Confessions of Lady Grace

by Rachel Ann Smith

  He drummed his fingers on the wood. “Merely waiting for you to return.”

  “It’s late. I’ll assist you back to your rooms.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, which was hard and tense.

  Clear, all-knowing eyes looked up at her. “Not before you tell me the outcome of your meetings with Harrington and Ellingsworth.”

  Good lord, she’d have to be more circumspect. If Burke were to hear gossip, it would place everyone in jeopardy. Grace took a seat on the bench opposite her papa and laced her hands on the tabletop. “They both share the same objective, to be rid of Lord Burke…”

  “And to see to it that you are compromised.” His eyebrows were knitted severely.

  “What?”

  “Child. Your gown is ripped, and you are wearing Ellingsworth’s coat. Which of those two scoundrels shall I be calling out to meet me at dawn?”

  “Neither. You said it was your wish for me to marry Harrington and for me to aid Ellingsworth, and I intend to do both.”

  “How do you mean to go about that?”

  Her half-formulated ideas hardly constitute a scheme that would pass muster with her papa, but it was all she had at the moment. “I have a plan.”

  Her papa raised both eyebrows and resumed drumming his fingers.

  She’d simply have to be brief and to the point. “I’m going to convince Matthew to hand over the crown jewels to Hadfield.”

  “How?”

  “By telling him to do the honorable thing and marry me. But in order to do that, he needs to relinquish the treasure.”

  “Your scheme has more holes than cheesecloth.”

  That was not the response she was anticipating. She had basically confessed to having been compromised by Matthew, and all her papa could speak of was cheesecloth. Her head rolled forward. It wasn’t a precise strategy, but with a few hours of thought, she’d figure it all out. On a sigh, Grace said, “If you return to your chambers, I will adjourn to the study and work on the finer points of my plan.”

  He patted her hands. “I assume you will be holed up for hours. I’ll have your mama take me for my early-morning walk.” The bench scraped against the floor as he rose, and he placed a kiss upon the top of her head. “I have faith in you, Gracie girl. All shall work out.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Three damn days.

  It wasn’t by far the longest span of time he’d spent apart from Grace, yet the past seventy-plus hours had been a living hell for Matthew. He wavered between hope for a future with the woman he would love until his last breath and fear that she would discover he was no longer the man she once loved. She deserved more than the skeleton of a man he had become. It had been a mistake to take Grace into his arms again. Her moans of delight, her soft body rocking against his, reminded him of how it used to be. No, not a mistake. He’d been transported back in time to the period in his life when everything made sense and wasn’t filled with dark, terrifying moments.

  “I see you’ve started drinking without me.” Blake strolled into the study. “You’re not still dwelling over Grace’s most recent note, are you?” He grabbed the empty glass from Matthew’s hands and walked toward the sidebar, which now housed a half-empty decanter of brandy.

  Bending to rest his forearms on his knees, Matthew clasped his empty hands firmly together. If not, they would no doubt begin to shake. “I fully understand the risks if we were to be caught together, but to have all communications be routed through Theo is rather extreme.”

  “I disagree. For your scheme to succeed, we must take all the necessary precautions to ensure Burke is blissfully unaware of your intentions.”

  His sanity remained barely intact. The knowledge that Grace still desired him and was close in proximity but far from accessible these past few days had his mind volleying between the idea of kidnapping her and leaving for Gretna Green to be married or murdering Burke and dashing off to America to start a new life together. If he didn’t see Grace soon, he’d inevitably end up in an asylum.

  Blake handed him a tumbler that held a finger of brandy in it. Damn. He needed more than a meager finger of brandy this evening, but as it had always been between them, Blake was the levelheaded one.

  Settling into the chair next to Matthew, Blake took a sip of his drink before continuing, “I had the jewels inspected by Rutherford.”

  Matthew sat back and turned to face him. “And?” After waiting for days for Blake to come clean with the information, Matthew was impatient to hear the results.

  Blake’s features remained neutral. “The jeweler found nothing out of the ordinary.”

