Intimate Deception

by Laura Landon

  When they finished their dance, he took her to join Caroline. She bade him good night, then indicated she was tired and wanted to go home. Caroline quickly agreed. After wishing their host and hostess farewell, they walked out into the cool spring evening.

  The minute the nighttime air hit her, her mind suddenly cleared and she knew without a doubt what she had to do.

  “Are you still up, Linny?” Grace whispered after knocking on her sister’s dressing room door.

  Caroline’s lady’s maid opened the door.

  She heard Caroline’s voice from inside. “Come in, Grace. Is something wrong?”

  “No,” Grace said, stepping into the room. The maid left the room, closing the door behind her. “I just needed to talk to you.”

  Caroline rose from her chair in front of a mirrored table and sat down beside Grace on the floral settee angled before the fireplace. “What is it, Grace?”

  “I need a favor, Linny.”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “I would like to take you up on your offer to let me stay at your manor house for a few days.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes. For only a week or so.” Grace rose from the settee and walked to the other side of the room where Caroline’s desk sat in front of the window. “I’ll be back in time for your dinner a week from tonight. Would you mind?”

  “Of course not. Is something wrong, Grace?”

  “No. I just need to be by myself for a few days. And since you offered, I thought...”

  “Of course, Grace. You can take one of the servants with you. There’s only Herman and Maudie that live in, so if you want—”

  Grace shook her head. “No. I’ll be fine. I really do need to be alone.”

  “Very well,” Caroline said, rising to her feet.

  Grace couldn’t bring herself to look at her sister. Instead, she absently ran her finger along the edge of the desk. “Would you do me one more favor?”

  “If I can.”

  “Please don’t tell anyone where I’ve gone.”

  “Even the Duke of Raeborn?”

  Grace shut her eyes, trying to block out Vincent’s face. His kiss. The anger he was sure to feel when he found out she’d gone.

  “Yes. Even the Duke of Raeborn.”

  “Grace, is something—”

  “Please, Linny. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. I just need some time to myself. You know how I am. I’ve never been one to enjoy London and the endless round of parties and balls. I’ve always been content to stay in the country and live a more quiet life.”

  “And if he asks?”

  “Tell him I was called away unexpectedly. That I’ll be back in time for your dinner next Friday.”

  “I doubt he’ll accept that without question.”

  “Perhaps not. But by the time he finds out I’m gone, it will be too late for him to do anything about it. So it doesn’t really matter.”

  Caroline was quiet a moment, then Grace heard her breathe a heavy sigh. “When did you want to leave?”

  “In the morning. Early.”

  “Very well. I’ll have a carriage ready.”

  Grace reached out to give her sister a tight hug. “Thank you, Linny. Good night.”

  “Good night, Grace.”

  Grace went to her room and put enough clothes to last a week into a small trunk. When she finished, she slipped into a nightgown and slid beneath the covers.

  She closed her eyes with a smile on her face. This was the first night she felt a sense of real peace since she’d come face-to-face with the man to whom she’d given her virginity. She was sure all she needed was a few days away from everything and her situation would resolve. She could finally tell him with certainty that she wasn’t expecting.

  Grace felt better than she had in weeks.

  Until she woke up in the morning and barely made it across the room to a chamber pot before she was ill.

  Chapter 10

  Vincent let the heavy brass knocker fall against the front door and waited for the Marchioness of Wedgewood’s butler to open the door. After last night, he had decided it was time to inform Grace of his plans. Time to inform her they would marry within the week.

  He rubbed a hand across his jaw. He wasn’t sure how she’d take the news, but after watching her last night, he knew it was time. Even if she wasn’t sure whether or not she was increasing, he was. It was as if he’d known it from the start. From the moment he’d taken her virginity, he’d known he’d planted a babe in her womb.

  Bloody hell, but he wasn’t sure he could go through this again. She was so damn fragile. More delicately built than either of his first two wives.

  He fought a wave of anger and frustration as he stepped through the open door a butler held for him.

  “I’d like to see Lady Grace,” he said, handing his hat and gloves to the navy-liveried man.

  “I’m afraid Lady Grace is out, Your Grace.”

  Vincent stopped short. “Do you know where she is?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t, Your Grace. But Lady Wedgewood is in the morning room. She’s about to have tea. She’s expecting you.”

  An uncomfortable lump formed in the pit of his stomach.

  The butler didn’t wait for his acknowledgment, but led the way to the back of the house. With a soft knock, he opened the doors and announced the Duke of Raeborn.

  “Your Grace,” Lady Wedgewood said, extending her hand in greeting.

  Vincent walked across the room and bowed over the marchioness’s hand, kissing it formally.

  “Please be seated, Your Grace.”

  Vincent sat in the chair opposite the marchioness and waited. There was a tenseness in the room, a feeling of anxiety. As if his presence were part of a play, a well-rehearsed play familiar to all the characters except him.

  His chair was positioned at an angle, far enough from the settee on which she sat so his closeness was not too intimate, yet near enough for easy conversation. For easy interrogation. It was obvious she’d been expecting him.

