“The little tyke! Good morning there, young man. I’m Mrs. Whitby. And what is your name?”
Gilbert looked to Maria, remembering his lessons on etiquette and politeness. He gave a formal bow, and Maria’s face warmed with pride.
“My name is Gilbert. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Whitby,” he said.
Mrs. Whitby ruffled his hair fondly.
“And it is nice to meet you, too, Gilbert. Nice to have a child in the house again.”
She leaned closer and whispered in a faux-conspiratorial tone. “Just you make sure you don’t listen when anyone tells you that children should be seen but not heard.”
Maria laughed, but it faded as she heard the heavy footsteps approaching from above. She swallowed. Damien could not possibly object to Gilbert being here, as he had agreed to the visit. But Maria remembered his coolness when she brought the subject up. Gilbert picked up on her tension, running to her as the footsteps reached the bend in the stairs.
But then—this man was the same one who had saved the orphanage for her. How could she make sense of a man who seemed as though he could not decide whether to be kind or cruel?
He hid behind her skirts when Damien appeared. Mrs. Whitby made her excuses and left. Damien descended the stairs.
“Your Grace, I would like to introduce you to Gilbert. Gilbert, come out and greet His Grace, the Duke of Winterleigh,” Maria said.
Damien approached, and Gilbert cowered, seemingly hesitant to emerge from behind Maria’s skirts. Then, Damien put out his hand.
“It is customary for two knights, when meeting, to show each other an empty right hand. To show that they do not hold a weapon,” Damien said.
Gilbert peeked out at the mention of knights. Maria wondered if Damien had been standing on the staircase listening as they had come into the house.
“But, Maria said that you’re not a knight.”
Damien nodded, and his stern expression seemed to soften just the smallest amount. “I do not hold the title of knight, but that does not mean that I do not hold the knightly virtues in my heart. As all men should.”
Gilbert peeked out a little more. “What’s a virtue?” he stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
“A virtue is a good and noble quality. Like being kind,” Maria said.
“A knight must have honor, be willing to defend the defenseless and, above all, have courage,” Damien said, still offering his hand.
Gilbert emerged all the way and put out his own hand. Damien inspected it as though checking there was no sword there, then he clasped Gilbert’s hand in his own.
“Well met, good knight,” Damien said.
Gilbert shied away after Damien released his hand. His eyes were drawn to the mask, and he pointed with a finger that trembled.
“What’s that?” he asked of Maria.
“It is rude to point, Gilbert,” Maria said as she saw a closed-off, cold look on Damien’s face.
“Oh,” Gilbert said.
“Perhaps you could join Gilbert and me on a tour of your house?” Maria suggested with a smile.
“I think I have done quite enough,” Damien replied.
Maria wanted to sigh, feeling another failed attempt to break through his walls. But she steeled herself and tried to force away the tide of disappointment that rose inside her.
I must take my victories where I can find them. He came to see Gilbert and showed an interest in him. That is a victory.
She thought back to the flat refusal to allow Gilbert into the house when they had first negotiated the terms of their convenient marriage. In comparison, this was as night is today.
“Very well. Gilbert and I will look at the house ourselves. And then, I will entertain him in the gardens until it is time for himto go back to the orphanage,” Maria said. “Oh, and both Gilbert and I have something we wish to say to you.”