Confessions of Lady Grace

by Rachel Ann Smith

  The quick tempo of heels striking the wood floors in the hallway could only belong to one person—Lucy. What was her best friend doing back in London? She was supposed to be safely tucked away in the country.

  The door creaked open, followed by more swift footsteps. “Grace! Why are you lying about? Are you ill?” A small cool hand touched her forehead.

  Lucy’s thumb tried to rub the creases from her brow away. “Don’t worry. Everything will work out.”

  Grace repeated, “Don’t worry! Ha. All will be well! No one can bloody well know that for certain. If it were Blake who was the one facing charges of treason, I highly doubt you’d be lying here calm and carefree.”

  The slimy pieces of cucumber were removed from her eyes, and Lucy’s gray-blue eyes, similar to Matthew’s but not as blue, bore down at Grace. “Well, well. Look who has a temper after all. I need not remind you, but Matthew is my twin. You think it easy for me to sit and wait for the capricious Prince Regent to decide upon my brother’s fate.”

  How selfish of her not to consider Lucy’s feelings. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out.”

  Lucy slapped the now lukewarm fruit back over her eyes. “Tilman was right to put those on your eyes. You look dreadful. When was the last time you got a solid night’s sleep?” In typical Lucy fashion, Grace’s apology was ignored, and the conversation turned around.

  “Actually, I managed three hours of solid sleep, just last eve.” Grace rolled slightly on to her side as her bed sank. Lucy’s hip pressed up against her. She shimmied over to give her best friend more room.

  “My hips are wider than a century-old oak.” Lucy bemoaned. “Childbirth does strange things to one’s body, but Blake doesn’t seem to mind.”

  Of course, her husband wouldn’t mind. Grace doubted Blake’s infatuation with Lucy would ever die. Grace pictured Lucy’s twin boys. Their facial features were the spitting image of their papa, but they both had their mama and uncle’s gray-blue eyes.

  Lucy patted her arm. “I digress. Never mind about those things now. Three hours of sleep, you say. That’s hardly enough for the eve of one’s wedding.”

  Grace raised her hand to remove the fruit eye patches.

  Lucy slapped her hand away. “Oh no, you don’t. Those stay on until Tilman returns with your freshly pressed gown.”

  Grace released a sigh as she rested her hands across her chest. “When and what time did you arrive back in town?”

  “The roads from Shalford Castle to London are rather well maintained. Fortunately, I was able to arrive before dark. Still, I wasn’t able to locate my exhausted husband until well after midnight.”

  Grace said, “I imagine Blake was delighted to see you no matter the time.”

  “I won’t let you manipulate the conversation back around to me. Explain to me why you decided to place both my brother and husband at risk last night, hiding about in the shadows. If you were caught—”

  “But I wasn’t.”

  There was a rap at the door.

  Lucy said, “That will be Mary. I believe she and Waterford intend to accompany us to the church.”

  She didn’t need such a large retinue. Was this Theo’s doing? Grace called out, “Please come in.”

  The soft swish of skirts was the only indication that Mary had entered her chambers. The bed shifted as Lucy’s feet hit the ground. Grace had a sneaking suspicion Mary was reading Lucy’s lips. “Lucille Stanford Gower, you are in my rooms, and you will speak out loud for me to hear.”

  Lucy grumbled, “Sometimes I wish you didn’t know me so well. Where is Waterford?”

  “I left my dear husband in Lord Flarinton’s company. I believe they were to take a turn in the gardens while they wait.” Mary answered.

  Frowning, Grace asked, “Should I be worried that Archbroke ordered you and Waterford to accompany me to the church?”

  “Beg pardon. No one ordered us to come. I consider you a friend.” Mary’s voice cracked, but she continued, “I wanted to be here to be of assistance to you.”

  Lucy interjected, “Don’t mind her, Mary. Grace hasn’t had much sleep lately.”

  Argh. Grace removed the cucumber slices from her eyes. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed to face Mary. “I apologize. Not knowing all the particulars has me on edge.”

