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Authors: Ella Quinn

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BOOK: Three Weeks to Wed
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“That went much better than I'd dreamed it could,” Patience exclaimed.
Worthington squeezed Grace's hand. “What did you think?”
“I was shocked at first. I've spent so much time being careful to not be the object of any gossip, that at first it didn't occur to me a rumor could be good.” She shook her head. “I'm not making any sense, am I?”
He kissed her cheek. “In a roundabout way you are making perfect sense. After all, most gossip is not helpful, and you have had a great deal to worry over. We will bring this off, see if we don't.”
Grace smiled and wished they could be alone together. “We shall, won't we?”
“Yes, my lady. I'm looking forward to speaking with your uncle.”
“First things first.” She turned to her future mother-in-law before they forgot she was in the room. “Patience, would you and the girls like to join us for dinner?”
Patience grinned. “I've been hoping you'd ask, although I gather the girls have already decided to take their meals here.”
Not only would the children and Jane be present, but Mr. Winters and Miss Tallerton. Sixteen for dinner. Fortunately she had already informed her cook that the Vivers girls would now be eating with them. At this point, one more would hardly matter. She made a mental note to herself to remind Royston to add two more leaves to the table, and not to remove them, at least until after the marriage and maybe not even then. They still hadn't decided where they would live.
Chapter Fifteen
Early that afternoon, Grace was thrilled that the first major meal by her new cook was such a success. The roast of beef studded with garlic was done to perfection, as was the pudding. No English cook could have done better and many a great deal worse. It was accompanied by a clear soup, Brussels sprouts tossed with shallots, that even the younger children liked, French beans with shaved almonds, a salad of greens with vinaigrette, new potatoes, and asparagus from her succession houses. The last course included cheeses, fruit, jellies, small tarts, and sweetmeats.
Patience sat back in her chair. “Oh, my dear Grace, I do not know when I have eaten so well. I must compliment your chef.”
“Thank you, he is a wonder. I shall pass on your praise.”
Other than the
click
of tableware against china, the children had all been quiet and were now picking over the sweets. “Matt and I must visit Aunt and Uncle Herndon. What would you children like to do while we're gone?”
“If no one would mind, we could play outside,” Alice said.
“You'll have to change.”
“Yes, Grace, but what about the others?”
Grace glanced to Patience, who then said, “I must change as well. I shall take my girls home and, if you don't mind, bring them back. I am happy to remain here while you visit Lord and Lady Herndon.”
Grace was glad that Patience seemed to be feeling at home around them. “I don't mind at all. It's a perfect idea.”
Patience stood and called her daughters to order. At the same time, Grace's brothers and sisters went to their rooms to change.
Matt drew her up. “Alone at last.”
“Yes.” She stepped closer to him.
His brows drew together. “Do you want to tell me what happened at St. George's? You seemed lost.”
“I don't know if I can explain it.” Grace frowned. “We had made a plan, and I saw it all unraveling.”
“How so?”
“It started going too fast. I expected some resistance from my uncle, at the very least. Since my mother died, life has seemed so much harder. Now it seems too easy and that makes me fear that something will happen to keep us from marrying.” She put her hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart reassured her. “I know it sounds silly. I'm fine now.”
“You're not being silly.” He nuzzled her hair. “Nothing will stop me from marrying you. We may not have decided where we're living or how you're going to manage Stanwood from a distance, or any number of other issues, but my marrying you is a certainty.”
Gazing up at him she was bereft of words. She had to trust him and what he said. If she didn't, she'd be lost.
He nodded as if he could hear her thoughts. “If we are able, do you wish to marry earlier?”
Perhaps that was the answer. “Yes, oh yes. I want all this uncertainty to be over.”
“Grace, my love, when you came to me at the inn . . .”
“My lady, my lord, Lord and Lady Evesham would like to see you,” Royston said.
“Please show them here and bring tea.” She wondered what brought their friends without warning. Was it wrong of them to take all their brothers and sisters to church? No, it couldn't be that.
Her butler bowed. “Yes, my lady.”
She took Matt's hand. “I wonder what this is about. Did you see them to-day?”
“I did.” He stroked her back. “You had your head down.”
Grace sighed. “I suppose I did.”
They stood as Phoebe and Marcus were shown in.
Phoebe could barely contain herself. “Grace, everyone in Town must have been at St. George's this morning. You and Worthington are all anyone talked about.”
