by Wendy Vella
She bathed and dressed then decided on a tray in her room, as she had no wish to see her husband again so soon.
“Do you know if Lord Attwood is from home, Bessie?” Grace questioned her maid.
“He is at present taking breakfast, my Lady.”
“Please tell me when he has left the house,” Grace added, hoping he did so today, and soon.
She read, and then compiled a list of ideas on how to find who had stolen their translations. She had decided to seek help from the investigation service that had become well known for its successes. Supposedly the men behind it were noblemen, The Lords of Night Street. They had rescued kidnap victims, found stolen items, and solved a myriad of crimes, which had made headlines in the papers and no doubt increased their custom. She just hoped a few stolen letters were not too trivial for them.
“Lord Attwood has just left, my Lady.”
“Thank you, Bessie”
Grace nodded to the maid and quickly grabbed her coat and bonnet. He could not stop her from visiting Harry, however, she had no wish to have another argument with him about the matter, therefore she would avoid him wherever possible from now on.
Would he come to her room again or was last night the only time he would do so, until he wished to procure an heir? Surely he would have no further need for her now? Did he perhaps have a mistress who would see to his needs?
This thought depressed Grace, which was foolish, as she wanted no more of his attentions… did she? But he had made her feel something, and for a brief moment she had wanted more, before he’d hurt her.
Shutting those thoughts away, she vowed to examine them again later, for now she needed to see Harry and resume their search.
“May I be of assistance, my Lady?”
“Vidal!” Grace shrieked as he came up behind her.
“Apologies, my Lady.” He bowed deeply.
As usual he was immaculately turned out; unlike her, she thought, glancing down at her dull brown skirts.
“Miss Whitlow has called to see you, my Lady.”
“Oh… well then, I should see her, shouldn’t I?” Grace said, feeling her heart sink. She needed to visit with Harry. “Can you have a note delivered for me please, Vidal?”
“Of course.” He followed as she returned to her rooms and wrote a few words to Harry before sealing it. She had told him she was delayed but would arrive as soon as she was able. “Please see this gets to Lord Harrington.”
“Of course, and if you will follow me, I shall take you to Miss Whitlow.”
“Hello, Grace,” Miss Whitlow said as she entered the room. “I am glad to see you are well.”
“Good morning, Miss Whitlow.” Like the last time she had seen her, the woman was the epitome of elegance, in pale green, and like her cousin, could wear anything with that wonderful bone structure and elegant body. “Yes, I am quite recovered, thank you.”
“Beth, Grace, we established first name terms when first we met.”
“Beth,” she said dutifully, motioning for Miss Whitlow to sit.
“I have come to take you shopping,” she then said, waving away the offer of a chair.
“Have you?” Grace looked down at her dress. “I assure you it is not necessary, as I’m in no doubt you have more important things to occupy your time.”
“The Bartlet ball is in three nights, and you and Nick will be attending, surely?” Miss Whitlow said, unaware that she had just plunged Grace’s heart to her toes.
“Must I?”
“Yes. Now on your feet and we will be away to the dressmakers. It is short notice, but I shall bully Madame Nicole into creating something magnificent for you.”
“I-I’m not really good with clothing,” Grace said, hoping she would just leave.
“Now that does surprise me.”
Grace found herself laughing at the sarcasm. “In my defense, I’ve never needed to, as entering society was a rare thing for my cousin and me.”
“You are a woman, a beautiful woman,” Beth added, “and you do yourself an injustice to dress in such a manner.”
“I am not beautiful,” Grace said.
“Yes, you are, and you must do this if not for yourself then for your husband,” Beth added calmly.
She did not want to think about him, or indeed do anything that would benefit him, but she had no intention of saying those words out loud.
“Very well then, if I must. But I warn you that I have no notion of what to select or indeed what colors I should wear.”
“You leave that to me,” Beth said, taking Grace’s arm and leading her from the room and the house. She bundled her into an elegant carriage and they were soon rolling toward their destination, wherever that may be.
“Are you all right, Grace? Has my cousin treated you well?”
Grace, who had been watching the scenery pass by the carriage window, looked at her husband’s cousin. It was not this woman’s fault they had married, nor that she was unhappy, so she managed a smile. “Considering the circumstances preceding our marriage, we are rubbing along together.”
“Nick is a good man, if a little used to having things his own way,” Beth said with a smile.
“Yes, I noticed that.” Grace lapsed into silence once more as she thought about her husband. She was unused to people telling her what to do; in fact, most often it was she who directed Harry about, but she knew this would not be the case with the earl. He was a man used to making decisions for himself and others, a man used to people falling in with his wishes. Remembering his hands on her body last night, she shivered and hated herself for the small tremor of excitement that ran through her. What he had done to her was hateful, and she would never forgive him for it.
“Right, stop woolgathering, Grace, we have work to do.” These words were spoken as minutes later the carriage pulled to a stop.