  A small nervous warning churned deep in his gut. Something was wrong.

  Lady Wedgewood leaned forward to the edge of the settee and daintily poured two cups of tea. “Cream and sugar?”

  “Just cream.”

  Vincent watched as she poured cream into two cups. If he wasn’t mistaken, her hand trembled slightly. Another wave of unease jolted inside him. “I have come to see Lady Grace,” he said, keeping all emotion out of his voice.

  “I’m afraid Grace isn’t here at the moment.”

  Lady Wedgewood held out a cup and saucer then sat back against the cushion when he took it from her. Not once did her gaze meet his, and this time there was no doubt her hands shook.

  “Where is she?”

  Lady Wedgewood breathed a deep sigh, then took a small sip of her tea. “I’m not at liberty to tell you that, Your Grace.”

  “Why not?”

  She looked him in the eyes. “I promised Grace I wouldn’t.”

  Vincent tried to dampen the fury building inside him but knew the effort was useless. “When did she leave?”

  “I’m not sure that is important, Your Grace.”

  “When?” he repeated.

  “Early this morning.”

  “Did she give a reason for wanting to go away?”

  “She said she needed to be alone for a few days. Grace isn’t accustomed to London life like you and I and occasionally prefers solitude.”

  “It is imperative that I speak with her. Please, tell me where she’s gone.”

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible. Grace was quite emphatic in her instructions. She wants to be left alone.”

  Vincent bolted from his chair. “And I don’t want her to be alone right now.”

  He heard the sharp gasp from Lady Wedgewood. “With all due respect, Your Grace, I hardly see where you have the right to determine what decisions my sister makes. Nor is it your concern where she goes. Have you once considered you might be
the reason Grace felt the need to leave London and have a few days to herself?”

  Vincent saw the anger in Lady Wedgewood’s eyes and heard the determination in her voice. He knew he would never find out where Grace had gone simply by asking.

  “What hold do you have on my sister? What pressure are you putting on her?”

  Vincent rose and walked to the window. He stood with his back to her, his shoulders rigid and his hands clasped behind his back.

  “I don’t know what it is,” she continued, her voice as harsh as he imagined it had ever been, “but I’ve felt for some time now there is something not quite right between you and Grace. As her sister, I feel it my responsibility to protect her in every way possible. I will not see her hurt.”

  “And I would never do anything intentionally to hurt her,” he answered without turning around.

  “Then what is between you that has upset her? Because she is upset. I have known so for some weeks now.”

  “I need to speak with her, Lady Wedgewood. Please, tell me where she has gone.”

  “I’m afraid nothing you have to say can possibly be so important it cannot wait. She promised she would be back in time for the dinner I am hosting next Friday night to welcome our youngest sister back from her honeymoon.”

  Vincent shook his head. “I cannot give her that much time.”

  The air crackled with tension. He knew he’d alienated Grace’s sister even more.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to. I can think of nothing so important that she cannot have the week she wants.”

  The perfectly manicured garden beyond the window where he stood escaped his notice. Vincent looked but saw none of the early splendid springtime flowers that would soon be in bloom. Nor did he notice two squirrels scampering from tree to tree as they chased each other. He saw nothing except Grace’s pale complexion, the dark circles beneath her eyes, the desperation when she looked at him. It should be obvious to her by now whether or not she was increasing. And if she was, he could not let her face it alone.

  He turned. “I will ask you once more to tell me where she’s gone.”

  “I’m sorry. As I’ve told you before, nothing can be so important that you need to bother her. You will simply have to wait until she returns in a week.”

  He dropped his chin to his chest and breathed a deep sigh, not eager to tell Lady Wedgewood what he suspected. He knew Grace hadn’t spoken her fears either. But she’d left him no choice.

  “There is something important enough.” Vincent faced Grace’s sister with all the regal bearing he’d been taught from the time he was old enough to walk. “There is the very distinct possibility your sister is carrying my child.”

  The cup and saucer in Lady Wedgewood’s hand fell to the floor. Tea darkened her skirt. All color left her cheeks as both hands flew to her mouth to stifle her cry.

  Vincent took one step closer to her, ignoring the scattered china lying at her feet. “If that is indeed the case, I don’t want Grace to be alone right now. Also, to avoid talk, it is imperative we marry as soon as possible. I have already obtained a special license and have made arrangements with Reverend Carrington to keep Friday afternoon free of any interruptions.”

  The Marchioness of Wedgewood swallowed several times before she was able to speak. When she did, her voice was shallow and strained. “It’s not possible. Grace can’t be—”

  Vincent held up his hand. “Suffice it to say, my lady, that there is a very good possibility.”

  Lady Wedgewood seemed to sway.

  “I do not divulge this information lightly, my lady. If there were any other way to gain the information I seek without exposing an embarrassment I am sure Grace intended to keep private, I would have done so.”

  Lady Wedgewood clenched her hands in her lap. She was visibly shaken. “I didn’t know,” she said. “Grace didn’t even hint that...”

  “I think she is still expecting a miracle of sorts. I’m afraid it will not come.”

