Grace (17 page)

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Authors: Deneane Clark

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Grace
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“I would have preferred a chance to enjoy myself last night,” she snapped, unable to contain her resentment with even a facade of civility. “By deserting me as soon as we arrived, you made it appear as though escorting me were some sort of repugnant chore an older brother was required to perform. And, as if that weren’t enough, you then
made it your sworn duty to descend upon me like a hungry hawk and frighten off every man who so much as
looked
at me. In the meantime,
you
had Lady Maria Monfort hanging off your arm, her vulgarly displayed bosoms nearly falling out of her bodice as she flirted outrageously with you, just as if her seventy-year-old husband weren’t propped up with his cane in some dim corner of that very room.” She took a deep breath, prepared to continue her angry tirade, then realized she had nothing left to say. She closed her mouth with a snap, then sat staring resolutely forward as though fascinated by the ears of the horses, her hands folded properly in her lap.

“I did not desert you,” Trevor pointed out in a reasonable voice. He glanced sideways at her flawless profile, and had to bite back a shout of laughter at her prim pose. “I had no idea that you were so jealous, my dear.”

“Jealous!” she cut in indignantly. She felt her pulse begin to pound with a fresh surge of fury.

“Had I known you were jealous,” he repeated, as though she had not spoken, “I suppose I would have paid you a bit more attention.”

“I was
not
jealous,” she protested hotly. “I simply don’t like being made to look a fool.” Belatedly, Grace remembered that she had attempted to do that very thing to him at Almack’s. She lapsed into a guilty, uncomfortable silence. Self-consciously she looked away, nodding and smiling occasionally as they passed acquaintances and friends who also drove or walked in the park. As they plodded along, her ire began to slowly subside.

Several minutes passed before she spoke again. “You have a splendid team, my lord,” she said quietly, nodding toward the grays. “And you handle them beautifully.”

Trevor accepted the offered truce, noting the sincerity in her voice and the genuine admiration in her eyes. “My lady, would you care to try your hand at driving them?”

Grace looked at him in disbelief, eagerness evident in her shining eyes. She cheerfully disregarded his possessive address, her gloved hands already reaching for the proffered reins. “May I really?” she asked, looking for all the world like a child offered a brand-new toy.

Trevor smiled at her unabashed happiness and handed her the reins. He considered his carefully laid plans for her seduction and chuckled to himself at the simple pleasure she found in this small gesture. Had he but known . . .

She handled the horses expertly, he noticed with pride, guiding them with a firm, gentle touch. Trevor watched in amazement as the horses sensed the new hand on the leads, stretched their necks out, then began to almost prance down the cobbled street.

Grace’s lips curved in a smile of unrestrained joy. “Animals know when you love them,” she said in a confiding voice. She glanced sideways at the earl, who looked at her in the alert way that always made her spine tingle.

“Do they, now?” The husky note in his voice made Grace look away hastily.

Trevor smiled to himself and decided to change the subject. “You won’t have to abide my presence for long tonight. I’ll have to leave the entertainment a bit early for a prior engagement later in the evening. I hope I may prevail upon your aunt to escort you home.”

Grace felt a sense of relief at the new topic of conversation, oddly accompanied by a small thread of wistfulness she could not quite explain. “You don’t have to feel obligated to escort me somewhere every night, Lord Caldwell.”

In truth, he hadn’t intended upon an evening out at all, but he wasn’t about to give Grace a night off from their arrangement. “It’s not a difficulty for me to do both. I am simply having some friends in for cards.”

“Cards,” she said. An odd regret was washing through her.

“Yes,” he said, then added politely, “Do you play?”

“My sisters and I have occasionally played for fun, but not for stakes,” she answered.

Trevor smiled. “Are you a good player?”

“I think I play well enough. Mercy was the one we had to watch out for. She often cheated, you know.” Grace laughed. And then she had a scandalous, wonderful idea. She turned impish eyes on him. “Perhaps I could join you?”