  Tilman rushed into the room with a glorious green silk gown. “My lady, isn’t it the most wonderful dress?”

  “That’s not the gown I ordered.” Grace stared at the magnificent dress Tilman was fondling as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

  “No, it’s the one I had Ms. Lennox design and make for your special day.” Lucy smiled. “It’s perfect.”

  “Ms. Lennox?”

  It was Mary who grinned and replied, “Aye. Ms. Lennox agreed to outfit us all.” She ran a hand down her slender figure wrapped in a ruby-red gown. The color highlighted her mahogany tresses perfectly.

  Grace tilted her head to take in Lucy’s gown. It was a lovely lavender color. Lucy had worn a similar ensemble the season that Matthew had left. A season Grace wished she could go back and erase.

  Mary’s concerned eyes captured Grace’s attention. “All will be as it is meant to be.”

  Grace swore she was going to punch the next person who dared to say all would be well.

  Leaning in, Mary whispered, “I say that knowing Theo has taken care of matters.” Her eyes closed for a moment, and then she added, “But we still need to proceed with caution.”

  “Why? What do you know?” Grace asked.

  Mary shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  Before Mary answered, Lucy came to stand beside them. “What are the two of you whispering about?”

  Tilman wedged her way closer to her mistress. “My ladies, may I suggest you wait for Lady Grace…”

  Lucy relieved her maid of the clean chemise and corset held tightly in her hands. “Tilman, I’m feeling a little parched. Please fetch us some tea. Mary and I will see that Grace is dressed.”

  Tilman reluctantly let go of the undergarments and bobbed a curtsy. “As you wish, Lady Devonton.”

  As soon as the door latch fell into place, Lucy said, “I confess I’d had my doubts about Ellingsworth and his intentions, but when Blake woke me this morn to share the news that the royal physician had declared Burke dead, I was relieved, to say the least.”

  “Burke is dead?” Mary and Grace said in unison.

  “Yes.” Lucy linked her arm through Mary’s and turned, giving Grace privacy to change into her chemise. “Didn’t Waterford tell you?”

  “No. No one advised me.” The annoyance in Mary’s tone was clear and mirrored Grace’s own thoughts and feelings.

  How had Blake and Lucy received confirmation when she had received no news? If her papa had intercepted the information, he might have forgotten to pass it along. Grace shook her head. That couldn’t be. The household was well aware she was to be kept abreast of all correspondence.

  Grace sucked in a breath as Lucy placed the corset about her ribs. The dastardly contraption was pulled tighter as Grace expelled the last ounce of air left in her lungs.

  Mary approached with her dress and said, “I too had concerns over Ellingsworth’s ability to see to Burke’s demise. But if the royal surgeon is to be believed, it appears his scheme must have worked. Am I the only one concerned for Lord Ellingsworth? His hasty departure after his sire’s death will cast a shadow over his inheritance of the title and the duties that come along with it.”

  “I’m sure Ellingsworth considered the impact of the associated gossip that will ensue,” Grace said as she punched her arms through the small cap sleeves. “It was his plan.”

  “Yes, but for him to willingly take on such a burden.” Mary absently handed Grace matching silk gloves. “I wonder if the woman he intends to marry will care. That is if such horrid rumors ever reach American shores.”

  Grace stuffed he
r hands into the gloves. “If she truly loves Tobias as he says she does, it matters not what the gossips might say.”

  Lucy said, “We know nothing of this woman nor of her family. We shall just have to hope that Ellingsworth knows what he is about.”

  Grace ran a hand down her sides, smoothing out the last wrinkles in the gown. She turned to stare at the image in the looking glass. The woman looking back at her appeared calm and reserved, with absolutely no hint of the anxiety that was accumulating within.

  Mary appeared behind her in the looking glass. “I’d grown fond of Lord Ellingsworth and Mr. Jones. I shall miss them both.”

  “Mr. Jones? Per my sources, he didn’t possess a ticket.” Suspecting her brother might be considering moving abroad, Grace had investigated, but she’d not received confirmation of any plans.

