by Laura Landon
He had to stop himself from laughing at the awestruck expressions on the Duchess of Biltmore’s, Lady Pratts’s, and Lady Franklin’s faces. His cousin just looked relieved that someone had arrived to rescue him from three of London’s most renowned gossips.
He and Grace greeted their guests most effusively and accepted their well-wishes with open smiles. Then he made sure the three ladies took note when his arm reached behind Grace’s waist and he pulled her close. It was important that a closeness in their marriage be acknowledged, that their affection for each other be beyond doubt. The radiant look Grace gave him when he touched her wasn’t lost on their guests.
“I’m so glad you’ve come to call,” Vincent said, looking at all three ladies. “My wife and I have been quite preoccupied accustoming ourselves to the routine of married life. I’m afraid we haven’t been inclined yet to venture out into society.”
Vincent saw the slightest skepticism on the three ladies’ faces and their glances drop to Grace’s waistline. He’d known that would be everyone’s first thought. He’d already convinced himself that what they thought didn’t matter to him in the least.
He smiled at Grace and led her to a comfortable love seat, then sat down beside her.
The women were seated on an oversize settee opposite them, and Germaine sat in a chair to Vincent’s right. Together the six of them formed a neat little circle.
“You have no idea how news of your marriage surprised us,” the duchess said, eyeing Grace as if searching for any sign of reluctance. Perhaps a hint of disappointment.
Vincent cleared his throat. “Yes. We knew the suddenness of our marriage would shock some, and even though Her Grace thought we should wait longer, I’m afraid I was the one who insisted we marry immediately. Wasn’t I?” he said, turning in her direction.
Grace’s cheeks flushed an endearing pink as she looked at him. Then she gave the perfect response by reaching over to place her hand atop his hand as it rested on his knee and saying, “And I was most wise in agreeing after only a momentary hesitation.”
Their skepticism seemed to melt as the Duchess of Biltmore joined in with the sighs she heard from Lady Pratts and Lady Franklin.
“Oh, here is tea,” Grace said when the door opened and Emily entered with a serving cart laden with tea and cakes and sandwiches. “I’ll pour while you ladies catch us up on all the latest news. And Mr. Germaine, we haven’t let you get a word in edgewise as of yet. I can’t wait to hear what news you have.”
Vincent sat back against the cushion and contentedly listened while Grace conversed with their four guests. Even Germaine seemed to enjoy himself, adding what he knew of the latest happenings.
The afternoon passed perfectly, their guests staying even longer than decorum indicated. In time, though, the Duchess of Biltmore and the Ladies Pratts and Franklin took their leave and only Germaine remained behind.
“I really should be going too,” he said, rising to his feet. “I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you again and to welcome you to our family,” he said, bowing over Grace’s hand. “May I extend my fondest well-wishes.”
“Thank you, Mr. Germaine,” she said with a trembling smile. “You cannot know how much your kindness means to me.”
“And to me,” Vincent added. “Here. Let me walk you out. There are a few items I’d like to discuss with you.”
Germaine left the room with Vincent behind him. They stopped when they came to the door. “I meant it when I said your wishes meant a great deal to me,” Vincent said seriously. “I was afraid after the conditions and stipulations I put down concerning your spending, your feelings toward me would change.”
“Nonsense,” Germaine said, taking his coat and hat from Carver’s outstretched hands. “You only did what you thought best. I realize that now.”
“My solicitor tells me you’ve done an exemplary job running the Castle Downs estate. That you’ve become a most conscientious landlord and seem to take a remarkable interest in the running of the estate.”
His cousin bowed graciously and hooked his cane over his arm. “I am only trying to live up to your expectations, Raeborn. It’s not easy walking in your shadow.”
“I don’t want you to walk in my shadow, Kevin. Your father would not have wanted that either. He would want you to cast your own shadow, to be the best man you are capable of being. I want the same for you.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I appreciate your confidence. Now I bid you good day.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“I had a most enjoyable afternoon. You are truly fortunate. Your wife is charming. Even though I was sure you would never marry again, I can see you’ve fit into the role of husband quite well. My congratulations. I am positive that this time you will get the heir you want.”
Vincent stepped back while Carver opened the door and watched his cousin leave. Vincent had worried overmuch about the immaturity of his younger cousin. Now he realized his concerns had been for naught. All the reports from his solicitor had been glowing. Perhaps the boy had just needed a firm hand all along and Vincent had been too blind to see it.
He walked back to the morning room feeling very good with the way things had turned out. Feeling very good at the excellent way Grace had handled entertaining their guests this afternoon. At her stunning talent at holding three of society’s most notorious gossips at bay. Yes, maybe everything would be all right after all. He’d already discovered it was impossible to keep her from touching his heart. Already found he cared for her much more than he’d intended. And all this in the less than three months it had been since he’d met her.
A smile spread across his face. He couldn’t wait to get back to her.
His smile vanished the minute he walked into the morning room and glanced at Grace’s slumped shoulders and pale complexion.
