For Her Love by Paula Reed Page A

figure that out. She spoke to Matu, who had come down the stairs behind her. The breathless quality of her own voice irritated her. “Well, we shall have to make sure that we extend the very best hospitality. Matu, will you bring us some refreshment?”
    The maid nodded and slipped out the back to the kitchen.
    “Matu?” Giles asked. “That’s your maid’s name?”
    “Aye,” Grace answered.
    “Your father mentioned her when last I was here, but I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t realize it was a name.”
    “Matu was kidnapped from Africa—”
    “Brought,” Edmund corrected. “She was brought here from Africa when she was young. My wife’s father owned her first. She was a field hand for him, but she had such a way with the little slave children that we made her Grace’s nursemaid. The two are inseparable.”
    “I see,” Giles commented. So this was the source of Grace’s aversion to slavery. She had bonded to her nurse and come to love her. One mystery solved.
    Later that afternoon, over tea, he came to understand why she had bonded with her nurse rather than her mother.
    Mistress Welbourne was also an attractive woman, but in no way did her daughter favor her in looks. The mother’s face was chiseled into high cheekbones, a sharp nose, and a small mouth. Her hair was deep brown, sleek and glossy, and her eyes were the color of strong tea. Her skin was porcelain-white and flawless. It was obvious that she took great care to keep it so. But for all her beauty, there was absolutely no warmth. She might have been made of porcelain indeed.
    Edmund smiled broadly at his wife, though the expression struck Giles as more of a grimace, and informed her that their guest would be staying for a week or so.
    Mistress Welbourne’s lips formed a tight smile, and when she spoke, the smile was marred by the mottled teeth behind it. “How delightful. You and Edmund must be hammering out the details for a rather extensive business agreement.”
    Giles smiled back with genuine warmth. “I must confess, my visit is more social than commerce.” He let his gaze fall on Grace.
    There was a subtle strangeness to both their reactions, the same mysterious tension he had sensed on his last visit when he had mentioned Mistress Welbourne. Grace lifted her chin in a manner that suggested some slight defiance. Mistress Welbourne’s tight smile tightened even more, and though it hardly seemed possible, her eyes became slightly colder.
    “I see,” Mistress Welbourne commented. The brief silence that followed was strained, and Giles thought of the stillness in the air just before hurricane clouds appeared on the horizon.
    “Grace,” Edmund said, and his voice seemed to shatter the air like glass. “Perhaps Captain Courtney would enjoy a walk along the river.” He turned to Giles. “We’ve some lovely falls, nothing too tall and spectacular, but lovely nonetheless, and a mineral spring the most amazing shade of blue-green.”
    “Of course,” Grace replied, though she wished she could stay close enough to hear her father upbraid Iolanthe. She rose and walked to the back door, gesturing for Captain Courtney to follow. Then she frowned slightly at Matu who was gathering up the tea things. “Are you coming, Matu?”
    Matu straightened up and made a huffy squeak. It was a sound Grace knew well. Matu made that sound whenever Grace suggested something absurd, like doing Iolanthe some devilish mischief. The maid set her hands on her hips and shook her head, like Grace was nothing more than a naughty child, then waved the two of them off.
    Grace’s hand felt like it was glued to the door latch. Walk alone with this man? If they were to see both the falls and the spring, they would be walking for three-quarters of an hour or more. Alone. Together.
    “Oh. Well.” Her eyes shifted from Giles to her father to Matu and back again. “If it wouldn’t be too improper. That is—the two of us walking for so long without a