A Reluctant Betrothal (The Grantham Girls)

by Amanda Weaver

  Grace blushed again, but couldn’t deny the accusation. “I do love him,” she sighed.

  “And he loves you. I can see this from the minute he walked into the gallery. He has eyes only for you. I thought maybe he would just pick you up and carry you away.”

  “I think he does love me, but it’s not enough.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No, he’s got his title to think of, his position in society. It’s important to him. I’ve got nothing of that sort to offer him.”

  “You have plenty to offer him, and it seems he sampled it all last night.”

  “Good heavens, will you keep your voice down? Someone might come in and hear.”

  Madame Duvernay gave one of her enigmatic French shrugs. “What do you care who hears? You let him into your bed, but you won’t marry him. Seems you’ve chosen your path. Just be sure you wish to live with the consequences.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Ah, my little duchess, I think not. Marrying your duke...that’s right for you. Being his mistress? Non, you are not that girl.”

  Grace swallowed down her own misgivings and raised her chin, trying to feel as confident as she sounded. “Well, I am now.”

  Madame Duvernay chuckled and shook her head. “We’ll see, ma chérie, we’ll see.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Julian wandered into the gallery at five. Grace introduced him to Madame Duvernay, the brash Frenchwoman he’d seen the day before. All he really wanted was to have Grace to himself, but she insisted on staying until the gallery closed. After twenty minutes of his loitering, Madame Duvernay sighed in exasperation and shoved them both out the door.

  “Go, go, and take her, Duke,” she griped good-naturedly. “But let the girl get some sleep tonight, please. She was good for nothing today.”

  Grace’s face flamed with embarrassment, but Julian just threw back his head and laughed, reaching for her hand. “I’ll see what I can do, but I promise nothing.”

  “Julian!”

  “Come, Grace, let’s get some dinner. You must be famished.”

  He wanted to take Grace straight back to her flat, straight back to her glorious sun-washed little bedroom, straight back to bed. But he was hungry and she must be, too. She needed a meal consisting of more than a loaf of bread and some cheese. She’d need her strength tonight.

  He took her to a cafe on the edge of Menton’s main square, the same cafe he’d been sitting in when he’d first spotted her across the plaza in the middle of the moucouleti. The moment his carefully ordered life had shifted off its foundations, even if it had taken him a while to realize it.

  She glanced around herself uneasily.

  “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

  She shook her head. “No, this is fine. It’s only...everyone will see us together.”

  It was very early for dinner by French standards, so there were, at present, only a handful of people sitting on the cafe terrace. Most of them looked like they’d been there since lunch and hadn’t bothered to leave.

  “I don’t care who sees us.” He cocked his head and looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Do you?”

  “No. Not at all,” she said, mustering all her false bravado. “Besides, we can have dinner together. There’s nothing untoward about our being in each others’ company like this.”

  “Considering everything else we’ve done, there’s something delightfully untoward about us being together.”

  “You’re as bad as Madame Duvernay,” she muttered, allowing him to pull out her chair for her.

  “She’s quite frank. I like that.”

  Grace laughed. “Frank. Yes, she is that.”

  “You told her about us?”

  “She guessed. She said she could see it in my face.”

  “Yes,” he said, smiling at her. “You do look rather...well-pleased.”

  A blush crept slowly into her pale cheeks again. He loved that blush. He wanted to reach out and run his thumb across her cheekbones where it settled. Perhaps they could make do with just a baguette and some cheese after all. Just then the waiter approached, so he contented himself with ordering a carafe of wine and a hearty steak for Grace and one for himself. Strength, and all.

  “Tell me how you met your remarkable Madame Duvernay.”

  She related the tale, of wandering into the gallery and convincing the dowager to buy a painting, and of Madame Duvernay approaching her afterward and offering her a job, selling to the plentiful English tourists in Menton. Their dinner arrived as the sun began to set behind the buildings. One by one, the lamps around the plaza flickered to life as they ate.

  “You’re lucky to have met her.”

  “Yes, it was the most fortuitous timing, otherwise I’d be in Bombay by now.” Grace took a sip of her wine, as if she hadn’t just said the word “Bombay.”

  “Pardon? Why on earth would you have been in Bombay?”

  “To work, of course. I’d been offered a position as governess to the daughters of Major Herbert, who is stationed there. I received the offer the day before I met Madame Duvernay.”

  “If you were going to work as a governess, why were you going all the way to India? Why not stay in England?”

  She looked down at her plate, turning her knife over in her fingers. “I thought it would be easier—if I was far away and not in danger of seeing anyone I knew. Seeing you.”

  Julian slowly let out his breath. Bombay. She’d been about to run all the way to Bombay. He’d have followed her there, of course. There was no place on Earth far enough to keep him from her. But the near miss left his hands shaking.

  “I’m doubly grateful to her, then,” he said, after he’d cleared his throat and composed himself. “For saving me the trip.”

  Grace’s eyes flew up to his. “You wouldn’t have...”