  “That is because Mr. Jones hadn’t fully committed until they were about to pull the gangplank.” Mary smiled and continued to explain, “It is always a tough decision to make when choosing between the life you know and the one that may await in a foreign land.”

  “I hope they arrive safely.”

  Mary shrugged. “The trip across the Atlantic is plagued with dangers, but I believe if Mr. Jones sticks with Lord Ellingsworth, he’ll be in fine company.”

  Opening the door, Lucy said, “It’s time for us to leave, or we’ll be late.”

  Turning, Mary whispered, “I have full faith in Theo, and so should you.”

  It wasn’t a matter of trust or faith, the shiver that ran down Grace’s spine bespoke disaster.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Muted sunlight shone through the stained-glass window into the cramped quarters where Matthew was ensconced. Head bowed and hands tightly clasped behind his back, he leaned his forehead against the frosty panes of glass. The waiting was killing him.

  A Home Office runner had found Matthew descending from Grace’s window at first light and passed along a missive written in Archbroke’s scrawling handwriting.

  Burke is dead.

  Ellingsworth and Jones have set sail.

  Report to Carlton House immediately.

  The news of the loathsome lord’s death hadn’t alleviated the pain and the anger that resided in the middle of Matthew’s chest. Ellingsworth had succeeded where he had failed, yet Matthew found it difficult to believe Burke was no longer breathing. His hands clenched. Pushing away from the window, he paced what he guessed was the smallest room in the royal residence.

  By rights, Ellingsworth would assume all the duties and responsibilities that went along with inheriting the Marquess of Burke title, including that of royal advisor. The title alone brought a myriad of obligations. How did the man intend to address them all from across the pond?

  As he circled back to face the colorful panes of glass, a shard of green light fell upon his chest right over his heart, and he froze. Damnation. The sight of the sparkling green rays brought Grace to mind. He had no idea exactly how long he’d been detained, but he guessed it must be nearing noon. Matthew let out a frustrated growl. He needed to be on his way to the chapel, not circling about like the animals at the royal menagerie.

  It appeared none of his plans since his return were bearing fruit. He had failed to regain his physical strength during the many months of recovery at Halestone Hall. Matthew ran his left hand over this right shoulder, the one that dislodged multiple times and ached incessantly. Over the past week, he had finally gained the courage to speak to Blake regarding his trepidation over revealing his marked skin and damaged body to Grace.

  His brother-in-law had listened to his concerns and had empathetically shared, even if you had returned whole, every man and woman harbor insecurities regarding their form. I guarantee you no one is perfect—nor were you before your imprisonment. While Matthew acknowledged the fact he was far from perfect, his fears hadn’t permeated his every thought and action as they did now.

  Booted footsteps from the other side of the door signaled someone was finally approaching.

  The door swung open. Instead of a guard entering, Theo preceded Archbroke and then Hadfield into the room. The group formed a semicircle in front of him, with Hadfield in the center, who said, “Tobias doesn’t believe you intend to keep your promise to refrain from investigating the matter of PORFs.” Hadfield raised a singular brow, and after a brief pause continued, “After many hours of deliberation, we have decided that the best course of action is to provide you with clarity, guidance, and to explain in detail how matters are to be dealt with going forward.”

  Hadfield’s opening words sunk into Matthew’s brain. It hadn’t been the Prince Regent who had kept him waiting all these hours. It was the trio standing before him.

  Theo stepped in front of her cousin and over her shoulder scolded, “You are making this far too complicated.”

  Matthew was sure Hadfield, an ex-barrister, would make some sort of scathing retort. Instead, the man smiled at his cousin and winked at her. Matthew examined the flow of the conversation and the undercurrent of energy that ebbed and flowed between cousins.

  Theo turned back around to face Matthew. “We have agreed that it was only fair to grant you the truth. But in return, you will have to swear your fidelity to all current and future PORFs. It will also mean your future wife and your descendants will be bound by your commitment here today.”

  “Invitations such as this are not granted often.” Archbroke came to stand next to Theo.