“Grace!”
He rushed across the room and pulled her into his arms. Her skin was cold and clammy, and she barely had enough strength to hold up her head.
“Vincent?” she said, her voice shaky. A light sheen of perspiration covered her face. “I’m fine. Just warm.”
Vincent held her closer. “I’ll get you to bed and call the doctor.”
“No, Vincent. I’m fine. Please, just sit with me for a moment.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
She lifted her face and smiled, but he didn’t believe her attempt was sincere. “Carver,” Vincent ordered, and Carver instantly appeared. “Bring Her Grace a glass of water.”
Carver quickly brought the water, and Vincent made her drink. He held her hand and sat with her until some color returned to her cheeks.
“There,” she said after a while. “I’m much better now.”
“Well enough to move?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Thankfully these spells never last long.”
His heart skipped a beat. “You’ve suffered from this before?”
“Of course. It’s quite common for women in my condition. Mary suffered terribly for the first few months, but Sarah I think was the worst. This is mild in comparison.”
He didn’t believe her. He couldn’t. Memories of the other times returned to haunt him.
“Don’t look so worried, Vincent. I’m fine. Your babe just wants to make certain I don’t forget he’s there. I think he’s going to be a very strong-willed infant.” She looked up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Just like his father.”
“I think I will be most displeased with him for the trouble he is causing his mother and will tell him the minute I meet him.” Vincent struggled to keep his tone light. The panic raging through him was almost more than he could bear.
“Do you know what I’d like, Vincent?”
Vincent held her close, all the while trying to keep his hands from trembling, his heart from racing. “No, Grace. Just ask and it’s yours.”
“I would like to go for a ride.”
Vincent dropped his gaze to hers. She wa
s serious. “Now?” He shook his head. “I don’t think—”
“I would like to ride through Hyde Park with the sun shining down on me and the breeze hitting my face. And you at my side.”
She reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips. He kissed her back.
“Grace, I’m not sure—”
She pressed a fingertip to his lips. “I am suddenly desperate to go out of doors.”
Vincent breathed a heavy sigh. How could he refuse her? “Carver,” he called, and the butler instantly appeared. “Have the carriage brought round.”
Carver’s eyebrows arched.
“See, Grace? Even Carver doesn’t think you should go out.”
“I know. But Carver is by nature a worrier. Aren’t you, Carver?”
“Yes, Your Grace. I do tend to worry overmuch.”
“You and my husband.” She sighed and shook her head. “I will have to do something about that.”
“As you say, Your Grace. I’ll have the carriage brought round and instruct Alice to put extra blankets inside. It is only the beginning of spring, and late afternoons can be quite chilly.”
“Thank you, Carver,” Grace said.
Vincent stood with his arm around his wife’s waist while they waited for the carriage to arrive. His turbulent emotions raged through him like an enemy’s army attacking from all sides.
“You are worrying, Vincent,” she said, leaning into him.
“Only a little, Your Grace.”
He felt her shake in his arms and knew she was laughing at him.
“You do not make a very good liar,” she said, then pulled away from him and looked up. “Do you remember what I told you, Vincent? I told you I had enough courage for the both of us. Trust me in this. There’s nothing to worry about. I will tell you if there is.”
He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. She was soft and smooth to his touch. “You are a rare find, Grace. I don’t know how you stayed hidden from the world as long as you did.”
“I was waiting for the perfect duke to find me.”
Vincent smiled, then bent down to kiss her. She raised her hand to stop him.
“Oh, no you don’t. Carver will be back any moment and I’ll not have him walk in on us again while we’re kissing. Pretty soon the staff will think that is all we do.”
Vincent laughed. “No, Grace. They already know that is not all we do.”
Vincent laughed harder when her cheeks turned crimson red. Then he took her for her ride, knowing he’d lost even more ground in his battle to protect his heart.
Chapter 17
Grace stood before the mirror while Alice fastened the tiny pearl buttons that ran the length of her gown. With each pull from the back, the emerald-green material stretched tight across the front—too tight.
“Enough, Alice. Unfasten it and bring me the peach gown. It is looser.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Grace stepped out of her gown and studied herself in the mirror while Alice went for the next gown. She was only in her fourth month, and already she’d grown so much that hardly any of her clothes fit. Why couldn’t she be like Caroline? Her babe would be delivered in less than two months, and only now was she forced to go into confinement. Grace would be lucky to last another two weeks.
“You’re going to be late.”
Vincent’s voice interrupted her from the door that separated their two bedrooms, and she turned.
“Do you want to stay home, Grace?”
Grace looked at him leaning casually against the door frame. He was so handsome it stole her breath. “No. This is Caroline’s last evening out before her confinement. I promised her we’d attend the opera with her and Wedgewood.”
“You’re sure.”
Grace smiled. “Of course. I just can’t decide what to wear.”
“I see.” He pushed himself away from the doorframe and stepped into the room.
