Three Little Secrets Read Free Page A

governess, rolling her eyes. “Why, I should like to restrain and confine some of the physicians in Harley Street—and never mind what I would do to the phrenologists.”
    “You—you do not believe them?”
    “Oh, almost never!” said the woman breezily. “And in this case, certainly not. A child of twelve is not sufficiently developed, mentally or physically, for such dire pronouncements. And if he has odd bumps on his head, it is likely from a game of conkers gone awry. Perhaps your son is merely sensitive and artistic?”
    Lady Bessett shook her head. “It is not that,” she said certainly. “Though he is quite a fine artist. He has a great head for mathematics, too, and all things scientific. That is why these—these spells seem so out of character.”
    “He is not a fanciful child, then?”
    “By no means.”
    “He otherwise functions well in the world? He learns? He comprehends?”
    “Geoff’s tutor says he is brilliant.”
    “Has there been any childhood trauma?”
    For an instant, Lady Bessett hesitated. “No, not…not trauma.”
    The governess lifted her eyebrows again, and opened her mouth as if to speak. But just then, a lovely girl with blond hair came twirling through the doorway in what could only be described as a fashionable dinner gown.
    “Mamma, it is finished!” she cried, craning her head over her shoulder to look at her heels. “What do you think? Is the hem right? Does it make my derriere look too—”
    “My dear, we have a guest,” chided the governess—who was, it now appeared, not the governess after all. “This is Lady Bessett. Lady Bessett, my stepdaughter, Lady Ariane Rutledge.”
    The girl was already flushing deeply. “Oh! I do beg your pardon, ma’am!” She curtsied, and excused herself at once.
    “I say!” murmured Lady Bessett, feeling her cheeks grow warm. “Who was—I mean—was that…?”
    “Lord Treyhern’s poor little girl who was so dreadfully ill,” said her hostess. “Yes, that is what I have been trying to tell you, Lady Bessett. We were married, he and I. And Ariane, as you see, is quite a normal young lady now. We have three other children as well, so my work nowadays consists of little more than giving the odd bit of advice to a friend or relation.”
    “Oh.” Lady Bessett’s shoulders fell. “Oh, dear. You are Lady Treyhern now! And I—well, I do not know what I shall do.”
    Her hostess leaned across the distance, and set her hand on Lady Bessett’s. “My dear, you are very young,” she said. “Younger, I think, even than I?”
    “I am thirty,” she whispered. “And I feel as though I am twice that.” Then, to her undying embarrassment, a tear rolled down Lady Bessett’s cheek.
    Lady Treyhern handed her a freshly starched handkerchief. “Thirty is still rather young,” she went on. “You must trust me when I say that children do outgrow such things.”
    “Do you think so?” Lady Bessett sniffled. “I just wish I could be sure. Geoffrey is my life. We have only one another now.”
    “I see,” said Lady Treyhern. “And how long are you in London, my dear?”
    Lady Bessett lifted her sorrowful gaze. “Forever,” she replied. “I am the dowager countess and my stepson is newly wed. Tomorrow I am contracting to purchase a house nearby.”
    “Are you?” Lady Treyhern smiled. “How very exciting.”
    Lady Bessett shrugged. “Our village doctor thought it best for Geoff that we be close to London. He said he had no notion what to do for the boy.”
    Lady Treyhern patted her hand comfortingly. “You must take your time and settle in, my dear,” she advised. “And when you have done so, you must bring young Geoff to tea. We will begin to get acquainted.”
    “You…you will help us, then?”
    “I shall try,” said Lady Treyhern. “His symptoms are indeed mysterious—but I am not at all convinced it is a disorder.”
    “Are you not? Thank God.”
    “Even if it were, my dear, there are a few physicians in London