A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (67 page)

He searched her face for answers. She
stared listlessly at the sky.

Getting her to speak to him, to truly
open up to him, felt like an impossible task at times. Some unknown
man had taken her virginity and left her to face the scandal—and
any other consequences—alone. How could any man could do such a
thing and still call himself a gentleman?

But she never mentioned him being a
gentleman. She had never said anything at all about him. How could
he know if she had consented, as she did with Alex, or if she was
ravished?

Dear God, not that. Never
that.

The fear in her eyes flashed to
mind—not only from tonight, but since the first time he ever saw
her. Fear attached itself to Grace like a vise. But how would he
discover the truth? There must be some way to convince her to trust
him, to speak to him, to tell him her secrets. He need only find
the way.

Her arms were crossed over her chest,
hiding her beauty from him. Her shyness after their lovemaking drew
him in even more. He stroked a finger down the side of her arm,
wanting to comfort her, to hold her—anything to touch her
again.

She rolled away and gave him her
back.

He would have plenty of time to earn
her trust. Grace would have to marry him now. He had been inside
her. He had planted his seed in her womb. She could be carrying his
child. She would be mad beyond repair to refuse him now.

~ * ~

Grace lay still and stared at the
starless sky. Clouds drifted like blankets overhead, blocking even
the moonlight. Lord Alexander shifted at her side, and his gaze
felt like it was boring holes through her. She had no regrets over
what she had done. She couldn’t.

He’d driven away two of her demons.
Fears she didn’t even realize she had until they seized her in the
throes of passion.

But she had been terribly
afraid she would never enjoy the act of lovemaking. She never
expected to have a husband with whom to experience the act, other
than possibly Lord Barrow.
Perish the
thought
. And if not him, Grace would never
marry. It was as simple as that, in her mind.

No matter what her father thought of
her, Grace would never resort to selling herself. So with no
possibility of a husband, she had resigned herself to the fact that
this act—the act of love—was one aspect of a woman’s life she would
never encounter.

However afraid she might be she would
never share in the act of lovemaking, Grace had believed her other
fear was more likely to hold true. She believed that if she ever
took part in it, there would be no joy in it. She expected that,
for her, it would always be filled with pain and fear. Her only
possibility to experience the marriage bed would be with Barrow.
With him, there could only ever be fear. She had never imagined
such sensations to be possible as what she experienced just now
with Lord Alexander.

She exulted in his touch. She could
not remember a time in her life she felt as alive as she did when
he coupled with her. Grace determined to never forget that moment.
She would cherish it. It would be all she had of him,
soon.

No matter how much he
protested, she couldn’t marry him. She
wouldn’t
marry him. He deserved a
wife above reproach, one who hadn’t been tainted by a man’s need
for vengeance. One who was not considered a whore by her own
father. His wife should bear his children, not those of another
man. She should face her fears instead of running away from
them.

He slid a single finger over her arm.
The contact was so gentle, so tender, it threatened to shatter her.
She rolled away from him and fought tears. He couldn’t see her
weakness. And she wouldn’t allow him to interpret it as regret. He
needed to know nothing would change, even after what had just
passed between them.

“
Grace?” Her name was
scarcely more than a whisper on his lips. “Are you all
right?”

His concern washed over her like a
wave. Why must the man be so good, so honorable, so tender? It
would be much easier to continue as she must if he were a
scoundrel, a licentious rake—if he were more like Lord Barrow or
her father. She wanted anything but to cause him
heartache.

“
I’m fine.” She fought to
maintain a cool demeanor. She couldn’t let him see the
truth.

“
Who was he, Grace? Who
compromised you?” He slid a hand over hers, caressing her in
comforting strokes.

“
I cannot say, my lord.”
Lord Alexander couldn’t know. No one could know.

He faced her again, pain etched on his
brow. “Did he…? Were you ravished?”

She controlled her reactions, careful
not to let anything slip. “It is none of your concern, my
lord.”

His eyes flashed, and he
rose to fasten his breeches. “None of my concern? How is it
possible that the circumstances surrounding the compromise of my
future bride are
none of my
concern
?” he barked out. He paced across
the garden lawn, trailing a string of curses in his
wake.

“
I am not your future
bride, that’s how. My lord, nothing has changed. I will still not
have you, and you still cannot have me. We shared a moment—a lovely
moment, though we likely shouldn’t have done. I’m glad it can’t be
undone.” Why had she admitted as much to him?

She pulled up her drawers
and straightened her gown about her legs as she rose. “As I said
before, you would do better to move on. Find yourself a suitable
bride, a lady of good
ton
who has an intact reputation and does not need her
reputation salvaged. Find someone other than me. I bid you good
evening.”

She walked away from him, back to the
ballroom, back to Aunt Dorothea, and back to life as she would
always know it.

Without him.

Chapter
Fifteen

Alex watched Grace walk away and
fought the temptation to follow her. Ah, the cut direct. He would
grant her this moment of victory. “But I shall see you at the
altar, my dear.”

Her reputation would suffer even more
for returning to the ballroom alone, but that would soon enough be
repaired. Grace would be his wife. She just needed to understand
she had no alternative.

His determination that she needed his
protection grew stronger than ever. Since she had been compromised
before coming to Somerton, word of her disgrace might already be
all over London. For that matter, word could have spread to the
furthest outreaches of England.

There was no time to waste. He needed
to act, and quickly.