He was nearly dressed, his pristine white linen shirt molding to his broad shoulders and his white satin cravat tied to perfection around his neck. Grace had to hold herself from walking into his arms.
A frown creased his forehead. “Aren’t you well?”
“I’m fine,” she said, sliding a smile onto her face. She tried to hold it in place while his gaze moved to her stomach. To her thickening waist.
“I think I’m not going to make it as long as Caroline before I am forced into confinement.” The frown on his face deepened. “I think our babe wants the world to know he’ll arrive before his time.”
Vincent raised his eyebrows and gave her an evaluative look. “I think I will send for the doctor again tomorrow.”
Grace’s eyes opened wide. “I just saw him last week. All he does when he comes is rock back and forth in his shiny black boots with his hands locked behind his back and ask me a lot of very embarrassing questions. Caroline won’t even let the man near her. She says even Anne knows more about birthing a babe than he does, and she hasn’t had her first babe yet.”
“Yet?”
Grace smiled. “She’s not sure, but she thinks perhaps. She has been married nearly five months, after all.”
A little of the color drained from Vincent’s face. She knew he needed a healthy dose of reassurance. “I’m fine, Vincent. Perfectly fine.”
“You’re still ill in the mornings.”
“Not always.”
“More than you should be.”
“It won’t last much longer. I’m nearing my fifth month. The sickness is almost always gone by then.”
“Perhaps we should go to the country?”
“Not yet, Vincent. I want to stay in London as long as possible. Caroline has decided to have her baby here, and I want to be with her when it comes.”
Grace saw the shocked expression on Vincent’s face, the look of concern.
“I don’t know, Grace. I don’t think—”
Grace held up her hand. “I have helped with the birthing of nearly every one of my nieces and nephews, Vincent. I’m not about to miss this one. Besides, Caroline promised she would be here when my time came too.”
Grace could see the anxious expression on his face, his fear almost palpable. She knew every day of her pregnancy was a torture for him. That he compared her illness and discomfort to what he’d experienced with Angeline and Lorraine. And the comparisons scared him to death.
Oh, she wished her pregnancy would be easier. Francie had two babes and wasn’t ill one day with either of them. Why couldn’t Grace be like her?
Grace looked at him, at his outward show of bravery. But beneath the surface she recognized his concern and worry. It was almost a tangible thing. His fear a living, breathing monster that haunted him day and night. She’d give anything to erase it, to make it go away.
She knew how hard he tried to separate himself from his fears. How miserably he failed.
Without hesitation, she walked to him, stopping only when her half-clothed body leaned against him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest. His arms instantly enclosed her in a tight embrace.
“Do you remember my promise to you, Vincent?”
“Yes, Grace.”
“I promised to give you a healthy son, and together we would raise him to be a fine young man.”
Vincent’s heart pounded beneath her ear.
“I also told you not to worry. I promised you I would be fine because I have enough courage for the both of us.”
His hands moved down her arms and over her body. She sighed in contentment. “Do not doubt me, Vincent. I need your strength. And you need my courage. Just know this. I have no intention of allowing anything to happen to me. How could I, now that I’ve found you?”
She held him tighter and let his strength seep into her.
“How did I survive before you, Grace?”
“Very poorly, I’m sure.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, his kiss tender and filled with a wealth of emotion. Then he deepened his
kiss, and Grace knew if they were to have any chance of meeting Caroline at the opera, she had to push him away.
“You’d better leave now, Vincent. I’m sure Alice is standing on the other side of the door, waiting for you to be gone so she can help me finish dressing.”
“We could stay home, you know.” There was a gleam in his eyes when he looked at her.
“No, we couldn’t. Now leave me.”
“Very well.” He walked to the door.
“Vincent?” She called out to him, stopping him before he left.
“Yes?”
“Did you find him?”
She saw the surprised look on his face he tried to hide. “Find who?”
“You know very well who. Fentington. I know you went out again this afternoon to find him.”
“Who told you I went to find him?”
“No one had to tell me. I know that is what you have been doing for weeks now.”
Vincent hesitated, then shook his head. “No. I didn’t find him. No one’s seen him since before we married.”
“Maybe he’s gone into hiding.”
“Perhaps.”
“But you don’t think so, do you?”
“I don’t know.”
He waved his hand through the air as if he wanted their discussion to end. And Grace would let it. For now.
“You’d best get dressed, wife. Before I decide the little you’re wearing is to my advantage.”
Grace laughed. “Out. I’ll be down in a minute.”
Grace placed her hand over her stomach and watched him leave the room. She prayed he would never find Fentington. She knew Vincent would kill him if he did. She didn’t want Fentington’s death on their heads.
But she didn’t want Vincent to be in danger. And she knew as long as Fentington was out there, Vincent was.
Vincent listened to the duet being sung at the end of the second act of Verdi’s Rigoletto, but he wasn’t really hearing the music. He was reliving the scene with Grace in her bedroom before they’d left. Reliving the fear that sucked the air from his body when he noticed how much the babe inside her had grown. And she hadn’t even reached her fifth month.
