by Sherry Ewing
Nicholas took off his mask and ran a hand through his hair. “I am sure the Duchess of Haverford’s servants are more than capable of taking care of events without the help of your planning committee.”
Elinor peered at him with narrowed brows. “I can see you are in a foul mood again. I shall tell Mother on you, and then you shall never hear the end of her lecture that you are not enjoying yourself.”
“Just do not tell your father. I still am not sure he will forgive me when he finds out that I have let his daughters basically run amuck in the last two weeks while I have been otherwise…distracted.”
“She is lovely, is she not?”
“Who?” Nicholas asked, afraid that his niece would so easily read him.
Elinor laughed, confirming his fears. “Why, Lady de Courtenay, of course. Who else would we be speaking about? Honestly, Uncle Nicholas, only a fool would not know you have come to care for her the way you watch her every move.”
“Eh gads, I am a fool.” Nicholas looked upon his niece. “Tell me what you know, and be quick about it.”
She attempted to sit down on a chair and remain in a lady-like position but appeared far from comfortable with the costume she wore. “Blasted dress. It looks like I shall be standing on my feet all evening long,” she complained.
“Elinor…”
She gave him a sly smile. “What do you wish to know?”
“You are going to make me say it aloud, are you not?”
“What do you think?” she teased.
“Very well,” he fumed. “Is she married or not?”
Elinor took out her fan and began to wave it furiously across her face. “My, it is hot in here.”
“Elinor, this is not time to make fun of your uncle,” he warned.
“Oh, very well. What were you asking?” She feigned a look of complete absentmindedness.
“Grace, Lady de Courtenay,” he hissed. “Is she or is she not married?
Elinor snapped her fan shut. “Whatever gave you the idea the lady was married in the first place, Uncle?”
“I suppose being introduced to her husband may have had something to do with it,” he answered with clenched teeth. “And the fact she is not known as Lady Grace.”
“Her husband? Adrian, Lord de Courtenay?”
“Is there another that goes by that name?” he mocked. “Lady de Courtenay was the one who introduced us.”
Elinor looked puzzled. “She introduced her brother to you as her husband? How singular. Making a joke of such an important matter is completely out of her character. Surely you are mistaken?”
“I am telling you she introduced him as Lord de Courtenay…”
“And?” Elinor prodded.
Nicholas plopped down upon the chair, reviewing their past conversation. He had not stuck around long enough to listen to the remainder of her introduction. She was not married. “…and your uncle is a complete and total idiot.”
“I see. Well, I confess my father may have previously claimed such a description when he refers to you. Lady de Courtenay was married to her second cousin, who held the earldom. He died only a short time after they had wed. The gentleman you see here at Hollystone is her younger brother, who inherited the title since his sister did not produce an heir.”
Bloody hell. Who named so many claimants to a title by the same name! No wonder he had been confused. Though the little sister’s name should have been a clue. If Lord de Courtenay’s father had been earl, she would be Lady Miranda, not Miss. He had made a hash of things. “How will I ever make amends to her?”
“There is nothing you can do about what happened in the past other than to set the matter straight with the lady. You do care for her, do you not?”
He peered at his niece before setting the mask back upon his face. “Of course I do, but we have quarreled. I highly doubt the woman will have anything more to do with me. Whatever am I to do?”
Elinor gave him a hug. “I suggest you go and find your lady. I believe your apology will require a fair amount of groveling to get back in her good graces. Do a good job of it, Uncle Nicholas. Grace is a lovely lady and would be a wonderful addition to our family.”
Groveling. Yes, he would indeed need to grovel and beg her forgiveness, at her feet if necessary. He began to pray in earnest that she would forgive him for thinking the worst of her.
Chapter 13
Grace bowed to her partner when the music ended. She left the dance floor in search of the table where she had left her bow. She instructed a servant to take it back to her room so she would not misplace it again once she found one that was free to do her bidding.
She and Adrian had had a brief hushed conversation after his return from their sister’s room. Poor Miranda. Aldridge and his brother had done their job well, and Grace swore this was the last time she would ever make a wager with Miranda; too many people could have been hurt by such a silly bet. Miranda could keep her bonnet and muff, especially when Adrian had told Grace that their sister had been mortified by the gentleman’s proposition, as any innocent young lady should be. She had no idea that the Merry Marquis and his brother would invite Miranda to be their mistress… together!
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and froze when a familiar scent of cologne caused her heart to begin a frantic pace. Her breath left her in a rush of excitement. Or was it betrayal that she would still be so affected by one man. Oh, no. Please, God, do not let Nicholas be standing this close behind me, she whispered a silent prayer to a higher being. Her heart would not be able to stand another beating.
“I have been a fool.”
She knew that voice as surely as she knew her own.
“I will not debate such a fact with you, sir,” she replied without turning, afraid that once she looked upon his face she might throw herself into his arms.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Yes, you do, not that I should accept such an effort.”
“Can you forgive me, Grace?” he asked quietly.
