The Hidden Heart. Candace Camp

had long suspected that he was behind some of the bonuses and gifts that she had received from her customers over the years. Jessica had seized on the offer of a position with joyful relief, and she had never regretted her decision.

      Her time here had been happy. She soon grew to love her charge, and as she stayed, she took on more and more of the running of the household. The servants relied on her for advice and orders, quick to realize her competence, and the General was happy to turn such “women’s things” over to her. She enjoyed her life here, and it seemed almost as if General Streathern and Gabriela were her family. She did not think she could have been more concerned for the old man or happier that he was coming out of his illness if he had been her own grandfather.

      After another day of convalescence, the General informed his valet that he did not need a “damned nursemaid sitting up and staring at me all night,” and ordered him to go to bed and end his nightly watch. The following morning he sent Humphrey to Jessica with the request that she come to his room. She left Gabriela with a paper to write and went to see the General, wondering what he wanted. Knowing the General, it could be anything from an accounting of the household budget to a game of chess to alleviate his boredom.

      In this instance it was neither. General Streathern was sitting up in his bed, looking much stronger than he had the day before. He smiled when he saw Jessica, and she noted that the expression still did not reach the left side of his face. His left arm, too, was held across his lap and did not move much as he talked. But his color was much better and his gaze was alert, and when he spoke he sounded much like his old self.

      “Well, girl, had you given me up for dead, too?” he barked.

      “I was very worried,” Jessica admitted.

      “Doubter.”

      “You had been unconscious for a week, General,” Jessica pointed out. She had grown up speaking her mind, for it was the way her father had trained her, and she had been greatly relieved to find that the General was the same sort of man.

      The old man chuckled. “I can always count on you to tell me the truth, Jess.” He patted his bed. “Come, sit down where I can see you without having to break my neck.”

      Jessica went forward and sat down on the edge of his bed, facing him. “I am very glad to see that I was mistaken.”

      “I am, too, my girl.” General Streathern let out a sigh. “I have to tell you, I gave myself a scare. I wouldn’t let on to that old sawbones, of course, but I know I had a close brush with death. I can feel it.” He patted his left arm. “Haven’t got full movement here, you know.” He shook his head. “It’s a frightening thing, your brain attacking you.”

      “I imagine it is. But you are better now. And perhaps your arm will grow stronger.”

      “I hope so. It’s damned irritating. Not as irritating as waking up and finding that scoundrel Vesey in my room, though. Don’t know how my sister could have produced a grandchild like that. Nothing wrong with her daughter—course, the Vesey line has always had bad blood. I told Gertie that no good would come of it, but it was out of her hands. Her son-in-law always did have batting for brains.”

      “I am sorry they were here.”

      “Not your fault. But I told Pierson not to let them back in. Now that he has my orders, he’ll keep them out. And if he does go all weak, you remind him of what I said.”

      “I will.”

      “Gave me a turn, seeing Vesey.” The General fell silent for a moment, looking down at his hands. He was not one to speak of personal feelings, a military man to the bone. “It made me think. I could die. I am seventy-two years old. I’ve had more than my time on earth. I guess I always thought I could somehow fight it off. But it was sheer luck this time. When I read that letter, saw that Millicent had died…”

      “I am sure it was a shock to learn of your friend’s death.”

      “It was indeed.” Sadness fell over the old man’s features. “I loved her, you see.”

      “Of course.”

      “No. I mean, really loved her. Loved her for almost fifty years.”

      Jessica, startled, looked keenly at the General. There was a softness in his eyes that she had rarely seen there.

      “She was married to another man. Not a bad fellow. I knew him. I met her at a party Lady Abernethy gave. I was thirty-four at the time. I hadn’t married. I had been too busy with my career for things like that. After I saw Millicent, I knew I never would. Terrible thing to live with, knowing that you would be ecstatic if a good man died. Course, he did, many years later. But by that time, we had gotten old. Grown into the way of being friends, settled in our own lives and neither of us too eager to give that up. It was enough for us the last few years just to see each other now and then, and to maintain our correspondence. I would have done anything for her, though.”

      He sat lost in reverie. Jessica remained silent, too, trying to absorb this new picture of the crusty old military man as a devoted swain, loving a woman he could not have.

      “Ah, well.” The General seemed to shake off his thoughts. “That’s not what I called you here about. Not directly, anyway. The thing is, when I read those lines, there was a terrific pain in my head, and then the next thing I knew I was waking up here with that silly cow Leona blubbering all over me. Now I realize how presumptuous I was all these years, thinking I could fight off death, as if it were an enemy soldier. I couldn’t do a thing. I was just lucky to come back. Next time, I might not be so fortunate.”

      Jessica did not know what to say. The General was right, and it was hard to say something optimistic in response.

      “Seventy-two. Some would say it’s about time I figured out I wasn’t invincible.” The General let out a little chuckle. “Thing is, what about Gaby? Oh, I’ve provided for her in my will, no worry about that. And her father left her a nice trust. She will have plenty of money. But she needs more than that. She needs someone who loves her.”

      “I will stay with her, General. I promise. You know how much I care for her.”

      The General smiled at her, and it touched Jessica’s heart with sorrow to see how one side of his mouth did not curl up with the other. “I knew I could count on you. But I wanted to make sure you understood what to do if anything should happen to me. I have provided for a guardian in my will. It’s the same man that her father named as successor should anything happen to me. I don’t know him well, but he was a friend of her father’s and reputed to be an honorable sort. He will look after her money and her welfare. I just wrote him a letter. There…”

      He gestured toward the small table beside his bed, on which lay a letter, closed by a blob of red wax bearing the General’s seal. “Take it. I want you to escort Gaby to his home if anything further should happen to me. Give him this letter, as well as the will. In it, I’ve asked him to keep you on. I told him that Gaby relies on you and trusts you.”

      “I will. Don’t worry. But let us hope that there will be no need for it. You will recover and live long past Gaby’s marriage, I’m sure.”

      “I hope so. But I haven’t said all I want to say. Once Gaby is with her new guardian, I won’t worry. He is a powerful, influential man—the Duke of Cleybourne. Vesey would be able to do nothing to him. But until then…I fear Vesey.”

      “Lord Vesey? But surely, if you name someone else her guardian, that will put a stop to any danger from him.”

      “I would count on nothing when it comes to that man.” General Streathern’s lip curled. “He is vile, and his wife is no better. I would not trust him not to seize Gaby if he has the opportunity. I left the man nothing, and he would love to get his hands on Gaby’s money. And that witch of a wife of his is able to twist honest men around her finger. I don’t trust the pair of them.” He frowned, then went on slowly. “I would not otherwise sully your ears with such a tale, but you must know the full extent of his wickedness. The man is a lecher, and I have heard that he