“My lord.” Marie opened the door. “Please come in and see if ye can talk some sense into my lady.”
Grace whirled around. “Lord Dawson! What are you doing here?”
David stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He had no time for roundaboutation. “Grace, don’t leave.”
Grace’s eyes dropped from his. She stared at her portmanteau as she stuffed a handful of clothes inside it. “I have to leave. Papa is here.”
“No, you don’t. You are of age. Your father cannot order your obedience.”
She glanced up. “It is not a matter of obedience. I love my father. I do not wish to hurt him.”
“But what about me?” Desperation trumped pride. “Do you not care that you hurt me?”
She straightened, pushing her hair back off her face. “Of course I care, but you will get over it.”
Good God! Her words turned like a knife in his gut. “How can you say that? How can you dismiss what I feel out of hand?”
Grace’s eyes were strained, but dry. “How long have you known me, Lord Dawson? A few weeks?”
“Yes, but—”
“What can a person really feel—really know—about someone in such a short time? Attraction, yes. You are attracted to me. If circumstances were different, that might be enough. But circumstances are not different. There is too much history between our families for us to overcome. And Mr. Parker-Roth expects me to meet him at the altar.” She closed her portmanteau. “You will find some other girl who will suit you as well or better than I. You will get over me.”
“I won’t.” He swallowed. He finally understood how his father must have felt, faced with the threat of losing his love to another man. Society and reputations be damned. David would grab Grace right now and flee for Gretna if she were willing.
If she were willing. But she wasn’t willing. She obviously didn’t feel for him what he felt for her.
So now he also knew how Standen had felt when Lady Harriet chose his father over him—and that pain had stayed with the man through a marriage and Grace’s childhood, year after year, even till today.
“Your father didn’t get over losing Lady Harriet.”
Grace stared at him, her mouth slightly open, as if his statement had caught her unawares. Was she going to change her mind?
No. She shook her head, a wooden, determined expression on her face.
“The situations aren’t the same,” she said. “If anyone is in my father’s position, it is John Parker-Roth. If I were mad enough to run off with you, he would be left standing alone at the front of the church, jilted as my father was.”
David had little sympathy for a man who had so failed to woo Grace he hadn’t even kissed her. “But does Parker-Roth love you, Grace? He may like you; he may find you a comfortable—a safe—option for marriage, but does he love you? Does he ache for you and dream of you? Does his heart leap when he sees you? Is he always listening for your voice, waiting for your smile?”
David clenched his teeth. He had to stop blathering on so—he was making a fool of himself. He couldn’t force Grace to love him. Love was a gift that must be given freely.
Grace bit her lip and stared at him. He thought he saw uncertainty in her eyes again. He started to open his arms to welcome her back, but she shook her head and turned away.
“My father is waiting for me, Lord Dawson, and as I’m sure you discerned, he is not a patient man. I must go.”
“Very well.” The searing pain of her rejection made it hard to breathe, but he would not fall apart—he would keep a stiff upper lip. He extended his hand. “I wish you the best, Lady Grace.”
She put her smaller hand in his. “As I wish the same for you, my lord.”
Did he feel a trembling in her fingers, see moisture in her eyes? Before he could be certain, she’d left, closing the door quietly behind her.
Marie stood, hands on hips, and looked him up and down. She made a guttural sound that spoke volumes.
“Och, my lord, and here I was thinking ye actually had something in that brain box of yers.”
Chapter 19
“David, we wanted you to be the first to hear our good news.”
David looked up from the desiccated earthworm he’d been studying. The sun was out, the flowers were in bloom, but the only thing that seemed real to him at the moment was this poor dead creature that had been stupid enough to venture out of the safe, dark earth.
Alex was grinning. Hell, Alex and Lady Oxbury were positively glowing. He’d never seen Alex so happy. If he could feel anything, he would feel delighted for them. “So I see you’ve ironed out your differences?”
