Alex hadn’t seen any of them since the day at Roundstone when he had kissed Lady Grace in the gardens and made a complete arse of himself. Not only had he not seen them, but he was glad for that fact.
Well, at least glad he hadn’t seen Lady Grace. In less than an hour’s time that day, he’d been forced to apologize to the woman three full times. He had no desire to reprise such a performance.
Although Alex hadn’t seen her in person in close to a fortnight, he continued to see her in his dreams. But where initially her eyes haunted him with their bleak emptiness, they now woke him with their fire. There had been heat in her blue ice when he kissed her. She couldn’t deny it, and he wouldn’t dream of it. He couldn’t blot the memory from his mind—but he couldn’t act on it, either. He should be trying to guard her virtue, not destroy it.
Nonetheless, he had told himself all along he had no intention of becoming entangled with a female. Any more contact with Lady Grace beyond simple, polite conversation would most certainly qualify as an entanglement. There were already more than enough entanglements waiting for his return in London.
It would be best for them both if they avoided each other in the future. Judging by all indications from her, Lady Grace would be more than amicable with that solution. Why, she hardly said a word to him on their previous encounter. He had gone on and on about his brothers and sisters—his whole life—and she barely strung together more than five words at a time.
She could have no objection to him staying clear of her company.
Today though, it appeared he must make an exception to this new rule of avoidance. He and Gil had come within calling distance, and Sir Laurence lifted a hand in greeting.
“Gil! And Lord Alexander, as well. What a pleasant surprise. We were just sitting down to luncheon.” With a smile, he glanced through the basket Lady Kensington and Lady Grace were busy unpacking. “As usual, Mrs. Finchley has packed far more food than an army could down after going hungry for a week. Would you care to join us?”
Sir Laurence walked to the two horses and held out a hand to aid Gil in dismounting, not waiting for a response. Apparently, a ‘yes’ was assumed. He led the earl to the blanket spread beneath an oak tree and assisted him in gaining a seat while Alex saw to the horses. He tried not to curse out loud about his rotten luck.
He put on a cheerful face before joining the others beneath the heavy cover of branches, hoping to hide his brooding. “Ladies, Sir Laurence.” Alex nodded to each in turn. “It’s kind of you to share your meal with us. We’ve been riding for a good spell now and I, for one, am famished.”
He sat next to Gil—and as far away from Lady Grace as he could manage without seeming altogether a cad, yet again.
The group ate and talked and laughed. Everyone took part in the conversation this time, including Lady Grace. She seemed much more vibrant than she had on their first meeting (other than those few rare moments when she had let down her guard) and not nearly as shy.
She looked stunning, sitting on the quilted blanket beneath a cloudy sky. Her smile reached all the way up to her eyes—to the point they sparkled like diamonds.
But she did her best to ignore his presence.
She spoke with Lord Rotheby, telling him of the painting she and her uncle planned to perform after their meal. She enquired after his health. She even asked his permission to someday visit and paint in his flower gardens, if he was so inclined to allow her intrusion. She talked and teased with her aunt and uncle. But she never spared Alex a glance, nor included him in her conversation.
Still, he could not keep his eyes from her. Even before, with the sadness blanketed over her features, Lady Grace was an absolute vision. With it removed, she honestly stole his breath.
He tried to focus on the conversation, but had little success. Alex even attempted to become cross or upset about her obvious exclusion of him from her part of the conversation, but couldn’t muster the emotions. He refused to feign them. He’d keep his dignity, even if it killed him.
All he could think about was her heat when he pulled her close, the light scent of something floral and sweet on her skin, and the passion in her eyes just after he kissed her.
“Lord Alexander?” Lady Kensington frowned over at him for a moment. “Lord Alexander?”
He snapped to the present with a jolt. “I am so sorry, ma’am. I was woolgathering. You were saying?” Blast, if he hadn’t been living in his own world for a great good while.
She patted his arm and gave him an indulgent smile. “I understand, sir. Our Gracie is certainly something to look at, is she not?”
Sir Laurence cleared his throat in an obvious warning to his wife. She sent a glare in his direction as she continued her new conversation with Alex.
