Three Weeks to Wed (16 page)

“Grace?” Small lines bracketed Matt's mouth.

She met his gaze. “If that's the case, we must marry as soon as possible. One week from Tuesday.” She turned anxiously to her aunt. “If you do not think it too premature, Aunt Almeria?”

“You just want a small wedding, dear?”

Grace nodded. “Yes, family and close friends. That is all I want. Worthington?”

“I as well.”

“Under the circumstances”—Aunt Almeria said briskly—“with the guardianship and two young ladies to bring out, I think what little talk the marriage might cause will die down quickly. It is not, after all, as if you are a young lady just out. I know the rector at St. George's quite well. If you'd like, I shall make the arrangements.” She twisted the fringe of her shawl. “I shall leave you with the wedding breakfast to plan. As much as I hold all the dear children in affection . . .”

Grace laughed at the thought of eleven children trooping through Herndon House. “No, I'll be happy to arrange it.”

“Worthington, a word with you in private, if I may,” her uncle said.

Now what could it be? Grace tried to keep her countenance calm, but her panic must have shown. Uncle Herndon smiled reassuringly. “Just a formality, my dear. I need to discuss the settlements with Worthington.”

“Of course, Uncle.”

Matt kissed her cheek. “I'll be back soon.”

The only thing she had of her own was her dowry, yet if her uncle wished to be responsible for making sure all was right, he was welcome to it.

* * *

Matt followed Lord Herndon to his study.

“Please have a seat. You may send your information to my solicitor. I wanted to tell you how Grace's portion and those of the children's were settled.”

Matt didn't care if she was penniless, yet Grace wouldn't see it that way. “Very well.”

“Grace has a dowry of around thirty thousand, invested in funds, from her mother's settlement. All the other girls have the same amount. The two younger boys have easy competences, enough for them to marry and command the elegancies of life. Still, their father wanted them to have a profession. The church, law, or the foreign office. Something of that sort.” Lord Herndon rose and poured them both a brandy. “By the time Lord Timothy, Grace's maternal grandfather, died, two of his sons had predeceased him. He had a small estate in Cambridgeshire and a large fortune in investments. Before his death, he and I discussed the matter. He decided that his Cambridgeshire estate would go to Walter and the house on Half-Moon Street to Philip. Both properties are currently leased.”

“I understand.” Matt was relieved the children were taken care of.

“Grace, because she took the children, was to receive an additional amount upon Charlie attaining his majority. She'll still receive the bequest if she manages to keep the children together. I don't think she's ever thought about it. But old Lord Timothy wanted to ensure she had enough to live well on, if she never married.”

“No, I'm quite sure she hasn't given the bequest a bit of thought.”

Herndon fixed Matt with a stern look. “Grace is a wealthy woman.”

He put down his brandy and stood. “Then she shall remain so. Decide what you think right for any daughters she and I will have. I shall provide for our sons. Grace shall keep all her property. If anything should happen to me, I want her taken care of. Send me the figures and we'll speak again.”

Lord Herndon grinned. “I understand you are also an heir to a marquisate.”

“Indeed, but I don't expect anything to come of it.” Matt shrugged. “My cousin is still young, and not at all reckless.”

Herndon put a hand on Matt's shoulder. “I should dearly love to hear the story of how that came about.”

“Someday I'll tell you.” He grinned. Matt wanted to get back to Grace and take her home, hold her in his arms, and reassure her everything would be fine.

Grace's mind was in a whirl. The marriage she thought never to have would happen next week. But then what? Grace tried to breathe calmly but her heart fluttered.

“Grace, Grace?” Aunt Almeria hovered around her. “You are very pale, dear. Is anything wrong?”

Grace glanced up. “I can't believe it's happening so soon.”

She'd spent years thinking about him. He claimed to have fallen in love in one night. Was she truly even that woman? Well, she admitted ruefully, part of her was. The part that was so wanton as to allow him, no, encourage him to take her anywhere. Had he mistook passion for love?

“Grace, is there anything I can help you with?” Aunt Almeria chaffed one of Grace's hands.

She passed her other hand over her brow. “No, I mean—I don't know what I mean. Worthington says he loves me—but—how could he know so soon?”

“Isn't it the same for you?”

“No—I remembered him from when I came out. He didn't remember me well at all.”

“My dear, he was still in his twenties then. A boy in many ways. I am quite sure he is not the same gentleman he was then.”

Did she not really love him then? Did she only love who she thought he was? “Yes, I see. I suppose it will all work out.”

“Of course it will, my dear. Do not be upset if his ardor cools after you have been married for a while. It is normal for gentlemen, even the best of them, to have their
chères amies
and, of course, you must not expect him to be so attentive of the children. Once you are married and the guardianship has been established, he will not need to spend so much time with them.”

Grace hadn't thought of that, and she should have. It happened to so many women. Her spirits sank lower. How could she have been so stupid to believe she could have what Phoebe and Anna had?