  Matthew shrugged. “If you are truly willing to provide me with answers, I agree.”

  “I see now why Tobias had his reservations.” As Hadfield spoke, Theo and Archbroke stepped back behind the man. Odd. Archbroke typically always took the lead. Hadfield continued, “You are not taking this seriously.”

  “Au contraire, but I am.” Matthew placed his right hand over his heart. “I, Matthew Stanford, Marquess Harrington, pledge my fidelity to the three families who have sworn to protect the royal family. I hereby promise to honor the code of silence.”

  Hadfield’s gaze roamed over his face and down to where his trembling hand rested upon his chest. “Very good. However, I must reiterate you, your wife, and any future children to be born will hereby be sworn to secrecy and be pledging their full cooperation and assistance to anyone who bears the mark of a PORF. In return, and as the holder of the coin, it is my responsibility to ensure your safety and the safety of your wife and offspring.”

  A million items and questions raced through Matthew’s mind. His heart pounded with excitement. Years of digging and hypothesizing, all culminating together. Finding his voice, Matthew blurted, “I can’t believe it. You have the rondure. Have the Hadfields always possessed the coin?”

  Archbroke answered, “No. It was missing up until recent months. Without the assistance of Lady Mary, the coin would have fallen into the wrong hands.”

  “I knew it!” Matthew whirled around and rubbed the back of his neck.

  Taking a few steps forward, he muttered more to himself than the others. “Archbrokes have run the Home Office for generations. Hadfields have been known to be great travelers and information seekers. Burkes have held seniority at court for as long as anyone can remember.” The rainbow of colors upon the stone floor reminded him of where he needed to be. Walking back to face the trio, Matthew opened his mouth to speak, but Hadfield raised a hand up in the air and lowered it to rest behind his back.

  Hadfield said, “As I said, I’m responsible for your welfare. I shall deal with the Prince Regent while you go prepare for your wedding. I have arranged for Hereford to accompany you home and assist with getting you to the church as soon as possible. I suggest you change into a less ostentatious outfit. Prinny might have appreciated your current ensemble, but I highly doubt Lady Grace will.”

  Was Hereford part of the network? Is that why he was selected for the court appointment?

  As if reading his mind, Hadfield answered, “No, Lord Hereford is not my responsibility. His family crest is devoid of the netw
ork’s emblem. He is, however, a good friend who wants to see that you and Lady Grace are wed. We shall meet, and I’ll answer your questions then. But for now, I must meet with Prinny and arrange for the paperwork to be drawn up. Archbroke and Theo will ensure all is ready by the time you arrive at the church.” Hadfield leaned down and gave Theo a peck on the cheek. “Come see me after you have escorted Harrington out.”

  The woman beamed up at her cousin. “As you wish.” Theo had adored her deceased brother Baldwin, but it was apparent she worshipped Hadfield. The man smiled and revealed a dimple that Matthew had never known to exist. He expected it was only the first of many new revelations.

  Hadfield left the room, followed by Archbroke. Theo hooked her arm through Matthew’s and said, “Come along. We are late as it is. I’m sure Hereford is about somewhere.”

  “What did you have to sacrifice in order to convince your cousin?” Matthew asked.

  “Nothing. The man always listens to reason.” Theo patted his arm.

  The twinkle in her eyes was one Matthew was familiar with. Hadfield may possess the rondure, but Matthew suspected it was Theo who wielded the most power. Matthew looked up to see Hereford quickly descending upon them.

  “I got turned about. I’ve not been granted access to this section before.” Hereford glanced about. “Is this the private wing?”

  “It is.” Theo nodded.

  Matthew whispered, “What is the room I awaited in used for?”

  “It was intended for prayer.” Theo stepped back and addressed Hereford. “Can you find your way back, or should I accompany you?”

  Hereford’s brow creased. “I believe I can recall the way back to the private entrance.”

  “Excellent. We can shorten the distance by going through Saint James’s Park. If we hurry, we won’t be too late.” The mountain of questions he had for Theo and Hadfield would wait. He lengthened his stride and quickened his pace.