Love Inspired Historical January 2015 Box Set: Wolf Creek Father\Cowboy Seeks a Bride\Falling for the Enemy\Accidental Fiancee (88 page)

“I am delighted to make your acquaintance, my lady,” he said, with an aside to Brandon, “at last.”

Brandon laughed outright. “Once you hear all that she has been up to of late, you will soon understand the delay.”

“My lord, I am very glad to meet you, as well. Can I convince you to call me Grace, sir? I assure you I answer more readily to it.” Brandon thought her smile could charm the spots off of a leopard. “Unlike you, I have only known about you for a short period of time, but I am no less pleased.”

“Tell me, young lady, have you and Brandon set a date as of yet? I own it will break the hearts of many who have had their sights set on this rake.” Langdon leaned in a little closer and said, “Though I suspect we both know that it is nothing but a front. He thinks it makes him more dashing.”

Grace laughed in pure pleasure. “After yesterday, my lord, I am quite at a loss as to how he keeps it up.” She began to tap her chin with one finger. “I suppose one kiss of the hand or a well-turned compliment
could
keep up the pretense, and he is certainly not stingy with either. Yet there must be
something
else that makes him notorious. I suppose I must study the beast a bit more in his own habitat!” The twinkle in her green eyes made both of them laugh.

Brandon noticed she completely ignored the question about the wedding date, and he was proud of her. “Very well, you two, you have had enough pleasure at my expense,” he interjected. “You both already know me, and I wish you to know each other.”

“I own I am quite at a loss over the pointed remarks about the event of yesterday. Am I to be informed or shall I hazard a guess, my boy?”

Brandon noticed the surprise on Grace's face at Lord Langdon's informal address. “Sir, I believe you will be shocked to hear that Grace, completely alone and without anyone's foreknowledge, visited the orphanage on Baxter Street.”

“What?” the elderly man exclaimed, one of the only times Brandon had ever heard him speak in anything but a calm manner.

“My sentiments exactly, my lord. And as you know, I had not as yet shared word of our endeavors previous to her visit.”

Brandon knew his lordship's interest in Grace would now become eminently more serious. “Am I ever to be told the circumstances surrounding this astounding information, or was this recounted solely to remove several years from my life?”

Brandon began to speak. “You will not credit it, I know, but—”

Lord Langdon stopped him with a raised hand. “Son, do you mind if I hear it from the lady? Should you tell it, I would no doubt get your feelings on the matter at each detail, and I believe I can imagine
them
on my own!” He smiled to remove the sting.

Then he turned to Grace. He led her to a sofa covered in blue brocade and sat down beside her. “May I ask you first, my dear, why you sought the orphanage out?”

She hesitated and Brandon wondered why.

“My lord, God tells us to love one another, but He specifically tells us to take care of widows and orphans.”

Brandon held his breath. He had forgotten to warn her about the openness she had about her faith.

“Since coming to London, I was reminded of the Season when I came out. The elegance and opulence awed me then. This time, I am wiser and a little grieved at the money we spend, no,
waste
every day on things that really do not matter, not to mention the time devoted to frivolous concerns that benefit no one. I made a vow to myself that on this visit I would give back in some way, make better use of my time and money. My sister and I started a very,
very
modest home for orphans in our county who lost fathers in the war. So it is what I knew.”

Lord Langdon stared at her intensely and Brandon, though wishing she had not brought God into it, prepared himself to do battle on her behalf.

It was not necessary.

“My dear girl, God must have smiled at your actions.”

Brandon was taken aback. He had never seen his friend so touched before. He reached over and grasped her hand, speaking soft words of wonder from his heart.

Brandon had seen small indications of a spiritual side to the man, but his lordship seemed so much more touched by what Grace had told him. How prevalent was this idea of living your life for an all-powerful God?

He was brought back to the conversation at hand. “No, my lord, nothing about that place brought glory to Him. Indeed, it only emphasized the degradation we can fall into if left to our own devices.”

“How very true, my child. I hope Brandon was able to relieve your fears on that score.”

“Oh, yes, my lord. I left there with such feelings of despair, but when he took me to Mrs. Dickerson...”

Brandon watched her as she relived her experience of the day before. This time his anger and worry were gone and he actually
heard
her. There was such an intimate understanding between them as they talked.

She radiated graciousness and
gracefulness.
He had thought her name a little old-fashioned upon first learning it, but he now associated it with the person that she was, not what she was called.

It was the first time Brandon had simply watched her for any length of time, and he was riveted. He heard her careful retelling of the story, but he
saw
a depth to her caring that she attributed to her God. And Lord Langdon understood her completely. This visit had given him much to think about.