“I was merely wondering if you had finished or if you wanted another sandwich. We certainly have more than enough, but you’ve hardly touched yours and everyone else has finished. Aren’t they to your liking? Anyway, feel free to help yourself to more if you wish.”
She cleared their luncheon away as she continued to speak, leaving a plate of cucumber sandwiches out where he could reach them. “I believe Laurence and Gracie are set to work with their paints for a bit now, and it seems your Lord Rotheby is prepared to take a bit of a nap. I think it is best if he just stays here to do so, rather than attempt to ride all the way back to Roundstone. How lucky we are, I planned ahead and brought a few extra blankets and such with me. I’ve been working on my quilting and embroidery, you know, and one can just never tell how much one will finish in a day!”
As Lady Kensington rambled, her niece stood and assembled easels and painting supplies for herself and her uncle, placing oils by her own canvas and watercolors by Sir Laurence’s.
The baronet helped Gil settle in a secluded spot under a nearby willow tree. Lady Kensington was right about Gil being too tired to make the return before succumbing to sleep. He stumbled as he walked with Sir Laurence. Alex supposed that meant he would have to spend even more time in the presence of the minx while she ignored him.
Deuced infuriating, that.
He ate and Lady Kensington droned on and on, about subjects he had neither the desire nor the intention of following. Alex nodded and occasionally raised an eyebrow, which seemed enough to keep the lady generally appeased. He didn’t think she really cared if he paid attention—it seemed to be more an issue of her own comfort. He doubted she was capable of sitting in silence for longer than a few seconds without sleeping, and he wondered if she was even capable of it at that point. She may be one who talked in her sleep.
While they sat, Lady Kensington worked on her embroidery and kept up a constant stream of chatter. He gazed at the river passing them by, but his thoughts kept returning to the two people who had been so consistently on his mind since his arrival in Somerton—Gil and Lady Grace.
After a while, he realized the garrulous buzzing of Lady Kensington’s incessant speech had—miraculously—ceased. A quick glance in her direction revealed that she, too, was asleep. Now he couldn’t even pretend to carry on a conversation with her, but must find some other way of passing the time until Gil had rested enough to carry on with their jaunt. So, he watched the two painters at their craft.
Sir Laurence was clearly a studied landscape artist. His piece looked almost identical to the scene before them, down to the smallest details like the rocks on the opposite side of the river bank. From an artistic standpoint, his work was perfect, while not necessarily inspiring. The painting was beautiful, but it lacked a certain finesse to take the piece from very good to great.
Lady Grace, however, was a true artist in Alex’s mind. Her painting was night-and-day different from that of her uncle. She brushed her oils in broad, sweeping strokes and bold flashes of color. While it was clear she had painted the same scene as her uncle, her piece something contained more. There was a mood in the painting. It conveyed emotion. The sky was not merely overcast, but dark and ominous, as it threatened to chase the bold color
s from the scene.
He was, in a word, flabbergasted by what he saw coming to life on her canvas.
Her brushes swooshed and swayed across the surface, with every flick of her wrist creating some new facet to convert the overall impression. As she worked, Lady Grace’s eyes gleamed. A series of emotions ran across her face and bled through the brushes into her painting. Alex was in awe.
After what could have been minutes or hours, she stopped. She took two steps back and looked deeply at her piece for a moment, then turned around to face him. Lady Grace beamed at him and allowed him to share in her moment of glory.
The expression on her face at that moment, he never could have predicted—she looked regal, imminently satisfied, and fully at peace. All of the emotions that had been working through her were somehow transferred to the canvas and left behind, at least for that moment.
If he had not seen it himself, Alex would never have believed such an intense work could have come from inside this tiny, perpetually fearful woman. Well, if not for the fact she still took deep breaths from her exertions, had splatters of paint covering her from head to foot, and had her hair flowing freely after having escaped from her pins.
She was breathtaking. Perfection.
“Good heavens, Gracie, you are a sight!” Lady Kensington said, coming up behind Alex. Her shout of dismay woke Gil as well, and he started to put himself to rights while Lady Kensington fussed over her niece.
Rotheby walked over to Alex and silently observed the scene while Sir Laurence continued as he was, ignoring the tumult his wife created with her dither. The baronet must experience such things on a regular basis to display no outward reaction to her.