The room whirled and grew dark.
“She's fainted,” Phoebe said calmly. “Marcus, I have smelling salts in my reticule. Please give them to me.”
Matt looked down at the limp form of his betrothed in his arms. Fortunately, he'd caught her as she fell.
“Worthington, take Grace to a parlor and lay her on a chaise.”
He did as he was told. “I don't understand. What happened to her?”
“No, I daresay you don't,” Phoebe said. “Let's get her settled, and I shall explain.”
Carrying his love to the chaise, Matt tenderly laid her on it. Then sat next to her and chaffed her hands.
Phoebe came over. “Grace was always shy. It's easy for her to talk with one or two people, but she has a tendency to panic in larger crowds. Since she came out, she's always been concerned about gossip. But after her parents died and the battle for her brothers and sisters began, I could tell, through her letters, that it had become almost an obsession. She is afraid, no terrified, that someone will start a rumor, and the children will be taken away and parceled out to various family members. Which, of course, means she'll have failed in her oath to her mother and in her duty to the children. I shouldn't have said what I did without preparing her.” Phoebe took the salts from Marcus and glanced up. “Worthington, tell me you understand.”
“Yes, I think so. Come to think of it, when she noticed the attention we were receiving in church, she seemed to go somewhere else.”
“That's not surprising. All she needs is support, and she'll be fine.” Phoebe passed the salts under Grace's nose, and she came around.
“Grace, my love.” He held her to him. He hadn't fully appreciated the extent of the burden she'd been carrying, but he should have. All the more reason to get leg-shackled as soon as possible.
“Did I faint?”
“Yes, it's no matter.” Phoebe handed Grace a glass of water. “I knew better than to shock you. Come sit up. Worthington, help her. Grace, you'll be right as a trivet in no time.”
He held her as Grace drank.
Putting the glass down, she said, “I'm fine. Now, tell me your news.”
Phoebe sat down, her lips tilted. “Everyone is talking about how Worthington swept you off your feet and is acting just as he ought. Some of the talk originated from Lady Bellamny's party, but some if it has to do with Worthington taking care of the little contretemps your brother was involved in.”
The tea Grace asked for was brought in. Phoebe served them before continuing her story. “Mrs. Babcock has told anyone who would listen Lord Worthington is fixing his attention on you. And your aunt Herndon is putting it around that Worthington is speaking with your uncle this afternoon.”
Grace's startled eyes flew to Matt's. He hugged her to him. “It's all right.”
“But we still have so much to decide.”
“Yes, and we shall.”
Patience was shown in and greeted. “I've spent the last half hour with Helena Featherton and Sally Huntingdon. You are the romance of the Season.”
Matt glanced down to see Grace had once again fainted.
“Is it something I said?” Patience asked with concern.
Marcus handed him the vial of sal volatile
,
and he brought Grace around. Phoebe took his stepmother aside, speaking softly to her.
“Oh, no, and I am afraid I haven't been very helpful. I was so concerned about a scandal, I did not think about Grace.” Patience glanced at her stepson. “Worthington, I am so sorry. Grace, my dear, I would not for the life of me have hurt you. I'm thrilled with how this is turning out. Lady Sefton congratulated me and promised vouchers for Almack's for both Louisa and Charlotte.”
Worthington handed Grace her water followed by a sherry. “What can I do to convince you it will all be made right?”
Grace's voice shook. “I feel so stupid.”
He sat her up and held her to him and vowed to himself nothing and no one would ever hurt her. “You are anything but stupid. It's just been a bit of a shock.”
“What time is it?”
“You have time to rest for a while before we leave.” He cuddled her closer.
Marcus helped Phoebe rise, and she said, “Yes, indeed. It will not do for you to show Lady Herndon your pale face. Come, and I shall help you to your chamber.”
“Here, I'll carry you.” Matt rose and bent to scoop her into his arms.
“No, no, really, you shouldn't carry me through the house.” Grace laughed weakly. “I'm perfectly capable of going to my room. All I need to do is splash my face with some cold water.”
Once she and Phoebe left, he regarded his stepmother. “I'm buying the special license to-morrow. As soon as she agrees, we shall marry.”
“As you will.” Patience had the grace to blush. “I freely admit I was in the wrong in thinking you should wait several weeks.”