Her bruised pride got in her way of thinking clearly. She whirled around to look upon him, the domino mask a vivid reminder of her first kiss with this man. He was not playing fair, not playing fair at all!
“Forgive you for what, my lord?” she snapped harshly, her anger getting the best of her. “Which offense should we address first? Forgive you for not allowing me to explain that Adrian was my brother and assuming I was an unfaithful wife? Shall I forgive you for basically treating me like a woman of ill-repute when I came to your room? Or even worse… should I forgive you for allowing myself to fall in love with you despite it all?”
She gasped, realizing her mistake in confessing her feelings to a man who surely must have no heart. Just how loud she shouted her words at him she could not say, but she was thankful for the noise of the musician’s playing nearby drowning out their conversation.
He took her by the elbow and maneuvered her out the nearest door before she came to her senses and realized what he was about.
“Just where do you think you are taking me, Nicholas?” she fumed. “Let go of me.”
“I am not going to discuss our lives in the middle of a ballroom with all of society there to witness our fighting for their entertainment and gossip.” He opened a door to a small salon and closed it behind them.
Grace backed up into the room until she stood her ground. This man would not intimidate her nor bend her to his will.
“You love me?” Nicholas inquired, hope shining in his eyes.
“Is that all you heard?” she asked in disbelief.
“Of course not, and I deserve everything you throw at me. You must know I care for you.”
Grace was unsure what sound came out of her mouth. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“I thought you were married…”
“…and you would have known that I was not, if you had but cared to listen to me instead of treating me like a woman with no morals.”
“We have both been behaving fo
olishly,” he murmured in a husky whisper.
“I do not see how I have been the one to act the fool,” Grace replied with a flip of her head.
“No? What about your behavior at dinner on Christmas? Do you have any idea what kind of a man you were flirting with when you chose the Marquis of Aldridge to make me jealous? The man has had more mistresses than most can count.”
“Aldridge was a perfect gentleman,” she retorted sharply before her eyes widened. “You were jealous? Of me talking with Aldridge?”
“Of course, I was jealous of the man. He shall be a duke one day. What woman would not like to receive the attentions of the Merry Marquis? Besides, at the time I thought you were hoping to take him as your lover, since you had all but refused my offer to become mine.”
She stomped her foot then lifted her chin. “If this is your way of apologizing, Lord Nicholas, you can keep such an effort to yourself. Once again, you have no idea about why I was behaving toward the marquis as I was, nor did you give me ample time to explain myself before you jumped to the wrong conclusions.”
“Grace…” He held out his hands.
She held up hers to halt him coming any closer. “Stay away from me, Nicholas. There is nothing you can do or say right now to make amends when I am this upset.”
She opened the salon door and ran straight into Aldridge.
“There you are, my dear. You appear as though you need cheering up. Come dance with me. I am told that I am more than capable of pleasing a lady… on the dance floor, of course.” He held out his arm.
Grace placed her hand in his care, knowing he would understand what was going on. With one last look behind her, she saw Nicholas standing ramrod straight, a grim expression on his handsome face. His fist slammed into the doorframe.
Chapter 14
New Year’s Eve
Grace patted her hair while she rushed down the hallway. She had received a most urgent summons. The Duchess of Haverford requested her presence immediately. Thinking that something terrible had happened, she hurried as fast as she could. Why else would she be called to see her hostess unless there was some sort of emergency?
She was about to knock on the door when it was suddenly opened. The doorframe was filled with none other than Nicholas, looking devilishly handsome in his evening attire for tonight’s charity ball. His face lit with a roguish grin as if he had some secret he dare not share with her.
“Lady de Courtenay,” he murmured with a bow.
Politeness demanded she acknowledge the gentleman before her. She nodded. “Lord Nicholas.”
He stepped aside so she could enter the room before he closed the door behind her. She shook her head to get Nicholas out of her mind and walked across the room to meet her hostess.
“You wished to see me, Your Grace?” she asked, dropping into a deep curtsey.
“Ah, Lady de Courtenay. Yes, my dear, I did wish to see you.” The duchess waved to a chair beside her own. “Please, take a seat. I have had a most unusual proposition. Or, perhaps, not so unusual.” She did not smile, but her eyes crinkled with amusement. “I could not say ‘yes’ without speaking with you, but five hundred pounds for our fund? It is a great deal of money.”
“Five hundred pounds?” She accepted the seat indicated. “Such a sum is indeed very generous to our cause, but what does such a donation have to do with me?”
The duchess’s eyes twinkled. “Rather a lot, my dear, but what will you think of it? That is the question.” She waved toward the tea trolley. “Tea?”
“If you think I will need something to fortify myself, then yes, I would love some tea. Shall I pour?” Grace asked, now curious as to what this conversation would reveal.
“If you would, my dear. And you can decline, of course. I will not think the less of you, and no one else will ever know. Except Lord Nicholas, of course.”
The tea cup rattled in the saucer she was handing to the duchess. “Lord Nicholas?” she managed to whisper. Grace succeeded in passing the duchess her cup without disaster. She placed her shaking hands in her lap, afraid tea would spill all over the trolley if she were to attempt to pour another serving.
