Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace (30 page)

She smiled easily at him. “Nothing so dire as what you assume. I simply require some time to consider how soon my life will change. A girl dreams of this moment, but the reality places so many demands on her. As we will depart on Monday, I have so many items to which to attend, especially as you have indicated we should marry before Christmastide.”

“Then permit me to escort you to your chambers. I do not wish my future bride to be overwrought.” He offered her his arm. Miss Haverty bid her parents a good evening before accepting Gabriel’s company.

“Will you return to the ball, my Lord?” Miss Haverty asked as they climbed the main stairs together.

He flicked his lady a playful glance. “If you inquire whether I care to dance with other ladies, I do not. However, it would appear circumspect if we both left the festivities at the same time. I will return to the card room for a few hands. Lord Brant is more lenient in what he tolerates under his roof when he entertains his neighbors.”

They paused outside her chamber door. “Then I bid you good evening, my Lord.”

Gabriel tilted her chin up where he might view her countenance. Her face was perfection, but it stirred nothing in him. “Until the morrow, Miss Haverty.” Respectfully, he kissed her chastely and then turned toward the stairs. As he returned below, all of which he could think was the imperfect symmetry of Grace Nelson’s countenance, and how he much preferred her complexion to the beautiful Alice Haverty.

*

From the shadows of the gallery, Grace had watched as Lord Godown had bent his head to offer his betrothed a proper kiss. Nothing like what he had given her. Of course, Miss Haverty was part of the ton, and His Lordship would treat the lady with respect and propriety. Grace bit her lip to keep from calling out at the injustice of it all. As a governess, she could never be more than Lord Godown’s mistress. Geoffrey had gambled away his future, as well as hers. “And Mercy’s too,” Grace whispered into the stillness.

Yesterday, after she had regained her composure, Grace had second thoughts regarding her refusal to be His Lordship’s lady friend. When she considered the money and the jewels he would bestow upon her, she nearly sought him out and offered her agreement. With his protection, she could send Mercy enough money to stage her own escape from their brother. “It would be a high price to pay,” she had told her mirror image, “but Mercy might still know happiness, and I would have Lord Godown, at least, for a short period. Until he tired of me.”

And even though she truly considered it an option, Grace could not muster the courage to make her declaration. Somehow, the word “mistress” did not fit her profile. She would never do well in the role, and she could not bear to know His Lordship’s disappointment. “I hope he knows happiness with his choice of brides,” she said as she turned from the sight of his lips knowing another woman. Slowly, she made her way to the balustrade overlooking the grand ballroom. Earlier, she had brought her charges to this very spot so Victoria and Mary could spy on their parents and the Brants’ guests.

Grace had enjoyed the goings on as much as the girls. Her only experience with Society had been that short stay in London when the Averettes had joined the Duke of Thornhill at Briar Hall. The Prince’s party, a dinner, and an evening at Vauxhall. Three times in Society. In her three and twenty years. But never as a lady–as a baron’s daughter–as a member of the ton. Instead, as an invisible upper servant. Therefore, she had watched with enthusiasm. But her eyes knew only one of the throng: Lord Godown.

Grace had stared in awe as the man’s sense of self. He knew his place in the room. Lord Godown was the highest-ranking aristocrat in attendance. He knew it, and so did everyone else in the hall. Yet, even with his handsome countenance and well-respected consequence, she observed how he searched for something that always appeared out of reach. At first, Grace had thought Lord Godown had sought his Miss Haverty, but when the lady was near, His Lordship’s eyes spoke of loneliness, and her heart clenched in response. “He will learn to love the lady,” Grace had told herself as she escorted the girls to their chambers.

When her charges were finally asleep, Grace had thought to seek her own bed, but knowing Lord Godown would be leaving soon, she had returned to the gallery to look upon his beloved countenance a bit longer. That is when she had noted his escorting Miss Haverty from the hall. Of course, if she had known she would have witnessed His Lordship’s affectionate gesture, Grace would have exited the gallery through the far door.