He shook his head, astonished that she would even propose such a thing. Her next words drew him up short.

“I could come in disguise.”

He suddenly pictured her in a comically large mustache, her hair tucked up in a hat, half her face obscured behind the high starched points of a dandified collar. An unbidden smile came to his lips, a smile Grace noted immediately. Wisely she kept silent and allowed his thoughts to persuade him. It didn’t take long.

“I suppose you could be my cousin visiting from Cornwall, come to London to acquire some town polish,” he said. He still looked dubious.

She slowed the horses, then brought them to a smooth halt in front of her aunt’s town house. “Who will be there?” she asked.

“Just two others. A possible third later on.” He considered the damage such an adventure could do to her reputation. “I assure you each of these men can be trusted. Not that I have any doubt in your ability to pull it off.” He shook his head and his tone turned wary. “Come now, Grace, you must admit this is a bad idea.” He reached for the reins.

Grace sighed theatrically. “All right, my lord. I understand. You haven’t the stomach for it.”

The gently thrown challenge floated between them. Trevor hesitated only a second before grasping it with both hands. When he looked at her again, Grace knew that she had won. She smiled happily and asked, “How will we manage it?”

“Leave it to me. I’ll make all the arrangements and tell you of my plan when I see you at the ball tonight.” He touched his hat as a footman assisted her descent, then watched as she went slowly up the steps and into the house. He began whistling cheerfully as he flicked the reins and drove away down Curzon Street.

The hidden watcher cursed in frustrated fury. The usurper appeared every day now, and spent more and more time with his love. Eyes lifted again to her window, he decided it would have to be tonight. He was running out of time to rescue her. He would go in tonight, and he would take her home, to where she belonged.

With him.

C
hapter
T
hirteen

G
race did her best to appear as though she were not looking for anybody in particular as she searched the milling crowd in the Havershims’ ballroom. Clutching Faith’s arm, she stood on tiptoe in a vain attempt to see over the heads of those surrounding her, then sighed in exasperation and turned to her sister. “Faith, you’re taller than I am. Do you happen to see Huntwick anywhere?”

Faith looked down at her elder sister with cool appraisal. “Why? Are you still trying to avoid him?” she asked.

Grace averted her head from her sister’s probing gaze, grimacing at Faith’s usual excellent perception. “I suppose I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” she said, hoping they could simply let the matter drop. A futile hope.

“Why do you wish to know where he is? He can’t bother you here.” Faith pinned her with a look. “Unless, that is, you allow him to bother you,” she added reasonably.

Grace snorted inelegantly. “His mere
presence
bothers me,” she retorted, but her eyes still searched the throng.

Faith raised dubious brows.“You know, it almost appears to me as though you are looking
for
him, not trying to
avoid
him.”

Grace sighed and turned back to look at her sister. “What makes you say that?”

Faith shrugged gracefully. “Pure logic. In the past you’ve always tried to escape when we’ve encountered him. A mere three days ago, you went so far as to feign illness in order to keep him from calling on you. Yet tonight you’re acting as though you’re expecting to see him.” She smiled, then bent down and whispered in Grace’s ear, “And I think you’re looking forward to it.”

On impulse, Grace turned and looked for Aunt Cleo. She spotted her a few paces away, deeply engrossed in conversation with a small group of matronly ladies. Whirling back around, she grabbed Faith’s hand and pulled her behind a nearby pillar. “Since it seems you’re going to figure it all out anyway, I suppose I could use your help.” Briefly, she explained the contest between herself and Trevor, glancing around to make certain nobody else could hear. As she talked, she began to realize how ridiculous the entire scheme sounded. She watched as Faith’s expression changed from interest to dismay, and finally to shocked dis-belief. She finished her explanation with a lame, “What do you think?”

