A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (62 page)

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Authors: Catherine Gayle

Tags: #romance, #historical, #historical romance, #regency, #regency romance, #duke, #rake, #bundle, #regency series

BOOK: A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle
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Yes, ma’am, he should
return shortly. I’m sure you can speak with him as long as you
like. Lady Trent was kind enough to inform us she already
encountered your family this morning.” He coughed beneath his
breath.


Oh, that beast of a woman!
Such a dragon. Did she make a go at Lord Rotheby again? I would
wager she did.” Lady Kensington’s face filled with color as she
went into a rant about the countess. “She’s been after Lord Rotheby
since the day her husband died, if not before. I declare—oh! Why,
Lord Rotheby, so good of you to join us.”


Lady Kensington, Lady
Grace. Sir Laurence.” Gil greeted them each in turn. He shook the
baronet’s hand. “How wonderful to see you all again, and quite
surprising, I might add, to see you here in Bath. Are you here for
some shopping?” He took a swig of the water in his hands. “I
daresay there is little opportunity for that in Somerton, although
we do have a few shops that will carry some decent goods on
occasion. Lady Grace, you shall find much more variety and quality
here. Myself, I came for the waters.” He held up the glass, as
though to prove his point. “I must say, I’m not very fond of their
taste, but they are reputed to have excellent healing
qualities.”

Gil pulled a face as he took another
sip from his glass. “I hope they shall help cure me of this
interminable cough. After a few days of drinking from them, I
suppose we shall see. If I live that long, that is. Tastes like it
has been poisoned.”

Alex wondered how many days the man
considered a few.

At that moment, Lady Kensington looked
across the room. Alex caught a gleam in her eyes the moment she
started to speak. He’d be damned if she wasn’t up to something
again. The blasted woman schemed too much.


Goodness gracious me, is
that Captain and Mrs. Marshall across the way? I do believe it is.
Laurence, Lord Rotheby, we simply must go and speak with them. It
has been far too long. Hurry along, they are alone at the
moment.”

She hauled the two men with her. Lady
Grace glared at her aunt as the older woman led Sir Laurence and
Rotheby away. Then Lady Kensington feigned a sudden remembrance
that Alex and her niece had been with them. “Oh dear, we are
leaving these two without a thought! How horrid of us.”

With a pleading look, she turned to
Alex. “My lord, do be a dear and entertain our Gracie for us. We
could take the two of you with us to speak with the Marshalls, but
I do fear you would both become dreadfully bored in the company of
so many older people.”

She patted the back of his hand as if
he were a good puppy, and turned on her way, leaving her niece
seething beneath the surface, presumably because the chit was once
again alone in his company. “What a sweet boy he is. He’s quite
good to us all, Lord Rotheby.” Her voice trailed off as they
disappeared through the crowded Pump Room.

Lady Grace tried to stifle a groan as
she turned to face Alex, but he heard it leak through. They eyed
each other warily. How would they ever manage to avoid each other
at this rate?

She faced him with a look full of
consternation. “I suppose it is my turn to apologize. It seems
despite what our wishes may be, my aunt has other plans in mind.
I’m very sorry.”

What kind of response could Alex give
to such a statement? Now he would to be stuck in a very public,
very social setting, with a woman who wanted to be anywhere other
than with him, for Lord only knew how long. He wanted to make the
best of the situation, but honestly didn’t have the first inkling
how to go about it.

His mind drifted back to a few days
before, when she had painted the scene at the river. He wished he
could see her like that again, with all the joy and freedom she had
experienced. But she only seemed to experience panic, fear, and
discomfort while in his general vicinity—at least if she was aware
of his presence.


My lady, I truly believe
you had nothing to do with that. There’s no need to apologize.” He
glanced around the room for a few moments as he debated what else
to say to her.

She remained silent—a trait he now
expected in her but which rankled, nonetheless.