After the kiss, Lord Godown had returned to the party, and Miss Haverty had withdrawn to her chambers. Now, she watched him make small talk with the lady’s parents and then join several other men in the card room. Thinking him occupied for the evening, she gathered her shawl and the unlit candle to return to her room, but then another of Lord Brant’s guests appeared in the gallery. Grace involuntarily dropped further into the shadows, actually hiding behind a suit of armor. Although she was certain Lord Brant would not approve of her clandestine spying, Grace had been wary of this particular guest for several days. She had noted how he watched her when she brought the children to visit with their mother in Lady Brant’s sitting room. He was one of which to be wary.

Lord Abbott confidently crossed the dark gallery and exited through the door leading to the guest rooms. Normally, his actions would not have piqued Grace’s curiosity, but the Brants had specifically separated the unmarried males and females in their guest quarters. Lord Abbott had entered the hallway for the unmarried ladies. “Perhaps, His Lordship has arranged a tryst,” Grace said as she stepped from behind the armor.

On silent feet, Grace made her way to the door and eased it open an inch. She watched as Lord Abbott made his way along the silent passage. He looked over his shoulder several times to ensure his privacy before he entered Miss Haverty’s room with a light knock.

Grace eased the door closed. “Oh, my!” she gasped. “Now what do I do? Should I inform Lord Godown? A man expects his wife to know only him,” she reasoned. “His Lordship reportedly requires an heir to save his father’s lands, but it would be unfair if Miss Haverty foisted Lord Abbott’s child upon the marquis,” she argued.

Her decision made Grace crept down the servants’ stairs to the ballroom. She watched from a place behind a potted plant until Lord and Lady Brant took to the dance floor before she motioned one of the footmen to her. “Lord Godown’s man has taken ill. Would you ask His Lordship to meet me here so I might escort him to Mr. Sanders?” she brazenly executed a plan she prayed would work.

“Yes, Miss,” the footman, said as he rushed away to do her bidding.

Within a matter of minutes, Lord Godown found her by the servants’ entrance. “What is amiss, Grace? Sanders is never ill,” he said suspiciously.

Grace retreated further into the shadows. “It was a ruse as well you know, my Lord,” she said softly. “But you must come with me. There is something you must discover for yourself.”

“Perhaps, you should tell me what has set you off,” he said testily.

Grace met his eyes. “Please, my Lord. I have never asked anything of you, but I am pleading for you to follow me.”

He held her gaze for several elongated seconds, and then His Lordship nodded his agreement. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, but Grace offered a silent prayer she had made the correct decision in disclosing Miss Haverty’s betrayal.

“Grace, slow down,” Gabriel called as his boots made it more difficult for him to maneuver the narrow, steep servant stairs. She was at the top and halfway across the gallery before he reached the servant opening. “Grace!” he called in warning, but she did not stop. Instead, she was through the door leading to the female guest quarters. He had left Miss Haverty in the same hall less than an hour prior. As he reached for the door’s latch he wondered if Grace had observed his kissing his betrothed, and this was some sort of revenge. He came to an abrupt halt when he discovered Grace with her ear plastered to Miss Haverty’s door.

He paused behind her. Leaning close, he whispered, “What means this?”

She shushed him with a simple gesture before going on her tiptoes to whisper close to his ear, “Listen.”

Gabriel concentrated on the sounds to which she referred. Obviously, someone was in the throes of passion. He caught Grace’s arm and dragged her from earshot. “I require an explanation,” he hissed, while tightening his grip.

Grace glanced about the open passageway. “I was in the gallery where I might watch the festivities,” she confessed. “Lord Abbott entered, and I hid, but my curiosity piqued when the gentleman entered the north wing.” Gabriel saw by her expression Grace spoke the truth. “I thought you should know, my Lord.”

Gabriel swallowed hard. It had happened again. Betrayal. Would he ever know a woman’s true regard? “You observed Lord Abbott entering Miss Haverty’s quarters?” he clarified.

“Yes, my Lord,” she said matter-of-factly.

He wondered whether she gloried in his fall, but Grace’s countenance displayed neither pity nor satisfaction. It was as if she was outraged on his behalf. Gabriel must extricate himself from his engagement: He refused to raise another man’s bastard as a Crowden. “Do you know where you might find Mr. Sanders?” he inquired as he glanced toward his betrothed’s door.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Then find him and tell him I require his assistance immediately,” Gabriel instructed.

Grace bit her bottom lip in doubt. “You will not seek revenge, my Lord? Not knock down the door?”