“Yes. I’m getting a special license and we’ll be married as soon as possible.”
David forced himself to grip Alex’s hand. “Congratulations.” He looked at Grace’s aunt. “And best wishes, Lady Oxbury.” He tried for a touch of levity. “Or should I say good luck? You are taking on a formidable chore, ma’am. Everyone thought my uncle a confirmed bachelor.”
“Oh, I’m not worried.” She looked adoringly up at Alex, then glanced around the garden. “But where is Grace? We thought she’d be out here with you.”
Just hearing Grace’s name caused a stabbing sensation in his gut. “Didn’t you hear? Lady Grace left.”
Lady Oxbury’s eyes widened. “Grace left? When? How? Why wasn’t I told?”
David clasped his hands behind his back. “Lord Standen arrived about an hour ago. Apparently the current Lord Oxbury alerted him to the fact Lady Grace was attending a house party that included members of the nefarious Wilton family.” He meant to sound self-mocking, but he feared he merely sounded bitter. “I regret to say I believe the earl is not very pleased with you, Lady Oxbury. He seems to feel you should have prevented the situation.”
“I can’t believe it.” She looked at Alex. “Could my brother be that stupid?”
“Apparently he could.” Alex frowned at David. “And you let her go?”
“Of course I did. What did you expect me to do? I have no influence with Lady Grace.”
“No? I would have thought otherwise.” Lady Oxbury worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “My brother must have forced her.”
“No, Lady Oxbury, he did not. Your niece went willingly, I assure you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Grace wouldn’t have returned home without complaint.”
“Well, she did.” He took a calming breath. There was no point in snapping at Lady Oxbury. “She is betrothed to a neighbor.”
“Mr. Parker-Roth. Yes, I knew there was an understanding of some sort, but I also know she doesn’t love him.” Lady Oxbury shook her head. “She couldn’t be repeating my mistake, could she?”
“It sounds as if she is.” Alex turned to David. “And so you must not repeat my mistake.”
“What are you talking about?” David was not in the mood for riddles.
“Twenty-three years ago,” Lady Oxbury said, “I did what my brother wanted me to do. I left London and married Lord Oxbury. I let family loyalty separate me from your uncle.”
“And I should have come after you.” Alex kissed Lady Oxbury’s fingers. “Or I should have persuaded you that night in Alvord’s garden to flee to Gretna with me immediately. I should have anticipated how Standen would react.”
“Nonsense. Who could have guessed my brother would bundle me off to the country? More to the point, who could have imagined he would marry me off so quickly? One does not expect such behavior in this day and age—even the day and age of twenty-three years ago. It is positively barbaric.”
“I’m afraid your brother is barbaric, at least where my family is concerned, Kate.”
Lady Oxbury sighed and shook her head. “I don’t understand it. I can’t think his heart was broken when Harriet ran off with Luke—he did marry Margaret a few years afterward and they seemed to have had a comfortable enough arrangement.”
“Whatever the reason,” Alex said, “we know he is capable of rushin
g Lady Grace up the aisle. You can’t delay, David.”
Lady Oxbury nodded. “At least Grace has attained her majority. You don’t need her father’s consent to wed.”
David wanted to laugh, though he’d never felt so humorless. “But I do need Grace’s consent. Your niece has no interest in wedding me, Lady Oxbury. She’s content with this neighbor.”
Lady Oxbury snorted. “I don’t believe that for an instant and neither should you. Did Grace say she didn’t love you?”
“Not in so many words, perhaps.”
Lady Oxbury frowned at him. “Don’t assume you know Grace’s mind, Lord Dawson. I have observed her closely—I had to; I was her chaperone. I would say she is very much in love with you. I spent many a sleepless night worrying about it, since I knew my brother would not be pleased with the connection.”
“You need to go after her, David,” Alex said. “You can’t let one short conversation determine your life. You may not be as lucky as I.” He wrapped his arm around Lady Oxbury’s shoulders. “You might not get a second chance.”