  Damnation. Matthew had believed Baldwin’s theory that while the crown jewels were extremely valuable, the king used them to hide the PORF rondure. The coin that crowned its holder as the leader of all PORFs and their supporting network.

  Matthew shot to his feet. “Do you believe him? Could he be lying?”

  “Of course, I trust the old man. What has Rutherford to gain by lying? You’re searching into matters that have been well left alone by others for generations. My advice is to cease looking into stories told in the nursery and focus on ensuring Burke hangs for his misdeeds.”

  Matthew slumped back into his chair. Blake didn’t understand the importance of the coin. If he’d located the rondure, it would have justified his actions—leaving Grace, causing his peers to have suffered alongside him, and the months of agony spent in the dark.

  Glancing at his pocket watch, Blake said, “It’s time we set off.”

  “Where are we going?” Matthew trusted Blake, but it was challenging to extract details from the man.

  They both meandered over to the sideboard. Blake left his glass that still contained a half finger of brandy next to Matthew’s empty tumbler. Shame to let the liquor go to waste, not that the sentiment had ever occurred to him before his captivity.

  Opening the door to leave, Blake answered, “Not far from here.”

  Matthew brooded in silence as the coach continued to rattle over the cobbled street. He glanced at his best friend, who was capable of capturing every little detail of his surroundings and those around him. Blake always appeared relaxed and sedate, but tonight the crinkle at the edges of his eyes told Matthew he was watching out for danger. The carriage came to a stop, and Blake alighted first.

  Women in sparkling gowns, some the latest fashion and others more modest, milled about. They were at Covenant Gardens. A gaggle of ladies followed by their escorts strode by, oblivious to their surroundings. The ladies were easy prey for those who might have nefarious intentions. The dandies were absorbed in themselves and their conversation; it rendered them useless should one of the ladies be snatched for a sum.

  Matthew followed Blake as he eased his way into the crowd. A bead of sweat rolled down Matthew’s neck. Crowds had never made him uneasy before, but after months of solitude, the stench of body odor, the constant rustling of skirts, and the click-clack of canes hitting the path before them had him longing to retreat to his townhouse. He was still discovering the full effects of having been isolated, starved, and beaten for months.

  Blake tugged him into the shadows. “Easy. Take a deep breath.”

  Matthew did as he was told, staring at a nearby gas lamp that provided limited illumination but a source of light, nonetheless. He’d not been bothered by the darkness the other night as he ventured to visit Grace, but then he was aware that the woman was awaiting him. The scent of lilacs filtered through the garden, settling his nerves. She wasn’t here tonight. No doubt Grace was at home, preparing for the annual Fairmont ball. His muscles tensed. She would be attending the event on the arm of her fiancé.

  As if he had conjured up the man, Ellingsworth appeared before them. “Evening to you both.” Grace’s betrothed turned to Blake. “I assume you have what I requested. No time to dawdle. Grace awaits my escort this eve.”

  Both Matthew and Blake had yet to determine why Ellingsworth had requested sketches of certain foreign diplomats and officials
. None of them were known to have had dealings with Burke.

  Blake reached into his coat and retrieved the drawings. “I’ve not seen these men in quite some time. They may have altered their appearance since I last saw them.”

  “Did you share the list of individuals with your superior?” Ellingsworth eyed the papers but did not reach for them.

  “I haven’t. Have you?” Blake asked.

  Ellingsworth smirked. “I share all pertinent information with Grace. After all, one shouldn’t start a life together having secrets. Wouldn’t you agree, Devonton?”

  Blake shoved the papers into Ellingsworth’s chest. “Have a wonderful eve at the Fairmont ball.”

  Matthew had bristled at Ellingsworth’s informal reference to Grace. But it was Blake’s reaction that had Matthew clenching his hands by his side. It wouldn’t be the first time Matthew threw a punch on behalf of his best friend. Most were naturally intimidated by Blake’s size, but the man was extremely slow to anger, and Matthew was a willing defender.