“I don't blame you. We still have many problems to resolve. Yet I want her as my wife as soon as possible.”
Patience furrowed her brow. “Just the family and some friends at the wedding?”
Nodding, Matt firmed his jaw. “Yes. I'll not put her through a large wedding. Not with the guardianship hanging over her.”
“That”—Marcus saluted Matt with his cup of tea—“is a wise decision. Let us know and we'll stand as witnesses.”
Matt wrung his friend's hand. “Thank you. I'm going to see about Grace.”
Matt strode to the grand staircase, taking the stairs two at a time. At the top, he looked around, wondering where Grace's chambers were. Fortunately, she and Phoebe emerged from a corridor. Phoebe wiggled her fingers at him and left.
Trying to keep the worry from his voice, he glanced down at Grace. “Are you well?”
Grace smiled weakly. “Yes, of course, I really didn't need to rest.”
“You're sure?” He dragged her into his arms. “We can't have you fainting at your aunt and uncle's house.”
“I'm certain, though I may faint from lack of breath.”
Loosening his grip, he lightly kissed her forehead. “I love you.”
“I've felt the same about you since that night. That is what frightens me.” She closed her eyes and small lines appeared in her forehead. “I cannot shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen.”
He held her closer and kissed her brow. Grace trembled in his arms. “I will not allow anything or anyone to take those children from you. I promise you that. I'm not leaving you.”
“Your stepmother is so concerned.”
“No, not any longer. She's admitted she was in the wrong.”
“Did she? That is a relief.” Grace gazed up at him. “Is there anything else I should know? More rumors?”
He laughed easily, happy to have good news for her. “No, my love. All the rumors and speculation are helping us.”
“Then I suppose we should go.”
Worthington kissed her lightly on her lips. “Shall we walk to Grosvenor Square? The air might do you good.”
“Yes, I should like to.” Grace took his arm. “It's such a pretty day, and, other than to church, I haven't been for a nice walk since I arrived in Town.”
When I wasn't dodging you or your family, that is.
Worthington retrieved his hat and placed her hand on his arm. “Shall we go, my lady?”
She nodded. Being with him was right. So many times she'd ached with loneliness and struggled with thinking she couldn't marry. He loved her, and he wasn't taking the children lightly. He knew how much work it would be. Everything would be fine.
Several minutes later, Worthington knocked on the large, shiny, black door of Herndon House. Her uncle's elderly butler bowed and showed them into the drawing room where her aunt and uncle rose to greet them.
“Grace, Worthington.” Aunt offered Grace her cheek and her hand to Worthington.
Uncle Bertrand smiled broadly. “Worthington, come and sit. We have a great deal to discuss.”
Her aunt kept up a steady stream of small talk until tea was served. The topic turned to Grace, the children, and Worthington.
“I don't mean to mince words with you, my lord,” Uncle Herndon said. “I'll be happy to see Grace married.” He glanced at her. “Since her grandfather, Lord Timothy, died, talk has gotten back to me that some of her father's relatives think it improper for her to hold the guardianship alone.”
Grace's heart lurched. Had she been having premonitions? Her mother had them at times.
Matt squeezed her hand. “Will our marriage settle the talk, do you think?”
Her uncle rubbed his nose. “You are a respected and wealthy peer. Everyone knows you would not take on the responsibility of the children unless you wanted to.” He took a sip of tea. “Masterful stroke bringing your stepmother with you to church. Everyone knows her reputation. She wouldn't countenance the match unless she was convinced all was proper.”
Grace kept her breathing calm. It was a good thing Patience didn't know about the inn, or the other. “No, she wouldn't.”
Her aunt smiled. “Have you set the date, my dear?”
Grace glanced at Matt. “Not yet. We were concerned that there would be just the kind of talk we wish to avoid if we married too soon.”
“Very prudent of you.” Aunt Almeria reminded her of a bird looking expectantly for a piece of bread.
“We had originally agreed on three weeks.” Grace took a breath, steeling herself for her aunt's reactions. “But now perhaps less.”
Aunt Almeria smiled warmly.
“My lord?” Matt asked. “How soon may I apply for guardianship?”
“Not until you are married.” Her uncle rubbed his chin. “They might accept the application based on the betrothal, but no action could be taken before you're leg-shackled.”
“That's not good at all.” She wanted the guardianship completed as soon as possible.
BOOK: Three Weeks to Wed
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