It was muddy underfoot, and they had to step carefully, but reached their destination, surprisingly, without Grace toppling over. The shop was small, and she saw fabrics and trims everywhere as they entered.
“Madame Nicole, this is Lady Attwood. She needs an entire wardrobe, please, but a day dress immediately and a ball gown ready in three days.”
Madame Nicole turned her sharp eyes on Grace, studying her from neck to toe, before firing off a volley of French that Grace understood and wished she hadn’t. It was not complimentary, and contained words like shabby and horrendous, along with several unflattering comments about the fool who’d made the dress she was currently wearing.
“Really, madam, if you are too busy—”
“Come with me please, my Lady,” the seamstress said, taking Grace’s arm. Beth followed, throwing about words like overskirt and raised hemlines.
She was draped and pinned, tucked and measured, and by the time it was over, Grace was exhausted.
“I now have a greater respect for those women who are turned out immaculately night after night,” she declared, leaning her head back against the seat of the carriage.
“It certainly is not an easy process,” Beth said, smoothing the skirts of her pretty dress. “But worth it.”
“Really?” Grace had never wanted to preen, and never thought herself pretty enough to do so. Perhaps if she looked as the woman across from her did, it would be different. She had found to her surprise that she quite liked Elizabeth Whitlow. She was not empty-headed, nor prone to rambling on; she had a sharp wit and sly humor that Grace found herself enjoying.
“You are pretty, Grace, and it is a crime to see you dressed in such a….” She waved her hand about.
“Unstylish manner,” Grace supplied with a smile.
“My words were stronger, however, those will do. And your hair must be dressed properly; do you have a maid to do so?”
“Yes,” Grace sighed. “My maid has been begging me to allow her a free hand with my hair for many months, however I always insist on this bun.” Grace touched her hair.
“It is something to be excited about, Grace, not dread,” B
eth said gently. “I understand it is daunting. However, I promise that given time, you will enjoy it.”
Her life was changing in so many ways. She no longer woke every day in Harry’s house with Nipper. She was no longer a virgin, and now she must change the way she dressed. It was enough to unsettle a person.
“I’m not a woman who enjoys society,” Grace admitted honestly. “I do not seem to fit.”
“Society can be a great deal of fun, Grace, I promise you. If you look the part and have someone to talk with, then you will see how different things can be.”
Grace didn’t agree, but said nothing further.
“And now I must leave you as I have to visit a friend,” Beth said as they pulled up outside the Attwood town house. “But I shall see you at the Bartlet ball.” She then kissed Grace’s cheek and left her standing bemused, watching the carriage roll away.
Chapter Six
Looking up at the house behind her, Grace remembered the harsh words that she and the earl had spoken after her leaving yesterday without telling anyone. Perhaps she should at least tell Vidal of her plans before going to visit with Harry.
“My Lady, a note has arrived for you.”
“How did you know I was standing out here, Vidal?” Grace squinted up to the top step where the butler now stood.
“I heard the carriage pull up, my Lady.”
“Did you? Well, I think you must have excellent hearing to have done so,” Grace added, walking up to enter the house before him.
“Here is the note, my Lady.”
Opening the missive, Grace realized it was from Harry’s butler. It stated that he had a matter to discuss with her urgently.
“Does the earl have the carriage, Vidal?” Her heart was thumping inside her chest. Had something happened to Harry?
“He does not, my Lady. Shall I have it brought around for you?
“Yes, thank you, Vidal.”
The trip was a quick one, and she was soon letting herself into Harry’s house and greeting Nipper, who appeared to be more agitated than usual, turning his little body in tight circles and yipping loudly.
“What is wrong, Monty?” she said, looking at the butler’s worried face.
“I fear Lord Harrington has met with foul means, my Lady.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He left yesterday evening after receiving a note about the missing papers, but has not returned, and it’s my belief that last night someone searched the house.”
Ice slithered through Grace’s veins as she followed the butler into Harry’s office. It looked as it always did, papers everywhere, but as she had spent many hours in there, she saw at once that Monty was right. Things had been moved and not replaced, and Harry always kept things in exactly the same places. A well-ordered mess, he called it.
“Is anything missing around the house?” she questioned the butler.
“No, my Lady.”
“Do you know where my cousin went last night, Monty?”
“He said his direction was Moorgate, my Lady.”
“All right, thank you,” Grace said, sinking into Harry’s chair with Nipper in her arms. Harry rarely went out and never stayed the night from home. Something had happened to him, she could feel it.
Lowering the dog to the floor, Grace searched the desk for the card she had placed there yesterday. Putting it into her reticule, she made the decision to not wait to see if Harry returned. She sensed he was in danger and needed help, and these men could provide that… she hoped.
“I will send word of any news, Monty, and would ask you to do the same,” she said as she reached the front door. “I shall take Nipper with me,” she added, before closing it behind her. Inhaling deeply in an attempt to dislodge the panic that was now consuming her, she gave the driver the directions from the card and climbed into the carriage.
“Be safe until I reach you, Harry,” she whispered as minutes later she was once again rolling through the streets.