  “My thanks.” Ellingsworth caught the rolled-up parchment and slipped it into his coat’s inner pocket. Shifting his gaze between Matthew and Blake, Ellingsworth asked, “Will you be attending?”

  Blake remained stock-still as Matthew narrowed his gaze and shook his head.

  With a tip of his hat, Ellingsworth said, “Shame. I’m sure Grace would have preferred to have as many of her loyal friends as possible in attendance tonight. Seeing it is our first public appearance together.”

  If Lucy were in town, she would have made sure Matthew attended. But his sister wasn’t here to meddle. Given a choice between spending an evening alone in his study or being subjected to the playacting of the happily betrothed couple, the decision was simple. He would seek solace in a drink or two under his own roof. Playacting or not, Matthew didn’t care to see Grace on the arm of another man. If you hadn’t gotten yourself imprisoned, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. A pang of guilt nearly had him changing his mind. No. He’d promised Grace to trust her and to stay away until it was safe for them to be together. The agony of not knowing exactly when that day or time was had Matthew focusing on his scheme to reveal Burke for the conniving, double-crossing devil he was.

  Matthew found his voice as Ellingsworth turned to leave. “I believe Grace will have the support of Theo and Mary this eve.”

  An inch away from Matthew, Ellingsworth stopped and replied, “Ah, yes, the lovely Countess Archbroke and Countess Waterford. Both extremely unique women.” He leaned in a tad closer and whispered, “She needs you.” Ellingsworth’s shoulder bumped Matthew’s as he left without another word.

  Blake’s hand landed squarely on Matthew’s shoulder, preventing him from going after Ellingsworth and demanding the obtuse man explain his meaning. What the devil did Grace need him for? Damn. Damn. Damn. He couldn’t merely ignore the man’s statement. But to go to the Fairmont ball and have Grace within sight would be the ultimate test of what remaining willpower he had left.

  Having read Matthew’s thoughts Blake asked, “Do you need me to accompany you?”

  Not surprised at his best friend’s offer to endure the extravagant affair, Matthew answered, “No. I shall remain in the shadows this eve.”

  Images of Grace dressed in an elegant ball gown, hair neatly set in her signature style that was sophisticated and simultaneously fashionable, increased Matthew’s anxiety. Without question, she’d be the most beautiful woman present tonight.

  Blake patted Matthew solidly on the back. “See that you do. Burke has eyes and ears everywhere.”

  The reminder that Grace was inherently in danger because of his actions sobered Matthew. His plan for the evening was simple. All he had to do was rein in his desires, shut out fond memories of his time with Grace at the event, and maintain a safe distance. Keep her safe. It became his mental mantra as he made his way home to change. It was the very least he could do for the woman who saved his life—both mentally and physically.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tobias patted Grace’s gloved hand that rested lightly upon his forearm. She should have never agreed to this charade. He’d found her hiding, seated next to her Aunt Emily in the parlor. After seeking permission from Aunt Emily to whisk her away for a dance, Tobias led her through the throng of guests toward the main ballroom. She hadn’t been this nervous at a ball in years. Then again, she had not attended one since Matthew’s disappearance. Guilt at having declined her dear friend the Duchess of Fairmont’s invitation two seasons in a row gnawed at Grace’s conscience.

  “The duchess seemed genuinely pleased to see you,” Tobias said as they stalled behind an older couple.

  Staring directly in front of her at the lady’s elaborately tied bow in the center of the woman’s back, Grace admitted, “I’ve been rather remiss as a friend.”

  “The Duchess of Fairmont is lucky. I suspect you don’t refer to many as friends.”

  Grace glanced up at her betrothed. Tobias continued to surprise her with his observations. She detested surprises. “What led you to that conclusion, my lord?”

  “You have many supporters, but you consider very few more than an acquaintance. Those you call friends have known you for many years, with perhaps the exception of Lady Theo. But she is like you in temperament, so it stands to reason the pair of you would come to trust each other relatively fast. Am I wrong?”

  The man everyone believed a dullard was absolutely on point. When she was younger, her mama called her shy and reserved. She worked hard to appear sociable, but it required a significant amount of effort, and Grace sorely lacked the necessary energy to continue the farce.