His thoughts changed as they shot him a sideways glance. She was now telling about their incredulous run-in with the three miscreants. Miscreants? How could she use that word for men who were nothing but thatchgallows and would have killed them without a second thought? Ah! She was making fun of herself, and Lord Langdon appreciated her descriptiveness. When she began to make fun of
him
, the two laughed themselves almost to tears. He was again filled with pride for her.

“More fun at my expense. I would not wish to give you both set-downs.”

“I say we let him try, my lady,” Langdon murmured. The pair gazed at him innocently.

“Perhaps his lordship would like to hear the truth now?” Brandon looked at them with one eyebrow raised. “I noticed she did not include any details about her conversations with suits of armor or deaf butlers.”

“No, indeed she did not,” Langdon said with an endearing smile and gentle tone. “One day, Brandon, when I am dandling your firstborn on my knee, I shall ask you for your version of the tale.”

Grace's brows furrowed for a moment and he feared she would lose her composure. But though she blushed, she smiled and said, “My lord, I believe you must ask him sooner than that or the story will have been embellished to the point where there were a dozen attackers and I not even present!”

Very soon after, they took their leave, and Brandon did not miss the message in Lord Langdon's eyes that they had much to talk about. He kissed Grace's hand and sincerely asked her to come and visit him again.

“My lord, you have been most gracious and I shall look forward to our next meeting.” She shyly brought her other hand up to hold his with both of hers. “God bless you, sir, for what you are doing for those little ones.” With glowing eyes, she added, “That you all give so much without the least desire for accolades speaks more highly of you than any words I can express.”

As Brandon drove Grace back to her home, there was an easy silence between them. For a while she hummed the song Lydia had given him the name of. He could not remember it, but he was beginning to like it. As he lifted her down, he said, quietly, “Thank you, Grace.”

“Whatever for, my lord?”

“For being who you are. I know of no other woman of my acquaintance, and very few men, I would have taken to meet Lord Langdon. You captivated him, as you captivated me on
our
first meeting!”

“I will remind you that you disliked me intensely at our first meeting, but I liked him so very much. Truth be told, much more than I liked you at first.”

She smiled at him with an ease he was glad they had reached, and he kissed her hand as he said, “Impudent minx!”

“I am very glad to know that when I am back at the Abbey, you will have such a man in your life. You deserve the respect and admiration he has for you.”

She twisted away and ran up the stairs, past Jamison, before he could say anything further.

Back at the Abbey?
For some reason, those words ruined what had been a wonderful day.

Chapter Twelve

T
he two weeks that followed were both a boon and a penance to Grace's soul. She stored in her mind each drive, each dance, each shared look and wonderful moment of laughter with Brandon, to call upon when her future seemed lonely. The time had come to end the betrothal; she had fallen in love with Brandon Roth.

She had finally met the equivalent of Max, in the flesh. The man she could actually marry. What was worse, she was betrothed to him, but could never marry him. And what seemed so strange was that should she decide she did not want to go home, he would keep his word and marry her. It was the first time she really understood what he meant each time he told her not to worry about her conscience, they
were
betrothed.

But she would not do that.

His reputation mattered not; she knew the man he was inside. She did not care that he snubbed his nose at Society, because she had come to see that they expected it of him—and she was not at all convinced that Society truly deserved him. She had found a man she respected, trusted and loved more than she thought she could ever love any man, and she had to leave before her heart broke completely.

But each time she tried to broach the subject; he brushed it aside or told her they should hold off until after Lydia's ball. Therefore, Grace tucked away each memory for safekeeping.

They spent considerable time with Lydia and Lord Hendricks. Grace's prayers for her sister had been answered. Her suitor loved her so much and she positively glowed in response to it. Grace would not have thought it possible that Lydia could be more beautiful, but love matured her. She was not a shy chit just out of the schoolroom any longer; she was a confident young woman knowing her future promised the realization of her dreams. And though it was everything she had ever wanted for her sweet sister, sometimes it was hard to watch, because now
she
knew how it felt.

There was little time to dwell on it and for that she was thankful. The ball for Lydia was only days away and there always seemed to be something to do. Aunt Aggie could not contain her joy when Lord Hendricks requested permission to write to Lord Pennington. It would no longer just be a come-out ball; it would be a betrothal ball, for
both
her nieces! She predicted it would go down in history as the Season her girls caught two of London's most eligible bachelors. What a coup! Grace hated that she would not actually see that come to fruition.