“And a second chance is not the same as the first chance, Lord Dawson. You need an heir; you should marry Grace now, while she is most capable of giving you several children.” Lady Oxbury blushed.
Alex grinned. “We have some other good news. Kate is…well, we are anticipating an interesting event in a few months’ time.”
So he had not misunderstood—Lady Oxbury was breeding. It was odd to see a couple of such advanced years beaming over such a thing, but they were obviously delighted. David shook Alex’s hand again and gave Lady Oxbury a kiss on the cheek.
“Splendid! I will not only have a new aunt, but a new cousin as well.”
Alex gave him a pointed look. “Go after Lady Grace, David. Give our baby a cousin more his—or her—age.”
Lust and regret flooded him at the thought. He would love to give Grace a baby, but that would never happen. Alex and Lady Oxbury were blinded by their own love. They hadn’t seen Grace take her leave of him.
Grace was on her way to Devon to wed her neighbor and he—he was going back to London tomorrow to start the search for a wife all over again.
Zeus, what a depressing thought.
Grace stared out the carriage window at the trees and grass and shrubs. Every moment put more distance between her and—
She would not think of him.
“Thank God Oxbury wrote to tell me you’d gone off with Dawson. I never thought I’d be beholden to that horse’s arse, but there you have it.” Papa shook his head. “I should have warned you to give the Wiltons a wide berth, but it didn’t occur to me. They don’t frequent London, as a rule. I swear this must be the first time they’ve come to Town in years.”
“Yes, I think you are right.” Why did they have to come this Season? If only…
No, she was glad she’d met David. He’d made her feel so many new things. And she was certainly glad Aunt Kate had met Mr. Wilton again. Had they worked out their differences? She wished she could have stayed to find out, but surely Aunt Kate would write. Well, she’d come to the wedding…
Grace bit her lip hard. The next time she saw Aunt Kate, she’d be preparing to walk down the aisle at the village church to marry John.
She felt like a noose had dropped over her head.
“Even though you didn’t know about the Wiltons,” Papa was saying, “Katherine certainly did. I’m shocked she didn’t tell you to avoid them. It was to save her from Dawson’s uncle that I married her off to Oxbury, you know. The woman must be dicked in the nob if she thought I’d countenance any sort of contact between you and a Wilton.”
“But, Papa, I don’t understand.” Grace studied her father. He looked smaller than she remembered. Older. Had he changed so much in the short time she’d been gone—or had she changed? “Why do you dislike the Wiltons so intensely? Surely it is not merely because Lady Harriet preferred Lord Dawson’s father to you? That happened so long ago.”
Papa scowled at her. “I do not choose to speak of it. It is enough for you to know that I do dislike them.”
Grace should have felt anger, but she had no room for any emotion besides the deep, leaden sadness of leaving David. Still she was not going to let her father hide in silence.
“No, Papa, it is not enough. Your hatred of the Wiltons ruled Aunt Kate’s life and now it is ruling mine. You owe us—you owe me—an explanation.”
Papa frowned and dropped his gaze to study his hands. He said nothing for so long Grace gave up hope he would respond. She swallowed her annoyance and turned her attention back to the scenery.
“I was young and in love,” Papa said finally. He spoke so quietly, Grace hardly heard him over the creaking of the carriage.
“Yes. You were young—it was over thirty years ago.”
“Some things aren’t changed by time, Grace.”
Some things—like her feelings for David? Would they never fade? They must. She couldn’t live forever with this heavy black cloud shrouding her heart.
“I understand that, Papa, but this was hardly more than a brief dream, wasn’t it? You only knew Lady Harriet for part of one Season. A few dances, a handful of conversations. You didn’t know her at all.”
Just as she hardly knew David.
And Aunt Kate had hardly known Mr. Wilton, yet their love had endured.