She was trapped. And the worst part of it was she'd trapped herself. Could she even enjoy the short time they'd have before he turned to another woman?

“You're right, Aunt Almeria. I can expect nothing more.” She rose and went to the window. Grace stopped herself from crying, still tears pooled in her eyes. She took out her handkerchief. It wouldn't do to allow Worthington to see her like this. He'd hold her in disgust sooner if she became one of those women forever weeping and fainting. Maybe if she distanced herself from him. Then his eventual betrayal wouldn't be so hard to manage.

“Grace, my love.” His deep voice washed over her.

Drawing on her breeding, she smiled brightly, before turning to greet him. “Are you ready?”

His eyes narrowed. “If you are. I thought you might like to rest for a while.”

“No, no, indeed,” she responded coolly. “I never sleep in the afternoon. Although, I would like some time to myself.”

The confusion in his deep blue eyes cut her to the core.

“Very well, if that's what you wish, I'll escort you home.”

Maintaining a cool smile, she nodded. “Thank you, Worthington.”

As they were bidding her aunt and uncle good-bye, her aunt said, “Remember what I told you, and you will not be disappointed.”

The smile on Grace's face felt rigid as if it would crack if she wasn't careful. “Thank you, Aunt Almeria, I shall.”

Matt—no, Worthington—Grace must remember to distance herself—glanced down at her. His brows drew together. Her heart skipped a beat, and she wanted to flee. Instead, she continued to smile.

* * *

He wanted to scowl. He greatly preferred his sometimes happy, sometimes panicked, but always passionate love to the coolly distant lady on his arm. What had her aunt said to her? How could he find out? He doubted Grace would tell him. But he knew three women he could ask.

On the way back to Berkeley Square, they made small talk about nothing. Once they arrived at Stanwood House, he ascertained that his stepmother had gone home after having been assured by Cousin Jane that she could take charge of the children. The house was strangely quiet. He missed the shrill voices and thumping feet. Matt kissed Grace's hand and left her in the hall.

His long strides took him across the grassy square and into his house. “Thorton, where is her ladyship?”

“Gone out, my lord. She doesn't expect to be back until late.”

He started to walk away and turned. “You may wish me happy. Lady Grace has agreed to marry me on Tuesday next.”

His butler bowed. “Then I do wish you happy, my lord. We shall look forward to your nuptials.”

He grinned boyishly. “Don't smile now.”

Thorton's face was a mask. “Smile, my lord?”

“You're an old fraud.”

“As you say, my lord.”

Matt left the hall. News of his marriage would run through the house like fire. He glanced at the clock. Not even time for tea. After a few hours, his sisters returned. He kissed them good night. Selecting a book, he began to read, but soon drifted off to sleep.

The following morning, his stepmother had not yet left her room when he rose.

Louisa pounded on his door. “Matt, do hurry, we shall be late.”

“Late for what?”

“Breakfast. We are expected, and you are going to make us late.”

She had to be the only female he knew who insisted on being on time. “I'll be down directly.”

He should have realized from what Walter had said that they were now taking all their meals together. Just who had made the decision, he'd no idea.

When they arrived, Grace was already at the table orchestrating her brothers and sisters. Matt took a seat next to her.

She greeted him with a small smile. “Good morning, my lord.”

Something was still wrong. If only he knew what it was. “Good morning.” He waved a hand to encompass the table. “I take it this is to be an everyday affair?”

“Yes. Do you mind?”

He smiled. “Not in the least. The idea that I'll be able to see your charming countenance each morning delights me.”

“Good.” Grace sniffed.

What had he said? “May we discuss some matters after breakfast?”

Her head made sudden small shaking motions. “Not to-day. I need—there are some accounts I must review.”

Simply wrong was quickly becoming very wrong. “Very well, then, later in the day or on the morrow?”

“Yes, of course. Perhaps then.”

After he'd eaten, he left the children at Stanwood House and swiftly strode back across the square.

“In her parlor, my lord,” Thorton said knowingly.

Drat the man! How the devil did he . . . ? “Thank you.”

Matt entered without knocking.

“Worthington, what is this?” Patience glanced up, startled. “There is nothing wrong, I hope.”

“There is, but I don't have any idea what.” He sat heavily on a delicate French-backed chair that creaked slightly as he'd lowered his weight.

Patience frowned. “Did your conversation with Lord Herndon go well?”

“Yes, better than I'd expected. It appears that some of her father's relatives have been talking about her guardianship. Lord and Lady Herndon suggested we marry as soon as possible. We've chosen the Tuesday after Easter.”

“Matt! That soon?”

“Yes, only family and close friends. I'll buy the license in the morning. Herndon and I discussed the settlements.” He paused. “After that, Grace was different. I think it was something her aunt said.” He fixed his eyes on Patience. “Do you know what it might have been?”

“Don't be silly.” Patience raised her brows. “How should I know?”

“Did your mother say anything to you before you married?”

“Yes.” She raised her chin haughtily. “She gave me some very good advice that I would have done well to take. But that is neither here nor there.”