  “Oh, yes, I would have. I think you underestimate me, Grace. I’d have gone as far as necessary to find you, and once I did—now that I have—I don’t intend to leave you again.”

  She laughed nervously. “You have to go back to England eventually, Julian.”

  He held her gaze steadily with his own, so she couldn’t mistake his intent. “No, I don’t, if you’re not going there with me. I intend to be where you are, and if it’s in Menton, then I’ll stay in Menton.”

  “But—”

  “I had my things brought from the hotel to the flat this afternoon. I hope you don’t mind the presumption, but it will make things much more convenient.”

  Her face froze. “You what?”

  “I told you, I’m staying wherever you stay.”

  “But... You can’t!”

  “I have.”

  “What about your father?”

  “What about him? What’s he got to do with anything?”

  “Everything! After what he did...” She broke off, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. “After leaving your mother and running off to France with his mistress... Julian, I know what that did to you. You can’t possibly be considering doing the same thing.”

  “It’s not the same at all. Unlike my father, I don’t have a wife at home, and you don’t have a husband. We’re free to do as we please, to love whom we wish.”

  “Still, the gossip—”

  “Grace, you could easily save my reputation and make an honest man of me, you know. Just say the word. Actually, two words. Very small ones. ‘I do.’”

  “Julian—”

  He held up a hand to stop her. “But you’ve made your position on that perfectly clear, so I won’t press you.”

  “It’s you I’m thinking of.”

  “So you keep saying. Only I’m left unable to marry the woman I love, so I find it hard to see the good in it.”

  “It’s
only now you feel this way. In time—”

  Bloody hell. Forget who might see. He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “In time, I shall still be in love with you. I’ll never stop, Grace.”

  “You can’t say things like that to me.”

  “The truth? I’ll say it until it sinks in. Get used to it, because you’ll hear it every day for the rest of your life.”

  She blinked and tears filled her eyes.

  Enough of this cafe. “Are you finished? Perhaps we should go for a walk.”

  She nodded and let him help her from her chair. As they crossed the cobbled plaza, he took her hand in his and perhaps it was the wine, or his repeated declarations, but she let him take it.

  The plaza became more lively as the hour grew later. The sky overhead was ablaze with the vivid colors of a seaside sunset. It was one of the things Grace liked best about Menton, the soft sea air and these spectacular sunsets. Families and groups of friends had begun gathering in the cafes lining the plaza, drinking, eating, laughing. Children shouted and chased each other around the fountain.

  Julian’s hand in hers felt so natural, so right. She floated along at his side, warmed by the food and wine, tethered gently to the earth by every loving word he’d said. Did he really mean all those things? That he’d stay here in Menton forever with her if she wished it? And if he did mean it, what did that say about him? The Julian from so many months ago wouldn’t have ever considered such a thing, not for any woman. Had he changed so much?

  Her heart gave a pang, imagining such a blissful future, with Julian forever. As more than his lover—as his wife. She was perilously close to wanting, despite having spent a lifetime teaching herself never to want anything. Wanting was dangerous. Wanting made you forget reality. Wanting made you reckless.

  What if she stopped, just for once, being sensible, and did something truly daring, like marrying him? There could be no greater leap of faith, plunging into the abyss of the future, with only Julian to hold onto.

  Right now, he felt as stalwart as a mountain, but would he always? Would he always look at her with this light of love in his eyes? Would he always be amused when she made friends like Madame Duvernay? Would he always be proud of her for fending for herself?

  Or in time, would having a wife with no family, no fortune, who’d had to work to support herself, become an embarrassment to him? Would the whispers which would likely always travel in her wake—about her father, about her broken engagement, about her living situation in France—change how he saw her? If he was never able to make his way forward in the House of Lords because of the woman he’d married, would he grow to resent her?

  It was hard to imagine the Julian of the present ever looking at her with anything less than utter devotion. What if it didn’t fade away? What if it lasted forever? All her noble resolutions to let him go felt shaky, built on sand when the tide was about to come in to wash it all away.

  “You were right here,” Julian said, his voice a low rumble in the twilight.

  “Me? Where?”

  “You. You were walking exactly this way through the crowd when I got up to follow you.”

  “I can’t believe you remember that.”

  “I remember every moment of that night.”

  “It was Frederick, you know.”

  “Who was?”

  “The man pursuing me. He told me so the next day. He thought I’d find it exciting, being chased through dark streets by a stranger.”

  At her side, Julian stiffened, every inch of him hardening with barely restrained fury. “That bloody bastard. I should have killed him when I had the chance. I still might.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ve made his grandmother cross with him. That’s a worse fate.”

  “Still, I wish I’d landed a few more blows. He deserves it.”

  “Why did you follow me? You didn’t know me.”

  “You looked frightened. And...” He blew out a gust of air and tilted his head back to look at the sky, fading into deep russet and purple as night crept in. “I don’t know. There was something about you. You had nothing to do with me or my world. You didn’t seem a part of this world, either, standing by yourself in the crowd. I couldn’t stop looking at you. And when that bastard started pursuing you, my fate was sealed.” He turned to look at her, smiling.