Papa spread his hands. He looked almost helpless. “I loved her.”
“You were infatuated. You were only…what? Twenty-five?”
“Your age.”
“Yes, but now you are fifty-six.” She wouldn’t still pine for David when she was so old, would she? She pushed down the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She would get over her feelings. She would marry John, have children. She would remember David fondly, without rancor.
“It doesn’t matter,” Papa said. “It doesn’t matter how old I am. It’s like it happened yesterday.”
Oh, God. Grace squeezed her eyes shut. No. She rested her head against the squabs, turning slightly so he wouldn’t see her tears.
She would not think of David, she would not—but memories of him were all that filled her heart: his eyes crinkling when he was amused; the warm, deep sound of his voice; the touch of his lips. But even more than those things, she remembered his concern for his uncle, his willingness to put his past hurt aside to bring some peace to his grandmother, the way he’d held his tongue when she had so needed him to do so in Lord Motton’s entryway.
He understood her as no one had before.
“Lady Harriet was everything I wasn’t.” Papa spoke quietly again, almost as if he were talking to himself. Grace turned her head to watch him. He was looking out the window, a slight smile curving his lips.
“She was lively and inventive. Quick and bright. Everything sparkled when she was present. She was like a star, fallen to earth—and I was a lump of coal.” He sighed and shook his head.
“Wilton was much the same. It was clear why they were attracted to each other—like to like. But they were too much alike. Wordham—Harriet’s father—thought Harriet needed steadying; Wilton was too flighty. Wordham wanted Harriet to marry me.” Papa at last looked over at Grace. His eyes were full of pain. “But Harriet wanted Wilton.”
He leaned toward her, his voice growing more forceful. “If Wilton hadn’t convinced Harriet to run away with him, she would have married me. She’d be alive today.”
Grace leaned forward, too. “You don’t know that, Papa. Lady Harriet died in childbirth. If you had wed her, she might have died with your child…as Mama did.”
Papa looked startled, as if that thought had never occurred to him.
Grace reached out to touch his knee. “Didn’t you love Mama at all?”
He cleared his throat. He looked flustered. “Your mother was a fine woman. Very pleasant. We rubbed along tolerably well.”
Grace sat back. “But you didn’t love her.”
“I was fond of her.”
“But you didn’t lo
ve her.”
Papa hunched a shoulder. “Love causes no end of pain and turmoil. Affection—or respect—is a better sentiment for marriage. Compatibility, such as you have with Parker-Roth, will get you through the years.”
Until death do they part. The words popped into Grace’s mind unbidden. She had always thought they were sad; now they sounded like a goal. After year upon year of polite, boring matrimony, finally a release.
“I do wish you would visit Standen, Lord Dawson. Talk to Grace.”
“I can’t see how that would help, Lady Oxbury.” David had been on his way to take his leave of his grandmother and had interrupted Alex and Lady Oxbury in the green parlor. Fortunately they’d been exchanging only a kiss—a rather heated kiss, true, but at least all their clothing was still properly fastened.
“I just cannot believe she is consenting to marry her neighbor. There must be some misunderstanding.”
“Believe me, Lady Oxbury, there was no misunderstanding.” And Grace had been correct. They had known each other only a very short time. They were just caught up in lust; the feeling would wear off in a month or two.
“Still, it would be worth a trip to see her, David,” Alex said. “Likely she spoke in haste and almost immediately regretted her words.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s it.” Lady Oxbury smiled up at Alex as though he’d just said something brilliant. “Grace can be somewhat impetuous at times. With her father surprising her like that, showing up on Lord Motton’s doorstep with no warning, who knows what odd thoughts were going through her head?”
“You should go, David. What can you lose? If Lady Grace is adamant, at least you’ll know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she does not wish to wed you. But if you discover she regrets her decision or that it was all a misunderstanding, then you’ve won years of happiness.” Alex grinned down at Lady Oxbury in a completely besotted way.
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