So she accepted Brandon's request to postpone the demise of their engagement, if only to allow Aunt Aggie joy for the nonce. But as the ball drew nearer, Grace dreaded it more and more. She was on edge, anxious and more than a little overwrought. They would officially announce
her
betrothal, as well, never knowing it was set to be dissolved very soon. And while she wanted the engagement to end, she knew it meant her time with Brandon would be over.

When the night of the ball arrived, Grace stared at herself in the mirror and wondered what Brandon would think of her. There was no getting around it; everything seemed to revolve around his opinion. She had never worried about such nonsense before, and it rankled a little. Regardless, it was important to her that on one of the last nights he would ever see her, she might one day be a sweet memory to him.

She wore a green silk gown, happy that her age permitted the color. She worried a little that even at her age
this
green might be a little beyond the pale. The waist was Empire, the accepted norm now, but there was nothing ordinary about the dress. It had long sleeves and the square cut bodice was perhaps a little lower than she was accustomed to, but nothing compared to those of others she saw every night at every event they attended.

The overdress was a sheer green gauze with sparkling emeraldlike stones haphazardly strewn, as if the modiste had let them slip through her fingers and then attached them where they landed. The effect was what had drawn Grace to the gown. Since the stones were the same color as the underdress, they were barely noticeable until she moved. Between the silk below and the gems atop, shards of green reflected the candlelight, rendering an effect that was both surprising and graceful.

That was her hope, at any rate. The gown was of a simple style and she was afraid it would not look to others as it did to her. She worried that it would not impress anyone, much less Brandon.

She tied up her hair with a green velvet ribbon and let the length fall in a cascade of curls at the back of her head. She wore only a single strand of pearls and decided she would be happy with the result. She would not begin to be taken in by this modern day Babylon. She would appreciate what she had.

As the ladies gathered in the drawing room, waiting for Brandon to arrive, Aunt Aggie's spirits were high, Lydia seemed thoughtful and Grace felt agitated. She could not shake the myriad of emotions plaguing her.

“Must we do this, Aunt?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, my dear.”

“But the betrothal is so widely known, it will seem like we are seeking attention. And I do not wish to infringe on Lydia's special night.”

“Oh, Grace!” Lydia cried. “
Infringe?
What a horrid word. I wish to
share
the night with you!”

“I vow no one will ever be able to top this night!” Aunt Aggie exclaimed in anticipation.

With those words, the door to the drawing room opened and Grace turned her head, expecting Lord Weston's arrival. The surprise that met her eyes, however, made her cry out in shock, “Father!”

“Father, what on earth are you doing here? We had no idea of your coming,” Lydia said, running to put her arms around his neck.

“By all that's incredible, you
should
have expected it. I may not find the same allure in London that everyone else does, but it would seem rather shabby did I not show up for my own daughters' betrothal ball.” He walked farther into the room. “You could have knocked me over with a feather after receiving two requests for permission to marry my daughters. Of course I am come.” He sat down next to Grace on the sofa. “Max looks pretty good still, what?”

“Well, well, well,” her aunt said, stepping forward with her arms akimbo, “Robert Endicott finally doing the right thing by his daughters. Will wonders never cease?”

As the two of them started one of their time-honored battles, Grace went to sit beside Lydia. “You
do
realize I am seriously in the suds now?”

“Oh, Grace, I think it is wonderful that Father is here.”

“Have you forgotten?” Grace asked, looking over her shoulder. “There are many who surmise I met Brandon through their shared interest in two-hundred-year-old artifacts. As he reminds me daily, they
are
both interested in history, but most people will assume they have met!”

“Grace, with all the excitement, might it go unnoticed?”

There was a short knock on the door, then Jamison entered and announced Lord Weston in a stately manner. The butler could also be heard muttering about certain people appearing without his knowledge, and that he didn't think he could abide two people talking to a piece of armor as if it were real.

“Excuse me, Father, Aunt Aggie,” Grace almost shouted, as she rushed to keep Brandon from coming into the room. Over her shoulder she said, “I must speak with Lord Weston alone for a moment.”

“It appears you have grown lax with age, Agatha,” her father stated. “Betrothed or not, I think politeness requires the lad present himself first.”

Grace ran headlong into Brandon's chest just outside the doors of the drawing room, and he grabbed her arms to steady her. “Now that is the kind of enthusiasm I like to see, my sweet life,” he teased, and quickly kissed the tip of her nose. “I knew you would get the lay of this eventually!”

“Oh, dear, do not tease me now, Brandon. We have a serious problem.” She took his arm, pulling him into the library, where there was a low fire burning and only a few candles lit.

She did not realize what the glow of those few flames did to her gown and skin, but she noticed the marked change in Brandon as he stared at her with a look she had never seen before.