Her silence lasted just a touch too
long. His aggravation finally got the better of him and he snapped,
“Am I thoroughly disagreeable to you, ma’am? Am I so horrible you
are unable to converse with me at all, or is something else wrong?
I’ve apologized to you repeatedly for taking liberties in Lord
Rotheby’s garden, and for everything else under the sun. I don’t
know what else I can do to convince you to speak to me. You could
at least make some effort at being civil. Lord knows I have made
enough efforts for the both of us.”

Her eyes grew wide, and then slowly
filled with heat. “You…you…how dare you! May I remind you, sir, you
are the one who took those very liberties you speak of with me.”
She stood with her hands haughtily on her hips and her icy eyes
turned to deep, blue flames of anger. “I didn’t ask you to do so, I
didn’t encourage you to do so, and I most certainly didn’t want you
to do so. That was entirely your choice. You’ve made it abundantly
clear you only suffer my presence as a favor to Lord Rotheby and my
aunt and uncle. Yet you continue to stare lasciviously at me,
leaving me thoroughly baffled as to what, precisely, you want from
me.”

Her voice rose no more than a whisper
as she built a head of steam. Now that she had started, Alex
worried she might never stop her tirade. Yet this harangue of hers
was intriguing. She suddenly had so very much to say.

He stood in the middle of the Pump
Room with his mouth agape, unsure of how to proceed other than
allow her to continue her verbal assault. So he did.


I do not know how to act
around you. I’ve tried to ignore you, as you seemed disinclined to
my company, and I therefore assumed you would prefer that reaction.
So how, pray tell, am I supposed to react? I’ve tried to stop you
from making a gargantuan mistake, but you seem to have an aversion
to accepting my assistance. I would very much like to help you by
doing whatever it is you want, but I’m quite incapable of
interpreting your thoughts. So, my lord, why don’t you tell me what
to do and save us both a good deal of trouble? It would alleviate
the ache that is rapidly building in my head.”

Lady Grace finally took a breath, and
waited. By this point, most of the room openly stared at the two of
them, some with their jaws hanging open, others seeming to note
every word said so they could rush to the nearest gossip and fill
them in on these newest, juicy on-dits. Her words, while hardly
more than a whisper, seemed to echo in the spacious
area.

Alex, too, heard every word she’d
hissed at him. Yet he had listened to only a few. The passion she
displayed entranced him. She was normally so cold and collected,
never losing the veneer of control she kept such tight rein
over.

Yet that had all gone by the wayside,
and he could think of nothing but how beautiful she looked when
angry. Her eyes had flashed and flared, and some strands of her
hair had pulled free from the exacting knot and whipped about her
face. He wanted to capture her passion, to hold onto it for a later
moment when she resumed her cold demeanor.

Alex yearned to touch her.

Maddening. Most men would do anything
to avoid infuriating a lady, but he was formulating ways he could
do so again. He loved seeing her out of control, reckless and
passionate. He wanted more. So much more.

Without a thought to the consequences
of his actions or the audience that had gathered, he closed the
distance between them and kissed her. Greedy this time, he took
more than he gave. One hand fisted in the knot of hair at the nape
of her neck and worked to free more of it than was already framing
her face, while the other drew her closer to him so he could feel
her length against him.

Their audience drew in a collective,
scandalized breath, which appeared to register with Lady Grace. She
struggled against him, but he would prefer to ignore them. However,
she increased her struggles and pushed hard against his chest to
separate them. Reluctantly, Alex relinquished his hold.

She took a calming breath, then
another, and a third, all while glaring daggers of ice-blue fire
into his eyes. Then she reached a hand up and slapped him across
his cheek. “You forget yourself, sir,” she spat out. Then she
turned on her heels and fled, with the Kensingtons close
behind.

Alex started to follow her as well,
but Gil appeared as if from nowhere and placed a hand on his arm.
“Let her go, Alex. This will all be sorted out. Just let her go for
now.”

So he did.

 

 

 

Chapter
Twelve

 

Mortification was not nearly a strong
enough word to describe Grace’s current state.