“Patience, I am sorry. I know you weren't happy . . .”

“Matt, that is not true, and don't you ever repeat it. I was a married lady, with more than enough pin money to see to all my desires. I had my children and you to keep me company. Now, if you will excuse me, I find I have some duties to attend to.” She swept regally out of the room.

He shook his head. It wasn't true. She loved his father, and he didn't love her. When he'd been home, he was always attentive, but he had wanted more sons, and she'd given him daughters. Matt confronted his father once after he'd married Patience. Father admitted that he couldn't be at Worthington Hall without thinking of Matt's mother, and he never brought Patience to London because Worthington House had been Mama's pride and joy.

Widowhood had taken the sting out of Patience's marriage to his father. They did say widows were the most fortunate of ladies. He didn't want that to be true for Grace. He wanted her to be happy married to him. Matt stood. He needed answers sooner rather than later. Returning to the front hall, he donned his coat. Thorton handed him his hat and cane. He quickly made his way to Grosvenor Square and knocked on the Dunwood House door.

The butler bowed. “I am sorry, my lord. Lord and Lady Evesham had a matter of some urgency to attend to at Char-teries. I expect them back by at the end of the week.”

Damn, now what was he to do? “Be a good fellow and let me have a pen and some paper. I must leave a message.”

The butler bowed again. “With pleasure, my lord. If you will follow me.”

Matt wrote a note informing them of the marriage date. “Please have this conveyed to Lord Evesham as soon as possible.”

“My lord, Lady Evesham asked me to give you this.” The butler handed him a folded sheet of paper. He opened it— ah, the list of entertainments. He tucked it into the inside pocket he'd insisted Weston put in his coat. “Thank you.”

Quickly descending the steps, he turned toward Green Street, where the Rutherfords lived. If he had any luck at all, Anna would be there, and he'd ask her.

Matt was ushered into the study where he found both of them working at a huge partner's table.

Rutherford rose to greet him. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Worthington bowed to Anna. “I wanted to tell you Lady Grace and I shall marry next Tuesday. I—I also have a question for Anna.” He glanced at her hopefully.

Giving him a curious look, she rose. “Come over here and make yourself comfortable. Rutherford, please ring for tea.” She turned back to Matt. “Unless you'd like wine?”

“No, no, tea is perfect.”

Anna sat on a love seat with Rutherford next to her. “Now, how may I help you?”

Matt felt the heat rise in his face. Damn, it had been years since he'd blushed. “I need not tell you that this must remain amongst us three?”

Shrugging lightly, Anna replied, “Of course.”

Rutherford nodded.

“We, Grace and I, were at Lord and Lady Herndon's house yesterday. Lord Herndon and I went to his office to discuss the marriage settlements. When I returned to Grace, she was different. Colder. Just before we left her aunt told her to remember what she'd said. Whatever she told Grace, it affected her.” He rubbed his eyes. “Do you have any idea what she could have said to make Grace distance herself from me?”

A small smile appeared on Anna's face. “I think I know. It is advice frequently given by ladies whose marriages are . . . not what they expected them to be.”

He didn't like the sound of that. “Go on.”

Anna grimaced. “Lady Herndon, with the best will in the world, probably told Grace to expect you not to be faithful.”

“
What?
” He raked his hands through his hair. “Why? I don't understand what reason she would have to say such a thing.”

“It's not uncommon. Lady Herndon probably wanted to spare Grace the disappointment she'd felt at one point.”

Rutherford glowered. “Did your mother tell you that?”

Taking his hand, she patted it, and said serenely, “Of course, but by then I knew you didn't want anyone else.”

“And I never shall,” he answered gruffly.

“I'm very happy for the two of you.” Worthington tried to keep his exasperation under control. “But how do I counter her advice? It's making Grace miserable.”

Anna grinned. “You'll think of something. The best thing would be for you to get her to tell you what her aunt said, then you can speak openly about it.”

Worthington strode back to his house scowling. Of all the ninnyhammered things to say to a woman who already had enough to worry about. Yet how to approach Grace?

“Thorton, I shall be in my study. I do not wish to be disturbed unless the house is burning down, or if Lady Grace should happen to visit, I shall see her. Only her, mind you.”

“Yes, my lord.” Thorton closed the door, and Matt leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. Now he knew what advice Patience's mother had given her. Unfortunately in that case, her mother had been right. He'd need to give Grace all the affection and understanding his father hadn't given Patience.

Grace and Matt's love was more like his father's and his mother's. He'd cajole her out of her bad moods, and she would do the same for him. He'd protect her. But to do that, he needed to discover how to change what was going on in her beautiful, misbegotten head.

* * *

Jane needed a walk. Grace was upset and not ready to discuss whatever was troubling her. The children had their lessons, and Jane had some errands to run. At least that was the excuse she'd use if anyone asked. She'd always hoped Grace would wed, but now that the event would occur in about a week, Jane must seriously consider what she would like to do.