brushing off the dirt stains and grass from her gown. She was no servant’s child.
Her voice was well-bred, free of the heavy Yorkshire burr, and her clothes were
of excellent style and quality. Her gown was a soft yellow, the sleeves and
neckline stitched with fine lace.
I said nothing more, just waited.
Finally, she said, “My mama went to Heaven when I was born.”
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t look away from that beautiful little face, a very open
face. What the devil was going on here?
“It’s all right. I don’t remember her. I was just born and don’t have any memory
of what she was like at all.”
“Who is your papa?”
This time Judith looked at me like I was a complete half-wit. “He’s the Earl of
Devbridge.”
I nearly fell off the bench.
Was she my husband’s love child? His wife had been dead for many more years than
Judith had been on this earth.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” she said now in a very precise soft voice, “but how
can you be the Countess of Devbridge? You’re nearly as young as I am. I heard
Papa telling Miss Gillbank last night that you were here, but I hadn’t expected
you to be so very young. I guess I thought you’d be more like Papa, but you’re
younger than my cousins, Thomas and John. You’re younger than Amelia.”
What to say to that? How to ask a little girl if she was a bastard? I gave it a
diplomatic try. “Judith, who exactly was your mama?”
“She was Papa’s wife, of course.”
Well, that answered that. I was so stunned that I just sat there watching George
as he went to sniff at his sixth bush. He still hadn’t decided where to relieve
himself. He was a very particular dog, was George.
Why hadn’t my husband considered it important enough to tell me that I was his
third wife, that there had been a second Countess of Devbridge? Two dead wives,
I thought.
“Miss Gillbank says that my papa loved my mama more than he ever loved any other
lady. I suppose that must include you, too, Andy, which is too bad. But you’re
very young, so it can’t matter all that much, can it?”
I must have nodded or something, because she soon continued, “But I don’t
understand. Why would Papa marry you if he still loves my mama so much? You’re
even younger than Miss Gillbank.”
“Your papa married me because I own George, and he adores George. Don’t you?
Just look at him, sniffing at every bush in the garden before making his
selection. Shall we wager on which bush he finally picks?”
“He’ll pick the rhododendron,” Judith said, no hesitation at all. “I have a
shilling. That’s my wager.”
I was thinking more along the line of wagering an apple or an orange. But there
was her small hand, sticking out toward me.
“I’ll take it,” I said, and shook her hand. We sat there in rapt silence
watching George sniff his way around the garden until he stopped at the only
rhododendron bush, and raised his leg.
I sighed. “How did you ever guess he would pick that rhododendron? If there were
a dozen of them, it would make sense because you would be playing what is called
the odds. But there is only one rhododendron bush in this entire garden.”
At that moment we heard a woman’s voice calling, “Judith? Where are you, child?
It’s time for your geography lesson. Oh, goodness, who is that ugly little dog
wetting the rhododendron?”
Chapter Twelve
“He isn’t ugly,” I said, nearly going en point to defend George to the death.
Facing me was a young woman, slender, quietly pretty with dark brown hair and
rich deep brown eyes. She was dressed neatly in a pale blue wool gown. She was
perhaps twenty-five, no older. She had a pointy chin that, surprisingly, was
really quite attractive.
She gave me a charming curtsy. “My lady.”
“Miss Gillbank, I just won a shilling from Andy.”
It appeared that Miss Gillbank knew all about me.
Unlike Judith, she wasn’t at all surprised that I was just over the edge of my