To Seduce an Earl (42 page)

Grace lifted her head and met his gaze. A shiver of awareness wavered through his body. The cottage had changed. The thatched roof had long ago been repaired. The floorboards had been replaced. Furniture had been purchased. The gardens trimmed. Even he had changed, taking on a more optimistic view on life. How could he not when he had Grace, a family, a life?

He had a family now. A charmingly delightful daughter who was perfect in every way and as intelligent as her Mama. A son who was the most good-natured babe he’d ever seen, always smiling, never cross. He even thought of Patience as his family and worried about her as he would his own sister.

An adult now, she deserved a season in London, but proclaimed she hadn’t the slightest desire to wear ball gowns and act the ninny. She was quite content to stay here, and why wouldn’t she be? But Grace wanted Patience to find love and so far her only prospects were the local butcher’s son who was a good head shorter than she and liked to talk in grotesque detail about butchering techniques. Somehow he’d find a way to send Patience to London, at least for one season.

But one thing hadn’t changed… Grace. She was still so lovely that when she looked at him, his breath caught in his chest. Still so beautiful that she rarely saw the negative side of life. And he still was completely and madly in love with her.

Daisies brushed against her blue skirts as she spun her forget-me-not ring around and round her finger. Alex had wanted to buy her something new, something larger and more expensive. Grace had wanted to keep her ring…a piece of jewelry that she said represented more than anything else ever could…love.

As she moved through the open gate, the sunlight glinted off her dark hair, highlighting the auburn. His heart swelled with love.

“Mama!” Hope called out, scrambling from his arms.

Grace knelt in the garden, the wind tugging at the loose tendrils framing her face. Laughing, she caught Hope in her arms and held her close. Alex couldn’t help but smile over the picture they made. He could stand there all day, watching them.

“Has the mail arrived?” Patience asked.

“Yes, inside.”

She rushed into the cottage.

As she stood, Grace’s gaze shifted from Alex, to Julian. “Why are you awake? You’re supposed to be taking a nap.”

Alex tried to look serious. “He was crying, I couldn’t resist.”

Grace quirked a brow. “Our son never cries.”

“There is a first time for everything, and he looked decidedly as if he
might
cry.”

Grace moved toward them, Hope skipping after her. “Well then, you had to pick him up!” She brushed her hand over Julian’s downy head, then leaned into Alex, pressing her lips to his.

“I can’t believe the
ton
have started wearing our jewelry,” Patience declared, brushing by them and hopping with glee down the front steps. “Look! A new order from a jeweler in London!” She held out a letter for the briefest of moments and then clutched it to her chest.

“That reminds me,” Alex said. “There is a new basket of shells by the gate.”

“There is!” Patience spun around and rushed toward the stone wall to study her treasure.
 

It had been Grace’s brilliant idea to take the shells they’d found and make jewelry from the polished insides. Alex had swallowed his pride and sent a piece to his mother. She’d worn it to a ball and the business had taken off quite well. Alex hunted for the pieces. Grace and Patience made them. Patience provided the face for the business. The girl was surprisingly persuasive.

Between the money they were making with their jewelry and Alex’s inheritance, they were better off than ever before. Yet, they wouldn’t move onto greener pastures. No, he and Grace were quite content in their little cottage by the sea. If they needed more room, which they would very soon indeed, they’d add on.

This was home. This was the place where Julian, Hope and Patience thrived. Where Grace’s Mama had spent her last years in peace. Where he and Grace had started to live, truly
live
.

“Gracie,” Patience called out. “Do you mind if I dig up a patch of forget-me-nots? I’d like to take some inside to study the blooms for a new necklace design.”

“No,” Grace said, smoothing a finger over her own ring and smiling in a dreamy way that delighted Alex. “Of course not.”

“Can I help?” Hope raced after Patience. She adored her aunt and constantly followed at her heels, giving Alex and Grace much desired time alone.
 

“He’s sleeping,” Grace whispered.

Sure enough, Julian’s eyes were closed. Alex moved into the parlor and settled him in the cradle. At almost a year old, he was getting rather large for the cradle.

Grace followed, gazing down at their son with pure adoration. “He’s so beautiful, so perfect. So like his father.”

Alex stood, taking her into his arms, grateful for any moment alone with his wife. “I think it’s time to add a room or two onto the cottage. I thought perhaps we could build a bedchamber and sitting area onto the downstairs for Patience. She could have her own space.”

Grace lifted a brow. “You’re sure you wish to spend the money?”

He grinned. “I think we’ll need the space.”

She laughed. “How long have you known?”

“Three weeks.”

“I’ve only known for two weeks!”

He pulled her up flush to his body and kissed her quickly. “You think I don’t know you?” He leaned down, pressing his lips to her ear. “The fullness of your breasts. The way you cringed when I made eggs this morn. Going to bed early, sleeping late.”

“Are you saying you know me better than I know myself?”

“Perhaps.” He grinned.
 

She parted her lips to respond with something biting and wry, no doubt, but fortunately for him, Patience interrupted.

“Gracie! Alex!”

Reluctantly, Grace turned away. “What is she screeching about?”

They moved to the open door. Patience knelt by the large elm tree, a carpet of tiny blue flowers at her feet, Hope at her side.

“What is it?” Grace asked.

She glanced over her shoulder, her brows pinched together in confusion, a small shovel in hand. “I’ve found something.”