“What is it, have I broken out in spots?” She put a hand to her forehead. “Come to think of it, I would not be in the least bit surprised!”

“You really don't know, do you?” he asked, his voice lowering as he came closer. He removed his greatcoat, which Jamison had forgotten to take from him in the foyer. “You have been living in the shadow of your sister for so long that you do not realize how absolutely beautiful you are. And for some reason, you do not expect me to notice, either. My sweet life,” he whispered, “that dress makes your eyes so green a man could gaze into them for an eternity.”

Grace blushed and looked at him shyly. He had not called her “love” for a while now. He had begun to call her his “sweet life” more often. What did that mean? Oh, dear, she remembered her father!

“Blast!” she exclaimed, and Brandon stopped in surprise.

“My compliments usually lead to a more...intimate response, but it should not surprise me that you would react differently than others.” He leaned back against the mantel, noticeably perturbed.

She was instantly contrite. She had wanted just this response to her appearance from him. But she had to be practical; she always had to be practical. “My lord, an hour ago I would have given the world to hear you say those words, true or not. I was so worried about letting you down. I thank you, truly. But we have a bigger problem and I need to put you on your guard.” She began to pace. “You will never guess who just arrived, not five minutes ago, and announced his intention of attending the ball.”

“Hmm, I have just given a woman the most sincere compliment I have ever given to anyone, and she wants to play guessing games. Maybe rakes
do
lose their touch.”

She loved him when he was like this. Despite the frustration it sometimes caused her, she thought his sense of the ridiculous one of his best features. But she could not tell whether he was being facetious or was truly hurt by her words. “I am sorry. I did not mean to take your compliment lightly. I am so pleased you think I will do tonight. You look very handsome, too, you know.” She looked past him for a moment and said in a lower voice, “But then, you always do.”

She shook herself. “It is just the most wretched thing.
Father
is here!”

“Ah, now I begin to understand. Have no worries, I have gotten out of tighter spots than this, and once was with you! We will come about. May we now return the subject to you and me?” he asked, ignoring her concerns. “I did not mean that you will
do
tonight.” He raised her chin with his finger and whispered, “I meant that you will be the most dazzling woman in London tonight.”

She became shy and lowered her eyes. “You are a dear, strange man, but you have not yet seen Lydia, my lord. I would not commit myself too early, were I you.” When she raised her eyes to his with a smile, she realized she had made a serious mistake.

“Grace Endicott, listen to me.” He pulled her toward him, his grip on her shoulders tight. “I grow weary of the comparison you make between you and your sister. You are too intelligent to think there is only one kind of beauty. The beauty you have is not the same as Lydia's, but it is beauty nonetheless. And that you are beautiful has little to do with the real you. One may think so at first glance, only to discover a mind, humor and those incredible eyes.” He was staring at her as if he could see into her soul.

It was the most beautiful compliment she had ever received. That it came from the man she loved to distraction caused her heart to do very unusual things. Her eyes filled with tears. She had not known that words alone could cause such a sensation. Could she truly believe him or must she remember that a rake knew exactly what a woman wanted to hear?

He did not say anything further, but set her aside. He went to his greatcoat and took something out of a pocket. He came back and stood before her with a velvet box lying in his palm. “I have something for you and I believe you will complement them as no other would.”

Grace watched as he opened the box, then stared in amazement at the emerald necklace and earrings she found there. They were the most astonishing stones she had ever seen, and the setting was beyond anything she could have imagined. They matched the ring perfectly. Somehow she'd thought that the family heirlooms would be ostentatious, if not downright pretentious. With no bark upon it, she had assumed the necklace would be a very large, square-cut emerald pendant, heavy enough to choke a horse.

But it was not. It was amazing!

A small square-cut emerald surrounded by diamonds was reproduced every inch or so, with smaller diamonds in between each emerald. It was not a heavy piece at all, but a choker that fit tightly around the neck.

She took the earrings and clipped them onto her lobes. Then she turned her back to him and, lifting tendrils of her hair, asked, “Will you put it on me, please?”

She knew it would take the wind out of his sails; he would be expecting a fight. But she had lost all sense of practicality for the moment and could not wait to show the jewels to him...on her.

He took the choker out of the box, and she thought his fingers were shaking slightly as he laid the box on the table. He reached around her, his hands brushing her neck, then hooked the clasp at the back. She turned to face him. It took all her bravery to ask, “How do they look?”

He was so handsome as she gazed up at him, she wanted the engagement to be real. She pretended it was.

“For the moment, I can only admire the reflection from the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen.”

She continued to gaze at him; actually, she could not drag her eyes from his. “If the rest of London ever saw you look at me as you do now, no one would doubt our betrothal.”