“What do I
think?
” Faith hissed, her usual calm logic deserting her in the face of her headstrong sister’s latest escapade. “Have you lost your minds? The only advice I could possibly offer is for you to act as if you have a brain in your head. Do you realize what people would
say
?” Grace began to look mutinous as Faith continued:“How in the world did you think I could possibly help you with this harebrained idea?”

An interruption saved her from having to come up with a plausible answer. “Good evening, ladies.”

The honeyed, golden tones of Trevor’s low-timbred voice deliciously touched, as always, a spot deep within Grace. Firmly she dismissed the warm feeling, saying irritably, “Must you always sneak up on people and pounce in that provoking fashion?”

Faith inclined her smoothly coifed head at him and smiled, but her alert gaze registered Grace’s suddenly heightened color and bright eyes, as well as the way Trevor’s eyes softened and the corners of his mouth quirked up.
Why, she is already half in love with him!
Faith thought to herself, her assessing eyes darting quickly back to Trevor’s face. Did he know of her sister’s budding feelings? she wondered, peering closely at the handsome earl. No, she decided, as she watched her sister continue to verbally spar with the man, but he certainly felt the same way. His affection showed in the way he looked at Grace, in the tone of his voice as he spoke with her, and in the tender way he treated her.

“Pounce?” Trevor quirked one of his eyebrows up in a way that never failed to infuriate Grace. Luckily, Aunt Cleo chose that moment to appear. Trevor wisely took full advantage of the distraction. “Ah, Lady Egerton, I’m so glad you’ve joined us. I was hoping to gain your permission to dance with Miss Grace.” He sent his prey a rather triumphant look, bowing charmingly over Aunt Cleo’s outstretched hand.

Aunt Cleo scowled in mock irritation and pulled her hand away. She thwacked him squarely on the shoulder with the silver top of her cane. “
Do
stop that infernal simpering at me, young man,” she commanded.

Grace stifled a horrified giggle as Trevor winced in pain. She hastily composed herself as her outrageous aunt turned to look at her. “Grace!” she barked, in a voice that carried halfway across the ballroom despite the din of more than seven hundred guests.

“Yes, ma’am?” She gave Lady Egerton her best look of abject obedience.

“Will you kindly dance with this gentleman before he injures his back with all that wretched bowing and scraping?” And without waiting for a response, Aunt Cleo swept
away, the large purple feather on her turban bobbing helplessly along with her.

Grace gaped in astonishment after her aunt, then slowly looked sideways at Trevor. He, too, stared after Aunt Cleo, a broad grin wreathing his face. With a shake of his head, he turned and held out his arm to Grace, politely asking Faith if she would excuse them. Too perplexed to argue, Grace put her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her away.

Once on the dance floor, they moved effortlessly into each other’s arms. For a few moments they danced without speaking, in the fluid rhythm that came so naturally to them. Unwilling to bring up the subject that concerned her most, Grace chewed on her lower lip while Trevor watched with carefully concealed amusement. He could almost see the direction of her thoughts. She wanted to talk about the plan, but was unable to broach the subject without appearing too eager, so she hoped he would bring it up.

He did not miss his guess. Curiosity demanded that Grace ask him, but pride kept her silent. She jumped in surprise when he finally spoke. “Are you trying again to make me look dull, as you did last week at Almack’s?”

She looked up at him with a swift, startled laugh, relieved to see by his expression that he was teasing her. “You’re really horrid to bring that up again,” she admonished. He looked solemnly back down at her, but a teasing grin played about his mouth, and his jade eyes held a decided glint. Grace realized he knew exactly what consumed her thoughts.

Trevor watched in amazement as a sudden impish grin lit her features. The moment she smiled, her already beautiful face transformed into something of flawless, breathtaking perfection. She opened her mouth slightly, offering Trevor a tantalizing glimpse of her even white teeth. He was just envisioning those teeth sinking gently into his lower lip,
when she spoke, startling him from his momentary reverie. “All right, Huntwick,” she said.“Let’s hear this plan.”

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