A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (77 page)

Uncle Laurence sighed. “I cannot
promise you we’ll leave again in two days. There’s much we don’t
know, Dorothea.” Uncle Laurence rapped against the wall to signal
the driver they were settled and ready to leave. The carriage moved
forward with a creak and a groan.

Grace’s aunt turned away from him with
a loud “Hmph.” She stared out the window, making a point of not
looking at her husband.

~ * ~

The next day could not arrive soon
enough, as far as Alex was concerned.

When they had arrived at Hardwicke
House after the Yardley Court ball, Peter had insisted on allowing
Chatham some privacy and time alone. He sent everyone else away,
saying they could discuss everything in the morning. How he
expected Alex to leave the man be for such a long period of time,
when so many questions were left unanswered, he’d never
determine.

Morning seemed like an eternity
away.

Alex tossed and turned in his bed. He
wanted to speak with Chatham again, to ask him again for permission
to marry Grace. How could he rest without knowing Grace would
finally, truly be his? He was almost there. But not
quite.

By the time the sun began its ascent,
Alex hadn’t slept a wink. He tossed back the bedcovers and pounced
from the bed. He didn’t bother to dress before leaving his chamber
and heading to the breakfast room. Peter had better be there
already, if he knew what was best for him. In his hurry to start
the day, he nearly flew past the footman who stood before the door
to the breakfast room. The doors clanged open and he stalked
inside.

To find nothing. A few servants worked
to set the table, but no one else was present.

Alex was tempted to hunt down the
marquess himself and get things started without Peter. But he
didn’t know which guest room Chatham would be in, and more likely
than not, Peter would have forbidden the servants to inform him or
anyone else. Damn the man and his sense of decency and propriety.
He would have to hunt through Hardwicke House one room at a time to
find the damned man.

Since he couldn’t accost the marquess,
Alex decided he may as well begin with his brother. The footman
outside the door to the ducal chamber tried to block his progress,
but Alex’s determination won. He forced his way inside and slammed
the door behind him.

“
What in the name of Christ
are you doing, Alex?” Peter asked. “The sun isn’t even fully in the
sky and you’re pounding your way into my chamber. My
private
chamber, I might
remind you.”

Alex swept open the curtains and
allowed the rising sun to blind Peter, who pulled a pillow from
behind his head and placed it over his eyes.

“
It is morning. We need to
speak with Chatham.” Why was the world moving so damnably slow
today, just when he wanted life to move at its normal,
entirely-too-fast pace?

“
I doubt he’s out of bed
yet either.” Peter’s voice was muffled somewhat by the pillow. “Let
the man get some sleep. I spoke with him briefly last night before
I retired. He’s not gone anywhere, I assure you. It can
wait.”

“
It can’t wait. I can’t
wait. Get up.”

Alex pulled the blankets from the bed
with one hand, and grabbed hold of Peter’s ankle with the other,
giving a hard yank. Peter fell from the bed and landed on his
derrière with a loud thwack, the pillow still firm against his
eyes.

“
You arse.” Peter reached
out with one leg and knocked Alex to the floor.

“
Ow!” Alex rubbed his elbow
where it had smacked hard against the Parquet. “I suppose I
deserved that.”

“
You did.”

“
Apologies. But will you
please get up so we can begin the day?”

Peter glared in response. After long
moments, he stood and neatly replaced the pillow and blankets on
the bed. He tucked and fluffed and did any number of other tasks
that were unnecessary for a man to perform himself when he had more
servants at his beck and call than he ought to know what to do
with. “Go and eat your breakfast. I’ll be along in due time. I have
more important matters to see to than your impatience.”

Placing his pillows on the
bed
just
so
was more important than Alex’s
future? Than the fate of his future bride? Than seeing to it that
Chatham answered to everything that needed an answer? Alex mumbled
under his breath something similar to
I’ll
shove my breakfast down your throat
, which
earned him another ducal glare, but he stood and moved toward the
door.

“
And Alex?” Peter asked,
looking over his shoulder. “Don’t wake anyone else in this manner
or I’ll have your hide. Everything will be handled today in an
orderly manner. Chatham is now a guest in my home. You would do
well to remember that.”

Alex nodded in lieu of a response and
returned to the breakfast room. After his lack of sleep, and then a
raucous morning with Peter, he was ravenous. However hungry he may
be, though, nothing could quell his desire to speak with Grace’s
father. He needed to know. He must hear the words.

He pushed down the urge to search the
whole bloody house for the only man who could calm his nerves, then
he sat at the breakfast table with a heaping plate of food. Alex
could wait. He could bide his time. After all, with Barrow
essentially out of the picture, Chatham must see the benefits of an
alliance with the Hardwicke family.

Alex couldn’t conceive how the
marquess would refuse his suit now.

~ * ~

A messenger knocked at the door to
their hotel room as Grace settled down to luncheon with her aunt
and uncle. Uncle Laurence answered the door. “My lord, Chatham was
seen last night at the ball at Yardley Court,” the messenger said.
“He’s not returned home since.”

“
Is there any news of where
he might be?”

“
None, my lord.” The
messenger shifted from one foot to the other and scanned the room
over again.

“
Who was he seen with at
the ball?”

“
Lord Barrow. Possibly some
others. My source was not clear on that matter.”

Grace’s stomach dropped. Her father
was speaking with Barrow last night. Barrow was back in the
country.

In London.

Here.

Her teacup rattled against the saucer
in her hands, so she placed them on the table before her. Aunt
Dorothea looked at her inquisitively, so she tried to resume her
calm, serene demeanor.