She couldn’t believe the way she’d
behaved toward Lord Alexander in the Pump Room—losing control of
her emotions. Such behavior was grotesquely inexcusable, compounded
by the fact that a room full of people had listened to every
word.

And then. Then! Oh, that
dreadful man. How dare he kiss her
again
, and this time in public,
before a gathered crowd? But what a kiss it was… Even still, how
could she have allowed herself to enjoy the kiss, even if for just
the briefest moment?

Word would spread
throughout Bath about her behavior within the hour. How many peers
had been present? Far too many for comfort. She’d be lucky, indeed,
if word didn’t reach her father in days. Lord help her if that
happened. Why, Father could be in Bath before the week was out. Who
knew what her fate would be if that happened. She would have to
leave before he found her. He would
not
make her marry Lord Barrow, and
he would
not
take
her baby from her.

Grace was frustrated with herself,
with Lord Alexander, with her aunt and uncle…with the whole world.
She marched to their hotel, paying no attention to anything around
her.

Maybe she should simply pack up her
belongings and leave. She didn’t know where she could go, but she
didn’t want her aunt and uncle to have to face the shame of her
behavior any more than they already had at this point. Not only
that, but she couldn’t brook the thought of Father’s retribution
toward them should he discover they’d been harboring her all this
time.

They had opened their home to her,
treated her like a daughter—and she had repaid them by behaving
like an untamed shrew toward a gentleman in public, and then
allowing the man to kiss her before the whole of Bath. And then for
her encore, she’d slapped him.

Her behavior was beyond reprehensible.
Truly, how could she excuse it other than to say she’d lost her
temper? As though she were not already enough of a social outcast,
she had now secured the position for eternity.

As she strode through the hotel doors,
Uncle Laurence caught up with her. Had he followed her the entire
way from the Pump Rooms? She couldn’t hide her embarrassment from
him, however hard she tried—so she refused to even try.

He took her by the elbow without
saying a word and led her toward their suite of rooms. Aunt
Dorothea stopped at the front desk of the lobby before she followed
behind them, and she closed the door once they were all safely
inside. “Oh, my sweet dear, are you quite all right? Such an ordeal
you and Lord Alexander went through, having a lover’s spat like
that in public!”

Lover’s spat? What on earth was her
aunt concocting now? Grace knew one thing—it wasn’t good, whatever
it was.


But don’t work yourself up
over it, dear. I’m sure it will all be worked out in no time. He’s
an honorable gentleman, Gracie. He will do right by you.” Aunt
Dorothea tucked one of Grace’s stray hairs behind her ear and
patted her on the cheek. “I’ve ordered us all a bit of luncheon.
They’ll bring it in momentarily, and then we’ll have a nice,
calming meal. Then Grace, you and I will go shopping. After all,
that is why we are in Bath. We must be sure to get you some decent
clothing. So never you mind about all of what just happened.
Everything will be quite all right in no time. Won’t it,
Laurence?”


What love? Oh, yes.
Everything will be fine. I’ll make certain of it.”

Panic squeezed Grace’s chest, making
it difficult to breathe. The set of her jaw soon caused her
physical pain, so she made a conscious effort at unclenching it.
What could they possibly mean? How could her uncle make certain
everything would be fine?

Nothing could be fine.

Unless, of course, she left. Then
their lives could go back to normal, and they could pretend they
had never allowed such an ungrateful relative into their home to
disgrace them.


Aunt, Uncle, I…I think it
would be best for you both if I were to leave you. I can go
somewhere and seek employment. If Father hears of this…well, he
will certainly not take the news kindly, I’m afraid, and I don’t
know what he will do. Surely the scandal will die out faster if I
were no longer with you, so—”

Aunt Dorothea huffed. “Scandal? Oh,
pish. A touch of scandal never hurt anyone, lovey. Now I’ll hear no
more of this nonsense of you leaving us. You will not leave us if I
have to tie you to the bedpost. And don’t believe for a moment I
wouldn’t do it.”

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