Gabriel actually smiled at her. Grace Nelson worried over his probable actions. “No, my Dear,” he said intimately. “I plan to have a seat outside the lady’s quarters to ensure no one leaves before I send for her father.”

Grace’s eyes widened, but she nodded and scurried away to find his valet. He took out a small medal tool from a pocket case and worked the door’s lock before he moved a small bench close to the lady’s room and sat heavily. He had wasted weeks on securing Miss Haverty’s hand only to have his aspirations dashed to smithereens. Now, he must begin again, and his heart no longer cared to venture forth. At a run, Grace and Sanders appeared. “You sent for me, my Lord?’ Sanders asked in a husky whisper.

“Yes, Sanders.” Gabriel stood and directed his man away from Miss Haverty’s door. “I want you to go below and find Mr. Haverty. Tell the gentleman I must speak to him immediately on a matter of personal importance.”

His valet’s eyebrow shot up in curiosity, but he said, “Yes, my Lord.”

Gabriel pulled Grace into the shadows. “You should report to your quarters before the scandal brings down the household. I would not have you risk your career for me.”

Grace shook her head in denial. “It is too late to separate myself from this dilemma. I sent one of Lord Brant’s footmen to find you, and I sought Mr. Sanders in Mrs. Williams’ sitting room. The Brants will be well aware of my involvement.”

“I will attempt to minimize the damage to your credibility,” Gabriel assured.

Sanders returned ahead of Mr. Haverty. Gabriel motioned him to the servant exit of the lady’s chamber. “No one comes out this door unless I say so,” he whispered.

His valet’s shoulders shifted in that familiar way of men accustomed to taking orders on the battlefield. “Yes, Sir,” he said under his breath.

Huffing and puffing from climbing the stairs, Haverty arrived. “What means this, Lord Godown?” The man mopped the perspiration from his forehead with his handkerchief.

Gabriel assumed a concerned countenance. “Less than an hour prior, after her begging off the remainderof the festivities, I escorted Miss Haverty to her room. Yet, as I returned below, a nagging doubt followed me. I feared I had not done enough to secure your daughter’s well being so I returned to see if Miss Haverty required more from her future husband. And I am pleased I did so. Miss Haverty sounds as if she is in pain.”

Lady Brant and Mrs. Haverty joined them. “What is this of Alice’s feeling poorly?” Mrs. Haverty declared as she reached her husband’s side.

“His Lordship claims to have heard Alice in some pain, and he has sent for us in concern,” Haverty summarized the situation.

Lady Brant accused, “And Miss Melsont’s role?”

“After I escorted Miss Haverty to her room, I recruited your governess to remain in the area in case my future bride required assistance,” Gabriel said with a straight face.

Haverty cocked his ear toward his daughter’s room. “I hear nothing unusual,” he declared.

“Perhaps, Mrs. Haverty might relieve my qualms by seeing to your daughter,” Gabriel encouraged innocently.

Mrs. Haverty threw up her hands in frustration. “Let us assure His Lordship of Alice’s health so we might return below.” She reached for the latch and turned it clockwise. A loud thud and a shriek of surprise followed before Mrs. Haverty collapsed in a puddle of silk and lace in the open doorway. Over Mr. Haverty’s stiffened shoulders, Gabriel could observe Miss Haverty jerking a sheet about her obviously naked body.

“Alice!” Haverty thundered as he stepped over his wife’s limp body. “What goes on here? Abbott!” he ordered. “You have some explaining to do!”

Gabriel could not see what Lord Abbott wore, or did not wear, but he assumed the man was unclothed. At least with Miss Haverty, he had discovered her deceit early on. With the Templeton affair, the lady had been with child before either he or her parents became aware of her perfidy. Over where Lady Brant and Grace assisted Mrs. Haverty to the bench he had vacated, he said, “I think it best if I withdraw my proposal.”

Haverty stammered, “Alice…how could you? Everything…everything…depended on you.”

“But I love Lord Abbott, Papa,” Miss Haverty protested.

Lady Brant stood. “I suggest Haverty, you and Marian settle this behind closed doors.” She assisted her friend to her feet before nudging Mrs. Haverty into the room, and then pointedly closing the door behind her.

Gabriel offered a stiff bow. “I would prefer not to travel on the Sabbath, but, nonetheless, I will take my leave of your household early on the morrow. It is best.”