Since he already planned to travel to
London with Gil in the morning, he decided to continue with that
course of action. He would visit with the Marquess of Chatham and
explain the situation—short of some of the more sordid details of
their encounter. But he must make it clear she had been
compromised, and he intended to do the honorable thing and marry
her.

Alex needed to convince the marquess
that a marriage to him was the best option.

Convincing Grace could come
later.

He would obtain a special license in
London. Maybe Peter could do that for him. Alex had no idea how
difficult it might be to convince Chatham that he was the man his
daughter should marry. Sir Laurence had divulged little in their
interview, but he got the impression that he did not think highly
of Chatham.

Alex quit the Assembly Room without
looking back. He needed to prepare for the morning’s journey and to
think.

~ * ~

The road to London was difficult. The
entire southern part of the English countryside was experiencing a
torrential downpour during the three days Alex and Gil spent
traveling. Several times their carriage became stuck in muddy ruts,
so he had to assist the driver and footmen to free a wheel in the
rain. He felt like a blasted pig that had gleefully rolled around
in the sty.

On top of that, Gil’s illness
continued to grow worse. His coughing fits were more frequent and
more severe, and Alex often saw spots of blood on the viscount’s
handkerchief. There could be no more denials. He was certain his
friend suffered from consumption.

All the more reason he wished Gil
would have stayed in Somerset. Whether in Bath or in Somerton, Gil
would not be on the road to London and fighting his sickness in a
cold, wet, cramped carriage.

Alex worried.

He worried that the
viscount would not make it back to his beloved Roundstone Park. He
worried that the Marquess of Chatham would not see things his way.
He worried that he had left Grace with child. Not that he would
not
want
a child
with Grace. But there were already too many things making her life
difficult.

If the marquess were to deny him…Alex
shuddered. He must find a way to marry her. Someway, somehow, he
would marry her. He would drag the chit to Gretna Green against her
father’s wishes if he had to, but she would be his wife. He
wondered if he ought to have just taken Sir Laurence’s advice to
begin with, if perhaps the man had been trying to convey more to
him than his words implied.

But wondering would not solve
anything. He must follow through with his plan as he had it
formulated.

He would not leave her with her
reputation in its current state.

Travel seemed interminable. After
three dreadfully long days, they arrived in London. Alex had sent a
letter ahead to Peter once he decided to travel, informing his
family of their impending arrival. He did not disclose his reason
for the visit, just that they were coming. He wanted a room
prepared for Gil.

The viscount’s crested carriage rolled
through the streets as Gil slept and Alex nursed his thoughts. They
entered Mayfair well past dark, when most of society would be
taking part in balls or routs, and other sorts of entertainments.
Their presence went largely unnoticed.

Rotheby’s driver pulled his carriage
onto Grosvenor Square and stopped in front of Number Three,
Hardwicke House. Alex never felt so relieved to be home as he did
at that moment. He shook his friend awake. “Gil. We have arrived.
Let us go inside.”

A footman opened the door and let down
the stairs as Spenser, the butler of Hardwicke House, opened the
doors to the mansion Alex considered home.

Alex climbed down from his perch
before he assisted Gil down the steps. He half-carried the older
man inside.

“
Welcome home, Lord
Alexander. Shall I show you to the room I have prepared for Lord
Rotheby?” Spenser executed a very brief bow, obviously
understanding the urgency of seeing the viscount
settled.

“
Yes, Spencer, that would
be splendid.”

Alex followed the butler through the
halls of Hardwicke House, plagued by nostalgia. He had lived in
another world for the last few weeks, it seemed, as he had scarcely
thought of his family and their lives in London. He rarely even
thought of Priscilla and Harry.

It all rushed back to him now as he
saw the paintings on the walls and the usual signs of life in their
home. Scraps of his sisters’ embroidery were tossed willy-nilly on
tables and chairs in the morning parlor, Alex noted, and ledgers
were strewn across the desk in Peter’s library…the library he
usually kept impeccably neat and tidy, with nary a speck of dust or
a book out of place.

Spenser paused before the door to the
emerald suite as they waited for a liveried footman to open the
doors. Alex had requested this particular suite for the viscount in
his letter, as it would not require climbing a flight of stairs and
it tended to stay rather warm at night. He wanted Gil to be as
comfortable as possible.

He aided the viscount into an armchair
to sit. More footmen followed them into the room, unloading
Rotheby’s trunks from the carriage and setting them out for his
use.

“
My lords, I have assigned
Percy to operate as his lordship’s valet while you are in
residence. If, of course, this will suit.”

Alex glanced over to the man who
waited to assist. He remembered Percy had been in the military
before coming to Hardwicke House, and would likely have seen to the
wounds of a number of his fellow soldiers during those days. He
made a mental note to commend both Peter and Spenser on the
selection. Gil would need a good deal of supervision, and perhaps
medical attention, during their stay.

Gil coughed violently again and red
droplets stained his handkerchief. “Percy will be fine, Spenser,”
he rasped out after the fit ceased. The butler nodded and took his
leave as Gil turned to Alex. “I shall be quite well tonight, old
man. Off with you. Go see your family.” He flicked his hands and
shooed him on his way.

“
I will leave…but with
strict orders to Percy that I am to be informed immediately should
you need anything, Gil. You are a guest here. Remember
that.”

Alex made a pathetic attempt at a
lighthearted laugh, which came out more like a wheeze, and then
left the room.