Nick was talking with Leo, as just the two of them were present at Night Street. They were discussing a case, but Nick’s mind was also on Grace. He needed to make her comfortable around him, but was unsure how to do that after what he had done last night. He was sure she had responded to him caressing and kissing her, but she had not enjoyed him taking her virginity, and he’d been a bumbling fool to have done so without making sure she was ready. The problem was he didn’t understand her as he did other woman. Most wanted something from him, but not Grace. She only wanted to be left alone so she could visit her cousin, the man who had saved her.
“Nick!”
“Sorry, what did you say?” Nick looked at his friend.
“Is it your wife who has you preoccupied or something else?” Leo said.
“My wife; however, I have no wish to discuss the matter, so please continue.”
“Surely you can control a woman like that, Nick? It is not as if she goes out in society or is demanding.”
“I have no wish to control her, Leo, and she is a lot stronger than she looks,” Nick added, remembering the way she had not backed down from him when he had yelled at her in his study yesterday.
“You don’t want to control her?” Leo said, frowning. “But you are the head of the household, surely you want her to do as you bid?”
“She is not a possession, for pity’s sake, and I have no wish to spend my life dictating to Grace. I want us to be friends.”
Leo’s brows rose in surprise as he looked at Nick. “Do you, by God? And what has brought about this change?”
“She’s more than we believed… I believed,” Nick muttered. “Much more.”
Perkins came into the room then. His face was flushed, eyes wide, and he looked as if he had been running.
“Is there a problem, Perkins?” Leo still looked stunned at Nick’s revelations.
“Ah… well as to that, my Lord,” Perkins swallowed and looked at Nick with such panic that the hairs on his neck stood.
“What?” Nick said, getting to his feet, because he had the feeling that momentarily, he would be running.
“A woman has arrived, my Lord, asking for assistance from the Lords of Night Street.”
“Nothing unusual in that,” Leo said, looking at Nick then back to Perkins. “Take down her details, and we shall see if it is a case worth investigating. You know the rules, Perkins.”
“It is a delicate situation, my Lord.”
“What’s her name?” Nick demanded.
“Lady Attwood, my Lord.”
Nick didn’t stop to think, he just ran from the room and up the stairs. Pushing the door open so hard it hit the wall with a thud, he then stalked toward the office they had set up for clients to wait in.
She stood at the window, hands clenched, forehead resting on the glass, and Nick stopped on the threshold. She looked defeated, her shoulders slumped, and his chest ached seeing her pain. Guilt filled him as he remembered last night and how he’d hurt her.
“Grace.”
She spun as he called her name, her face pale.
“What has happened?”
“Lord Attwood… what are you doing here?” She looked around him, confused. “Did you have someone follow me?”
She’d given him an excuse and he thought about using it. He could say he was here to see someone himself? Keep his name disconnected from the Lords of Night Street, but for some reason he did not.
“I did not have you followed, and had no idea that once again you had left the house without telling me. Did you bring a carriage at least?” he added.
“Yes, and my d-dog.”
She swallowed and the gesture told Nick how nervous she was.
“You own a dog?”
She nodded. “Yes, as I told you yesterday.”
He didn’t remember her mentioning a dog, but then they had thrown so many words at each other, that it was hardly surprising.
“Grace, why are you here?”
“I came to hire the investigative services
of the Lords of Night Street.” She lifted her chin, daring him to question her right to be there.
“Why?”
“That is my business.”
He’d woken hard for her that morning, his body wanting more of the woman who was his wife. But next time they made love, he would ensure she was a willing participant right to the end. She was dressed terribly once more, in an old gray coat and sturdy boots, with a faded bonnet, but now Nick knew what lay beneath he was no longer fooled. He looked at her face, the delicate curve of her nose and silken pallor of her cheeks, and realized his anger had blinded him to the beauty that was framed by the ugly bonnet.
“If you want help from the Lords it is my business,” he said softly.
Her eyes widened as she realized what he had said.
“Are you one of them?”
His nod made her shoulders droop. “Then I shall leave.”
“Because you believe I have no wish to help you?”
She didn’t say anything further but Nick saw his confirmation in her eyes. After all, he had hurt her last night, and that was after yelling at her. He shouldn’t feel angry that she believed what she did, in fact she had little reason to trust him, but for some reason it did anger him.
“Tell me what has happened, Grace?”
Her shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath.
“It’s Harry, h-he’s gone missing.” She was struggling not to cry, her hands clenched, eyes wide. “I-I would have found out sooner, but your cousin took me shopping, and then when I returned to your home there was a note from Harry’s butler, saying he wished to see me.”
“It is now your home also, Grace,” Nick said, not sure why he was making this point, but that he wanted to.
“I-I please will you help me, my Lord?”
“Grace, I am your husband, it is to me you should go for help.” Nick moved across the room. “I would expect to be the first person you sought, not an investigation service.” He didn’t stop until he stood before her, close enough to see the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