Alex slid Grace a glance and she laughed. It wasn’t the first time Patience had “found something.” It was always, of course, a great treasure, until the object was completely uncovered. An old shoe. A rusty pail. Alex took her hand and they strolled unconcerned toward the two girls.

“What is it?” Grace asked again.

“A… box of some sort.” Patience brushed the dirt from her hands and shifted over as Alex knelt beside her.
 

“Treasure,” Hope squealed, hopping up and down so her blue dress flared like flower petals on the wind.

Grace sighed and he knew what she was thinking. Hope’s first word hadn’t been Mama, nor even Papa. No, Patience had taught Hope how to say
treasure
and the word had stuck. Alex pulled the box from the ground and brushed off the loose dirt. It wasn’t particularly decorative, merely a wooden box slightly longer than his forearm.

“Shall I open it?” Patience asked, brushing off the lid.

Alex stood and wrapped his arm around Grace’s waist. “Sure, why not.” He leaned toward Grace and nuzzled her hair. “Are you feeling well?” Julian wasn’t quite a year old and already Grace was carrying another. Perhaps it was too soon.

She grinned up at him, completely unconcerned. “Of course.”

“Oh my,” Hope whispered.

At the odd tone of her voice, Grace and Alex turned. “What is it?”

“Grace…” Patience looked up, her eyes wide. “Remember how you wanted to make improvements to the cottage?”

“Yes.” Grace moved around Hope, settling on the grass next to Patience.

“I think you can now.”

There, in the box, lay golden coins…pearls… jewels. Their brilliance was not dulled with age, but caught the light and sparkled to life.

Grace gasped, resting her hand on her chest. “It can’t be.” She looked up at Alex, who stood frozen, too shocked to move. “Alex, it was here all along! The treasure is real!”

For days they’d searched for that bloody treasure. And now… now he was sadly lacking in enthusiasm. Certainly money was a welcome gift, yet he wasn’t as excited as he should have been. Those years ago, the treasure had consumed his thoughts, had been of upmost importance. Now… now he had everything he needed.

“Pretty,” Hope cooed and knelt, grabbing a fist full of jewelry.

“So I’m not imagining it,” Patience whispered.
 

“No,” Alex replied. “It’s real. The treasure is real.”

“We can search for more!” Patience jumped to her feet. “Just think, it could be anywhere.” She raced around the tree, under and over branches until her skirts got caught.

Grace stood. “No.”

Patience froze. “But…”

Grace shook her head. “No. You may search, Patience, if you wish. The treasure is wonderful and we can certainly use the money,” She looked up at Alex, her gaze soft and loving. “But I won’t waste my time searching when I already have my treasure.”

Alex’s heart constricted.

Patience sighed and started through the trees. “Very well.” She didn’t understand, but how could she? She was young. She’d never been this content. She’d never been in love.

“Do you mean it?” Alex asked, drawing her close, neither barely noticing as Hope played with the pretty jewels, tossing them about like they were rose petals at a wedding.

“I do mean it. We have everything we need, Alex. Everything.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes, kissing him. It was a soft and gentle kiss. All too soon she was stepping back.

“You could wear satins… velvets—”

“I’d rather wear nothing and spend time with you.”

Alex grinned. “Nothing?”

“Indeed.”

“Patience,” Alex called. “Do you mind taking Hope along on your treasure hunt?”

Patience sighed long and loud through the trees. “Oh fine, but really, you two should wait until you’re inside for that.”

“Very well.” Alex scooped Grace up into his arms and started toward the cottage door.

********

The End

Interested in more historical romance? Read an excerpt of
A Night of Secrets!

By Lori Brighton

Not a sound interrupted the silence. No creak. No groan. No footsteps or whispered words. The house, along with its occupants, slept.

Meg lay on her side, cold but afraid to do more than stare at the dying fire. The embers in the hearth peered at her like demon eyes, hissing and sputtering to stay alive but there was no reason to stoke the flames. She wouldn’t be here to enjoy their warmth.

Exhaustion weighed down on her body and mind, murmuring sweet words of relief. How desperately she wanted to sink into the world of unconsciousness, to forget the day, to forget her worries. Instead, she pushed herself upright, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the bed.

She waited, waited for her pulse to slow, for her mind to clear. Her heart beat, ticking a rhythm that matched the porcelain clock under the glass dome on the mantel. She could taste freedom, feel it in her bones. It’d be easy enough to escape, although once outside, her destination remained an elusive mystery. She’d worry about that later.

Steeling her resolve, she stood. Her body trembled, the glowing coal blurred before her eyes. Her body felt heavy, sobbing for reprieve. She let her lashes drift down for the briefest of moments and leaned against the bed post. From somewhere downstairs a clock bonged, the low rumble announcing the time to be a little past three.

In a mere two hours, the farmers would be in their fields. She had to leave now, or she’d never make it past the community’s watchful gaze. With renewed determination, she stumbled forward and the room spun, her body protesting and making her waver on her feet.

“Come on, Meg, you can do this,” she whispered.

Like crickets on a warm summer evening, her mind buzzed. She narrowed her eyes, forcing her senses to focus. She’d travel the few hours until daylight and then hide somewhere. The thought of resting her weary head propelled her forward.
  

Her trembling fingers fumbled with the handle until the door popped open. If she was quick, she might have time to stop home, gather supplies and run. She peeked into the hall. Moonlight slanted through the window at the end of the corridor, splashing the area in an eerie blue. No footmen stood guard outside her room. Had Grayson been bluffing?