Uncle Laurence cleared his throat. “I
need more information. Find out if he left with Barrow, and force
your source to tell you who else the marquess may have spoken with
at the ball. It’s imperative.” He passed some coins into the man’s
hands, then closed the door. Her uncle moved back into the parlor
and resumed his seat. “Well, we should know more soon.”

“
Laurence, I…” Aunt
Dorothea said, her usual garrulous constancy missing. “Should we
not return to Somerton? Lord Chatham can come there to collect
Gracie, if he wishes to keep a closer eye on her. There’s no reason
we ought to be here now, waiting on the man to appear. If he can’t
face us himself with his accusations, surely he realizes he has no
footing with them.” She blanched, and her voice verged on
desperation.

“
I’m sorry dear. I know
this is difficult for you. But we’ve traveled here, and so we’ll
wait.” He squeezed her hand. “Give the man a chance. Perhaps he’s
changed.”

Grace turned her head away so they
wouldn’t see her reaction. She brushed away the single tear that
fell from her eye. No, Father hadn’t changed. If he met last night
with Barrow, Grace would soon be married. But not to Lord
Alexander.

~ * ~

Alex was fit to be tied.

The entire morning had passed, and
still Peter allowed the marquess to remain locked away in his
chamber. Nothing could be solved without at least conversing with
the man, so why hesitate?

His family sat around him in the
dining room, preparing for luncheon. Derek and Sir Jonas had also
joined the family, as they often did while in London, and Gil had
even ventured out from the privacy of his chamber for some company.
Gil sat next to Sir Jonas, and they were having a quiet discussion
amongst themselves. Conversation sprinkled about the room, with
delighted mirth emanating from his sisters as Sophie filled Char in
on all the details from the ball the previous evening.

And Alex seethed. Heat rose from his
head until it had to be visible to the rest of his family, with
little trails of steam trailing upward to the ceiling.

“
Lord Leith created quite
the little bit of gossip last night when he danced three sets will
Miss Faulkner,” Sophie gushed to Char, whose eyes widened to
saucers. “She swears to me that he’s practically a brother to her
and there’s nothing there, so there’s no reason for anyone to talk.
But I’m not so sure…”

“
She’s already well on the
shelf, so I don’t know why anyone would gossip about her anyway,”
Charlotte said. “She’s far longer in the tooth than
you.”

“
Charlotte,” Mama warned
with narrowed eyes.

“
It’s true,” Charlotte
muttered.

Sophie raised a brow. “Miss Faulkner
and Lord Leith dancing three sets in a night is no more scandalous
than it would be for me and Lord Sinclaire to dance three sets in a
night.”

Derek hastily looked away from her,
feigning interest in a gilded rococo plasterwork design on the far
wall.

“
Does that mean this has
happened?” Alex growled. Derek may well be his closest friend, but
he wouldn’t stand for such behavior with his sister.

“
It doesn’t matter one whit
if it has,” Sophie replied and kicked Alex beneath the
table.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed,
glaring.

“
Let her go,” Peter said.
“Don’t take your anger out on your sister. For that matter, it’s
high time you quit your brood.”

“
Quit my brood,” Alex
ground out. “I’ll quit brooding when there’s good reason to quit.
Not before.”

Derek stifled a laugh, but then
quickly sobered.

“
And what do you find so
funny?” Alex’s belligerence threatened to explode. “Maybe you
should leave.”

“
Alex!” Sophie said. “Lord
Sinclaire is practically family. You ought not to treat him
so.”

“
Why not? You just kicked
me beneath the table. And apparently he’s been dragging your
reputation through the mud while I’ve been away. I haven’t laid a
hand on the insolent bastard, although if he does not remove the
grin from his face in the next moment or two I’ll see to it he has
no reason to smile.”

Mama raised her hand for peace.
“Children, if you do not start behaving as the adults you seem to
believe you are, I’ll send you all to the nursery and let Mrs.
Pratt deal with the lot of you.” She turned to their guests. “I
apologize. It seems my offspring have forgotten their
manners.”

As the footmen entered to serve
luncheon, Chatham came through the opposite door. “I apologize for
my tardy arrival, Your Grace.” He executed a miniscule bow first to
Mama and then to Peter.

Peter stood to greet him. “There’s no
need for an apology. Please, join us.” He indicated a chair between
Derek and the dowager. Silence prevailed as Chatham joined the
table. The sibling squabbles disappeared as though
forgotten.

A twitch formed behind Alex’s eye. He
filled his plate and tried to eat, but his appetite had fled. He
should wait to speak with Chatham. It would be an improper
conversation to have with his entire family present. And if
negotiations turned south, he didn’t want Mama or his sisters to
hear the foul language which might spew from his lips. They
deserved his respect.

He didn’t heed his own advice. “Lord
Chatham,” he said, “I understand why you rejected my suit toward
your daughter yesterday, but would you not agree circumstances have
changed in my favor?”

He could kick himself.

He needn’t bother. Sophie took care of
that for him. He winced in pain. She hit the exact same spot as
earlier. He leveled another glare at her across the table, and her
eyes issued a threat of more violence.

Chatham chewed and swallowed, then
took a drink before speaking. “How so? You are aren’t suddenly
titled. You have no property. How are you more suitable
today?”

“
I referred to the
situation with Lord Barrow more than to my own position. Surely a
connection to the Hardwicke family, to the Duke of Somerton, would
prove desirable. Besides, any further association with Barrow would
only open you up to investigation as well.”

“
Bah. I’ll find some other
man for her. She’s a prize, you know. Nonetheless—” He stopped
himself and looked around for a moment. “I apologize, there are
ladies present. I assume you know to what I refer and I don’t need
to speak the words out loud.” He took another bite of his pheasant
and didn’t bother to swallow before he continued. “There’s no
reason for me to entertain your pursuit.”