  The marchioness drew in a harsh breath, then leveled him with a very serious stare. “Are you hoping for a miracle, Your Grace?”

  Vincent lifted his eyebrows. “I am a very practical man, Lady Wedgewood. I have never believed in miracles.”

  “I see,” she whispered, her hands clutched so tightly her knuckles turned white.

  “We will therefore marry as soon as possible. Next Friday at the latest. I am sure Grace would appreciate it if her entire family were in attendance for such a special occasion. If it meets with your approval, perhaps you would consent to holding the ceremony here, and the dinner you had planned for that evening can be a celebration of sorts.”

  “Of course.”

  “Now if you will tell me where I can find your sister, I’ll be on my way.”

  The Marchioness of Wedgewood wiped a stray tear from her cheek, then told him where Grace had gone.

  Vincent pushed his mount over the soggy English countryside, ignoring the lack of sunshine and the heavy mist that came down harder with each passing mile. He was chilled to the bone. She should be thankful. Perhaps by the time he reached her the cold rain would cool his blazing temper.

  But more than likely, it would only serve to irritate him further and inflame the anger growing inside him. Why the bloody hell had she left? What possible good would come from running away? He would never in a million years understand the female mind. Never understand what she thought to accomplish by avoiding him.

  Vincent lowered his head over his horse’s neck to protect himself from the falling rain and berated himself a thousand times over for not anticipating that she would flee. But estate business had consumed his entire morning and most of the afternoon, and he’d been forced to send his apologies and miss their scheduled ride. It wasn’t until he’d gone to Wedgewood’s town house much later that he found out she’d gone.

  He tried not to think of how angry he’d become when he realized she’d left him. Just as he forced himself to remember every reason he’d given himself to never search for a wife again. And he wouldn’t have. Except that she’d forced him to.

  He thought of her, thought of the night she’d lain beneath him, given herself to him, and knew it was a memory that would have to last a lifetime. Once this babe was safely delivered—and dear God, but he prayed it would be—he would never lie with her again. Would never risk getting her with child again.

  Just as he would never risk loving her. For the past month he’d courted her, danced with her, and talked to her. He’d laughed with her, held her, and made the mistake once of kissing her. He knew it would be ever so easy to fall in love with her. But that was one emotion he would never allow himself to feel again. He’d barely survived the loss twice. He wouldn’t go through the pain again.

  Vincent pushed his horse faster. He was soaked to the bone, and the sooner he got there the sooner he would be warm and dry. And the sooner he could get this confrontation over.

  He pulled his horse to a sudden stop and turned around when he realized he’d gone past the lane Lady Wedgewood told him would lead to the country manor where Grace had gone. He sat as straight in his saddle as the pouring rain would allow, then pulled on the reins and turned his horse around.

  His horse had only taken a few steps when Vincent was jolted by a painful stitch in his side. A second later, a muffled shot echoed through the air. It took another moment for him to realize he’d been shot. A moment more until real fear consumed him.

  Vincent clutched his hand to his side and looked to the right, to a small copse of trees. His eye caught a movement in the shadows, but he saw nothing except a white blur moving through the trees. He looked again, but it was gone. Vanished as if it had never been there.

  He tried to take a deep breath, but white-hot shards of pain spiraled through his chest, then shot down his arms to the tips of his fingers. He battled the overwhelming pain that consumed him, then after a momentary hesitation, he bent low and kicked his mount into a run.

  Another shot rang t
hrough the air. It took every ounce of his strength to hold on to the saddle. Every ounce of stamina to keep from falling to the ground.

  Vincent clutched his hand to his side and blood seeped through his fingers. Pain as hot as a burning poker consumed him.

  The sky spun around him and he realized he was in danger of losing consciousness. He barely made it up the pebbled lane to the front of the manor house before his world went black and the earth came up to meet him.

  “My lady, come quickly!”

  Grace rose from the bed where she’d been resting and rushed across the room she’d taken as her own. For a moment the room spun precariously, and she reached out to steady herself. The feeling didn’t last long but was followed by a rush of panic. She knew dizziness was just another symptom of what she could no longer deny was wrong with her.

  How could she ever face him now? What choice did he have but to marry her, to take her along with the child she was carrying?

  A painful weight pressed against her chest. Every single waking hour she’d prayed she hadn’t conceived. Prayed she wouldn’t have to spend the rest of her life with a man who didn’t want her. With a man she’d deceived from the beginning.

  A fine sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead. She was glad she was here and not in London. Glad she would at least have a few days to come to terms with what she now knew was fact before she had to face him. Before she had to look at the resignation in his eyes. His resolve to do what was right even though he didn’t want to.

  “My lady, hurry!”

  She ran across the room and opened the door, confused at the anxiety she heard in Mr. Featherly’s voice.

  Grace didn’t know them well, Herman and Maudie Featherly, but from the minute she’d arrived, their relaxed calmness had blanketed her like a soothing balm. She felt more in control of her life than she had since she’d seen Raeborn standing in the back of Caroline’s music room and knew she’d been discovered.