"He ran outside," Gabrielle said, turning back to the hall. "He seemed distraught. What have you said to him?"
The accusatory note in her voice was clear for both of them to hear, and Nathaniel's scowl deepened. A man appeared in the doorway behind him, a thin man with a lorgnette and lank, greasy hair, wearing dusty topboots and a morning coat of olive drab that had clearly seen better days.
"He'll become accustomed to the idea, Lord Praed," the man said with an unctuous smile.
Gabrielle took an instant and limitless dislike to the stranger. She stared at him with undisguised hauteur and raised an inquiring eyebrow at Nathaniel.
Nathaniel looked slightly and most unusually discomfited. "I beg your pardon, countess," he said stiffly. "Mr. Jeffrys is to be Jake's tutor. He comes most highly recommended."
"How comforting," Gabrielle said. "When did you arrive, Mr. Jefffys?"
"This morning, my lady." The tutor-to-be inclined his angular frame from the waist in an inelegant and unpracticed bow. "Lord Praed's request for a recommendation for a tutor reached Harrow on Monday, and I came immediately. I am always the master's first choice when such requests are made. I pride myself on being able to prepare the sons of the nobility for entrance into our hallowed portals." His obsequious smile revealed yellow teeth.
Like moldering tombstones, Gabrielle thought. "How gratifying for you, Mr. Jefffys," she said. "I trust you're well qualified to prepare mere babes for the rigors of such an establishment. They must perforce learn to withstand the severity and privations of such a life."
Mr. Jeffrys looked at her uneasily. What she'd said was nothing but the truth, of course. It was what he did best. But something about her tone and manner confused him. He tried another smile. "I pride myself on my successes, my lady… some of the noblest families in the land…" The smile hung in the air, as if it couldn't find a home.
"If you'll excuse us, countess. We have some further business to discuss," Nathaniel said frigidly. He turned back to the library. "Jefffys…"
"Oh, yes, my lord… the details… of course, my lord."
And where the hell did Primmy fit into all this? Gabrielle thought furiously. Nathaniel had said nothing about the progress of his plans for a tutor, not to Gabrielle and she presumed not to Primmy, who treated her as a confidante and would most certainly have told her. Indeed, the governess had been cherishing hopes that his lordship had changed his mind, since he'd never mentioned the matter again. And now this. Jake presented to his new mentor without preparation, and Miss Primmer out on her ear.
"Just one minute, my lord." She put out an imperative hand. "I'd like a private word. I'm sure Mr. Jefffys will excuse us." She turned toward the dining room without waiting for a response from Nathaniel, who hesitated for a second before waving the tutor curtly back to the library and following her.
He slammed the door behind him. "Well?"
Gabrielle was trembling with rage. What did the man have for empathy and insight? Cloth, presumably. As dark and impenetrable a material as could be found.
"Forgive me if I'm mistaken," she said in tones of icy incredulity, "but did you just spring that-that… odious creepy creature on Jake? Of course you didn't! Of course you explained what was going to happen a long time ago, didn't you? It's just that he hasn't mentioned it to me. But children do have short memories and-"
"Hold your tongue!" Nathaniel ordered with low-voiced ferocity, a dull flush spreading to his forehead. "This is no concern of yours, as I've told you a dozen times. Jake is my sonand how I handle him is my business."
"So you just summon him one morning, inform him that that odious man is going to rule his life from now until he's sent away to school, and that Primmy is going. Oh, when is she to leave, by the way? Is she packing her bags now?"
"Don't talk to me in this fashion-"
"I'll talk to you any way I like, Lord Praed," she interrupted, her pale complexion now whiter than milk, her eyes dark pools of molten lava, the skin around her mouth blue-tinged with fury. "Of all the crass-"
"Stop this at once!" Beside himself, he seized her upper arms and in unthinking reaction Gabrielle swung her flat palm against his cheek. The ugly crack hung for the barest instant in the air before it was repeated and Gabrielle spun away from him, her hand pressed to her own flaming cheek.
There was a terrible silence. She gazed sightlessly out the window, tears as much of shock as pain filming her eyes.
Nathaniel drew a deep shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."
"So am I," she said, her voice shaking. "How ugly… I don't know how it happened."
"I think we have to learn to be very careful," Nathaniel said wearily.
"Yes," Gabrielle agreed. She still couldn't turn to look at him, and he made no move toward her.
The silence elongated, grew leaden, and then Nathaniel turned and left the dining room, closing the door quietly behind him.
The raw violence of the encounter left Gabrielle feeling drained and sick. She sat down at the table, resting her still-stinging cheek on her palm, and waited until the shock had dissipated somewhat and she could think clearly.
Nathaniel was wrong-headed in his dealings with Jake. But that didn't give her the right to speak to him as she had. She could have said the same things reasonably, without hurling insults and sarcasm at him. A few days ago she'd thought she'd been making some headway, but matters between father and son seemed to have reverted to the old bad ways, and somehow she'd lost the patience for subtle teaching by example.
Perhaps it wasn't the patience she'd lost but Nathaniel's attention. Since he'd agreed to employ her in the network, his attitude had changed toward her. They spent hours in his office constructing a code she would use to pass on her intelligence, and she had to pretend the incompetence of a tyro while her mind leaped three steps ahead of his painstaking tutorial. They studied maps of Europe and discussed the kind of intelligence that the English spymaster would find invaluable, and she offered suggestions as to how she could acquire it.
They made love every night with the same wild passion and slept until morning in each other's arms, but a different dimension had entered their relationship. The natural equality had vanished. Nathaniel was instructor, director, employer. He wasn't cold in these roles, but he was businesslike and distant and Gabrielle followed his lead because it was what she was there to do.
But all the rational thought in the world didn't diminish the sense of loss over the days when they'd sparred and loved as if nothing else could ever concern them.
And how on earth were they to recover from that vile encounter?
A cloud of depression settled over her as she stood up and left the dining room to go in search of Jake.
She ran the child to earth behind the boathouse. He was huddled on the narrow jetty, shoulders hunched, chin pressed into his chest.
Gabrielle dropped a coat around his shoulders and sat down beside him, drawing him into the curve of her arm. He snuffled and swallowed a sob.
"I want Primmy. I don't want her to go away."
Gabrielle let him cry, offering soothing murmurs and the warm comfort of her body until he'd exhausted his tears. Then she tried to explain why his father had decided this was best for him. It was hard to be convincing when she was so far from convinced herself. But Nathaniel was such a distant authoritarian figure in the child's life that she felt she could at least impress upon Jake that his father had only his best interests at heart. And she did believe that. Nathaniel simply didn't know what those best interests were.