“Ah.” The duchess nodded wisely and sipped her tea. “Thank you, Lady de Courtenay. That is just as I like it.”
“You are welcome, Your Grace. You were saying about Lord Nicholas…”
The duchess hesitated for a moment, looking thoughtfully into her cup. “Lord Nicholas has offered five hundred pounds to the fund in return for a boon. You are, of course, free to refuse. And if you do, I shall say nothing further, and neither shall the gentleman.”
Her brow rose. “And just what is the gentleman asking in return for helping our charity?” Her fingers whitened in her lap while she clenched her hands together, almost afraid to hear what the man wanted from her.
“A kiss, Lady de Courtenay. He will give five hundred pounds to the fund in return for the right to give you a kiss.” She hurried on, while Grace gaped at her, “Nothing more than has been happening all over this house under the kissing boughs that almost every room sports, but if you have a distaste for the man, there is nothing more to be said.” She took another sip of her tea.
Grace snapped her lips shut. On one hand, his offer was a vast amount of money he would donate to a worthwhile cause that Grace believed in. On the other, she was trying her best not to think that Nicholas was attempting to buy her favor. She swallowed hard.
“Sometimes a kiss is not such a simple thing, Your Grace. I have never been one to think that such an intimate gesture between two people is so frivolous that a kiss can be easily given away,” she finally voiced, her tone somber as she pondered what the possible outcome could mean if she gave in to Nicholas’ request.
Her Grace tipped her head slightly to one side. “Hardly… given, my dear. The gentleman, it seems, places a high value on the favor. But I do not mean to over persuade you. You are correct. Between two people who have feelings for one another, a kiss is by no means a simple thing.”
“I fear I must ask… you do not feel his motives were to make sport of me? We did not exactly part on friendly terms after our last conversation together,” Grace stated in a rush. She continued on before giving the duchess time to reply. “I will admit that I do care for the gentleman and can only hope that we can move forward after the many misunderstandings we have had in our past. I am sure you can understand my concern that this is not just some cruel joke to be played for those who may witness the kiss,” Grace confessed with a worried frown.
“My dear, I do not think it. Lord Nicholas is not such a cad as to seek to embarrass you in public. I can only speculate, but he seems to have a sincere regard for you. Tell me, Lady de Courtenay, you mentioned an unpleasant parting. Was the unpleasantness all on his part? Did he offer any overtures of friendship?”
“My temper and pride got the better of me, so I can in all honesty say our parting was at least partly my fault. He did try to offer his apologies, but I was too angry to listen to his attempt to make things right between us.” Grace could feel the blush rush across her face. This had become a most embarrassing conversation.
The duchess put a gentle hand on Grace’s arm. “Perhaps, my dear, he hopes for a chance to show you how he feels, without the barriers erected by your temper and pride… and his, too, for I am sure he has been mostly at fault. I must say, my dear, that if you intend to kiss the gentleman sooner or later, the fund may as well have the five hundred pounds.”
Grace did her best to suppress her smile but failed. “I can see your point, Your Grace, and must offer my sincere thanks for your council.” Her mind was already made up. “Do you happen to know where I might find Lord Nicholas? I would hate to keep the gentleman waiting.”
The duchess raised one elegant brow. “I believe Lord Nicholas was going to the parlor I use as my writing room. You will do it, then?”
“Yes, of course I will.”
“Should I come along to see fair play and safeguard your repu
tation? No. I thought not. Enjoy yourself, my dear, but not too much.”
“If you will excuse me? And I promise I will be careful.”
She left the room after a hasty curtsey, but not so quickly she did not hear the duchess say, “But not too careful.”
Chapter 15
Nicholas set the quill down at the writing desk after finishing his note to his solicitor who would take care of his request for the transfer of funds to the charity. Even if Grace decided to decline his offer, he would still contribute the money to her and Elinor’s cause.
Impatient, Nicholas paced in front of the lit fireplace in the small Jacobean parlor where the Duchess of Haverford suggested he await Grace’s decision. To occupy his thoughts, he gave the slightest bit of attention to the rich red silk wallpaper and family portraits scattered along the walls. How long could it take to have what should be a quick yes or no answer? Perhaps, since he was still waiting, he already knew what the lady’s reply would be.
He was just about to leave the room and seek out the lady for himself, when he saw her standing in the entryway to the parlor. He had no idea how long she had stood there watching him while he had been lost in thought. She appeared beautiful in her evening attire and stood under a bright batch of mistletoe hanging from doorway with a deep red bow.
His eyes skimmed over her face in an attempt to figure out her mood, but there were no hints to give such secrets away. Grace watched him just as intently.
They took a step toward one another simultaneously.
“You─”
“I─” She laughed lightly from across the room. “We seem to have a habit of this, do we not, my lord?”
His lips twitched in response to hearing her voice. “A few times, perhaps. You came,” he replied, finishing his sentence.
Grace took several steps forward. He did as well, lessening the space between them but still keeping her at a distance.