  “I wish...”

  “What? What do you wish?”

  “I’m not sorry. About you and I. But perhaps it would have been better for everyone if you’d never seen me. Never gone after me. Look at all the people we’ve hurt.”

  Julian stopped walking and tugged her around to look at him. That fierce, intense light was back in his eyes, the one which always seemed to go right through her and see her down to her bones. “Do you mean Honor?”

  “You and she have been meant for each other all your lives.”

  “And we would have been a disaster. Honor—as dear as she is to me, and despite our long acquaintance—I’ve never been able to view her as more than my sister. Which would have made marrying her extremely uncomfortable for both of us. Besides, sooner or later it would have dawned on her that she was in love with my best friend, and he with her. Then where would we have been?”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Julian slid his hands down her arms to grasp her fingers. “And you? You can’t tell me, despite the material advantages, you honestly wanted to marry Rupert?”

  “You know I didn’t.”

  “So...” He tugged her a step closer. “All that remains to tie it all up, is for you to marry me.”

  He made it sound so very easy. One tiny step, Grace. Just jump.

  She sighed and turned away. After a beat, he began walking at her side again.

  “What about Lord Dorney?”

  “What about him?”

  “He looked on you as a son. He had such plans for you. He must have been so angry.”

  “Not angry. A bit disappointed, but Honor said once he understood her feelings, and Rupert’s, he was satisfied. In the end, all he wants for her is her happiness.”

  “What about your housing works? I’m sure he’ll never be willing to help you with it now.”

  Julian smirked. “No, but that’s because he’ll be too busy helping Honor with it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was her passion behind the whole thing to begin with. I had the money and wanted to do some good. She pointed me in the right direction. In truth, it was always going to be difficult for me to overcome the political obstacles I faced to get it to happen. Honor doesn’t face those challenges. She’ll still have my money, but she’s going to work on the Council for the land allotment.”

  “Honor?” What had seemed a shocking idea when he’d first said it was becoming more and more obvious the longer Grace considered it. Of course Honor. Who better? The London County Council wouldn’t know what hit them when she stormed their ranks. There was no way they’d deny her anything she wanted.

  “She’ll be brilliant,” Julian said, warm fondness coloring his voice.

  “She will be. I’m sorry for your mother, though.”

  “My mother?”

  “She’s had her heart set on Honor. It’s clear.”

  “She wants me to be happy. After all she’s lived through, that’s all she wants for me.”

  “What if you’re right, though? What if, in the long run, this won’t make you happy? Perhaps disparities in situations in marriage do lead to resentments in time.”

  “No, I was wrong. My mother was unhappy because my father was a faithless bastard and because she gave up a man she truly cared for to marry a title. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Maybe he wouldn’t have come to resent her if he hadn’t needed her so much.”

  “Or
maybe it had nothing to do resenting her or with how much he needed her money. Perhaps he always wanted to be with someone else—a certain noblewoman already married to someone else. And my mother would never be able to win his heart as long as she wasn’t her.”

  “What’s happened to you, Julian? You used to be so certain about this. You even persuaded me. And now you’re telling me it’s all wrong? It’s all about love, and position doesn’t matter?”

  “I fell in love, that’s what happened.” He squeezed her hand and threw her a warm smile. “And yes, I was wrong about all of it. I’d be quite happy if you needed me, as long as you loved me, too.”

  “I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone. Not like that, not anymore. I’m taking care of myself quite well here.” Her father had led her into the dark as a child and left her there all alone. For years, she prayed someone—a man—would come to lead her back out, but none ever had. And now she’d found her way out all on her own, and the relief was so much the sweeter for having accomplished it herself.

  “I know you are, and I love that about you. Which is why it’s even nicer to be wanted. Do you want me, Grace?”

  She couldn’t lift her eyes from the cobblestones under her feet. It seems she’d already given up on trying not to want him. It was impossible. She wanted him with every fiber of her being. “You know I do.”

  “And I want you. I want you now, and I’ll want you in a month, and in a year, and when we’re old and gray, I’ll still want you. I’m sorry for asking you to marry me in London the way I did.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “No, I said that wrong. I asked you for all the wrong reasons. I was just trying to hang onto you, to keep from losing you to Rupert. I still thought we’d end in disaster.”

  “You see? I told you—”

  He squeezed her hand to cut her off. “Let me finish. I loved you and wanted you, but I hadn’t sorted out my own failings yet, so we might have indeed ended in disaster and it would have been all my fault.”

  “Your failings?”

  “Grace, I was an arrogant idiot, spouting all that nonsense about a marriage of equals. I’ve been forced to reexamine those beliefs and I can promise you, I’ve changed, in all the ways that matter. I’ve seen plenty of good examples all around me. My family in America is full of them. I was just too blinded by the one terrible example set for me by my parents to pay heed.”