  “I’ll take your silence as an admission I am correct and that I’m right in stating that you draw strength from those you trust.” Tobias glanced about the crowd. “I see Lady Mary and her husband by the terrace. Shall we join them?”

  His altruistic behavior was unsettling. It was hard to believe that Tobias was sired by the detestable Lord Burke. While he was right that it would be comforting to have friends close by, she didn’t want to appear needy or burden them with her sour mood. “I thought you wanted to dance.”

  “I do, and we shall.” He rubbed a thumb over the top of her hand and bent to whisper, “I apologize for the strain our engagement is causing you. Rest assured, my tender feelings will not be offended if you pretend I’m someone else tonight.”

  His sincere apology prompted Grace to confess, “I’d prefer to dance rather than stand about tonight. And imagining you to be another will not ease my stress.”

  “I gathered as much.” Tobias continued to edge his way toward the ballroom.

  Their progress was slow. Grace continued to scan the crush of guests, eager to catch a glimpse of Theo. She could only hope Theo had a new message for her from Matthew. But with each step Grace took, doubts plagued her thoughts. Her last message to Matthew was to inform him that she still had no specifics as to how or when Tobias intended Burke to meet his maker. Her desperation to be useful and provide the information needed tore at her confidence to succeed. Grace wasn’t about to give up. The key was to gain Tobias’s trust, but the man was obstinately guarded with her. She flickered a glance up at him as his muscles flexed beneath her hand. She smiled at the gaggle of guests as they passed, none of whom she would believe would give him pause, but his features had taken on an edge that he usually hid with ease. As they continued on, he returned eager smiles. He acknowledged the congratulatory comments of guests with a nod or two, but the muscles beneath her fingers remained taut and strained.

  Frustrated, she was unable to interrupt his features. Grace dug her fingers into his arm.

  He bent his head toward her and asked, “Is anything the matter?”

  “You tell me.”

  He shrugged and pulled on the cuff of his exquisitely tailored jacket, repeating the agitated movement from the night of their engagement dinner. Tobias was hiding something that resided on the tender side of his wrist. If he was a PORF
, as Matthew suspected, was it the mark of a PORF that had him tugging on his coat sleeve?

  Grace lifted an eyebrow in question. When he didn’t answer, she followed Tobias’s lead and curled her lips into a smile and nodded to well-wishers as they entered through the wide double doors through to the grand ballroom. Except her smile faltered as all eyes in the room turned to fall upon them. She squared her shoulders and met the stares of the guests. Scanning the room, Grace searched for a pair of stunning emerald eyes that belonged to Theo. Instead of finding her friend, her gaze locked with the Prince Regent, who now stood glaring at her… Or was Prinny staring at her betrothed?

  Grace turned to face Tobias. The constant befuddled frown that graced his brow should have made her cringe. But knowing the man was merely role-playing, Grace’s lips curved into a genuine smile.

  Tobias looked down at her as if she were the most interesting woman in the crowd. “Prinny wants the jewels returned. Have you convinced Harrington?”

  Grace, in turn, gave him the most ludicrous besotted smile. “I’ve not had an opportunity to speak with him about the matter. Not to worry. I’ll see to it.”

  “Is that so?” Tobias cocked his head to one side.

  Fluttering her eyes, Grace answered, “Perhaps I’ll find him in attendance tonight.”

  “I’m saddened to inform you he is not coming.” Tobias shifted to shield her from the crowd as patrons jostled about in the cramped space.

  It was a good thing she momentarily occupied the space in his shadow, for it took every ounce of self-control for Grace to mask her surprise. “Did Matthew inform you himself?”

  “He did.”

  A stab of jealousy that Matthew had not cared to share this information with her first left Grace standing mute. How could this be? She tried to picture the two of them relaxing and having a drink at one of the clubs. Impossible. None of her reports indicated Tobias ever ventured to Brooks’s or White’s. On the contrary, his favored haunt was purported to be questionable hells.