addressed him as an equal, not a servant.

“What about Lady Westhampton?” Jessica asked with rising alarm. “Isn’t the road north from here just as likely to be blocked?”

“Yes. I suppose it is.” Worry flickered in his eyes. “Then why hasn’t she arrived back here, too?”

“What if her carriage has gone off the road like the one Lord Vesey saw? Or broken a wheel or something? She could be stranded in the cold.”

“I’ll find her,” Richard said shortly and turned, calling, “Duncan! Baxter!”

Another footman hurried in at the bellow. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Send round to the stables. I need my horse saddled. And I’d better have one of the grooms saddle up, too. I may need his help. I shall change into my riding boots and I’ll be right there.”

He turned back to Jessica. “Will you—”

“I will see to everything here, “Jessica assured him. “I’ll have her room made up again and the bed warmed. Everything.”

He nodded and trotted up the stairs.

Gabriela turned to Jessica with wide, frightened eyes. “Do you really think she is in danger?”

Jessica gave her a reassuring smile. “I imagine she would be more cold than anything else. The carriage wouldn’t have been going very fast in this weather, so even if it slid off into a ditch, it wouldn’t have harmed Lady Westhampton. And they had a carriage rug and were dressed warmly. I’m sure they will be fine, and the duke will reach them soon.”

Inside, she did not feel as sanguine as the words she had expressed. If the roads were as bad as Vesey had said—and however little she trusted him, he had seemed genuinely upset—then there were many opportunities for a carriage to have an accident or get hopelessly bogged down in the snow. And even though Lady Westhampton was warmly dressed and had a carriage rug, it would get very cold, especially after the sun set. What was really worrisome was the possibility that she might have gone quite some distance before anything happened, in which case it might be too far for Cleybourne to find her.

Jessica knew, too, that the possibility of her having a carriage accident must weigh heavily on Cleybourne’s mind, given the tragedy that had befallen him four years ago in just such an accident at this time of year.

She was also worried about Cleybourne’s safety. He was apparently planning to ride, which would make him much more mobile and faster, but it would also expose him fully to the elements. And how easy it would be for his horse to stumble and fall—perhaps step into a hole hidden by the snow, as Gabriela had been talking about! Then he would be out in the elements on foot, an even more dangerous proposition. It was some reassurance that at least he was taking a groom with him.

With those thoughts preying on her mind, Jessica went to the housekeeper to apprise her of the events of the past few minutes and to tell her to set the maids to warming a bed for Lady Westhampton and the cook to have a pot of hot soup ready.

She accomplished this task quickly enough and also said a few soothing things to the servants about the return of the dreaded Lady Vesey. She then went back to the Great Hall, where she met Baxter, who was looking pale and suddenly older than he usually did.

“It’s a terrible thing, miss,” he told her, shaking his head. “He’s gone out after her, looking like Death was riding on his shoulders. I know he’s thinking about the duchess and the little one. So am I. In two days it is the anniversary of her death. And this is so like it.”

“But it isn’t the same. There is nothing to say that the consequences will be the same,” Jessica reassured him. “You must be strong for the duke’s sake. He will need you when he comes back. You are who keeps the household running.”

Baxter gave her a wan smile. “Thank you, miss, for saying so. You are—”

They were interrupted by a sudden banging on the knocker of the front door, so loud and unexpected that both Jessica and the butler flinched. Baxter hurried to the door, worried, and Jessica trailed after him.

On their doorstep stood two men, one thin and small with a nervous manner, and the other a sturdy soul dressed warmly but not stylishly in an old greatcoat, boots and gloves, a cap pulled low on his head and a woolen scarf wrapped around his neck and the lower part of his face.

“Good day to ye, sir,” the sturdy one said, giving a tug of his cap. “I’m from the mail coach. Seems we’ve had an accident and overturned—couple of fine gennelmen in a carriage taking up more than their share of the road, that’s wot it was, and we started to slide, and well, next thing you know, we’re on our side, like, and their carriage is off in the ditch.”

“Oh, my!” Baxter said, looking even frailer than he had a moment before. “What a terrible thing. Well, His Grace is not at home. I—uh—”