Alex allowed himself a brief chuckle. Their marriage must have been quite interesting, all these years. Sir Laurence obviously knew how to handle his wife flawlessly.
“Shall we gather our horses and head back to Roundstone, old chap?” Gil asked. “I think I am ready to call this one a day.” He looked slightly refreshed after his nap, but Alex was not convinced he was recovered—certainly not fully.
“I am ready any time you are. I’ll ready the horses while you give Lady Kensington our thanks.”
Alex didn’t want to think he was avoiding Lady Grace by readying their mounts—nor by taking his time about it. So far, he had made it through this encounter with her without being forced into offering his apologies for a single action. He’d like to keep it that way, if possible.
Once he had untied the horses, he led them to the group and waited for a lull in the conversation. “We are much obliged to you for sharing your luncheon with us, Lady Kensington.”
She smiled graciously toward him before her expression turned a touch more devious. Oh, blast. What was she planning now? The woman had far too mischievous a gleam in her eye for his comfort—it made him think of the same look coming from Mama.
“Lord Alexander, join us for a meal any time you’re in need of one, or even when you’re not in need of one. Please, bring Lord Rotheby to visit at New Hill Cottage sometime.”
Lady Grace chortled under her breath, but Alex caught it out of the corner of his eye.
“You both have a standing invitation,” Lady Kensington. “Just drop in when you’re in the area.” The older woman could not have wiped the glee from her eyes if she tried. Just what he needed. Because, of course, the area was Somerton in general.
He didn’t care to take her up on the offer at any time in the near future. But Gil would enjoy such a visit, and Alex wanted to make his friend happy. “I am sure we’ll hold you to your offer sometime soon, won’t we?”
The earl nodded vigorously.
Alex nodded to the group. “Well, we must be on our way. Sir Laurence, Lady Kensington.” He took a long look at the woman who so fascinated him before he continued. “Lady Grace. It has been a pleasure, as always. I think Lord Rotheby has had enough for one day, haven’t you, old man?”
“Bah! Whippersnappers. You think you know everything.” Gil frowned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They walked away and gained their mounts. “Besides, I have already had a nap today. You, however, haven’t. I’d wager I’m more up for a ride than you at this point.”
It was good to see some of the old fire in his friend. “Are you up for a race, then? Now that our horses have had a graze and rest, they’re raring to be let loose.”
Gil’s eyes twinkled at the prospect.
“I’ll even let you have a head start,” Alex said. “Sampson will beat Peregrine easily. Go on, then!” He waited a few moments before spurring Sampson into a gallop.
Racing through the countryside, Alex felt alive. He had spent the day being ignored by a woman he intended to avoid, but yet the very woman who consumed him. Then he had agreed to stop in on her relatives at some point in the near future. Lord only knew why he would have done such a thing. But the fact remained, it was done. Bloody hell, what had he been thinking?
He’d have to honor that commitment, for Gil’s sake if for nothing else. Deuce take it all, now he’d have to spend even more time with the chit. And if today was any indication, she would continue to do everything in her power to pretend he didn’t exist.
That irritated him to no end.
Sampson quickly caught Peregrine from behind. Alex dug in with his heels, encouraging his horse to run harder. “Watch out, old man! We’re coming for you.”
Sampson was within a head’s distance of catching the other horse as they pulled into Roundstone Park’s arched lane. By the halfway point through the trees, Sampson was almost dead even with Gil’s mount. Alex pulled back, allowing Gil to take the win just as they pulled into the stables—doing his best to hide his actions. “Good race, old man. You beat me there at the end.”
Gil’s eyes narrowed. They dismounted and handed their reins to the waiting groom. “Yes, well. We’ll have to try this again sometime soon. With no head starts next time! I like my wins to be fair.” They walked side-by-side back to the manor house, a comfortable companionship between them.
How many more days like this would he have with his friend?
Chapter Eight
Aunt Dorothea had an invitation in her hands when she turned to her husband. “Laurence, Sir Augustus Wellesley has invited us all over for an evening of entertainments Tuesday next at Brightstone. Shall we accept? I think it would be lovely.”
Aunt Dorothea pointedly avoided Grace’s eyes.
Uncle Laurence never looked up from his papers and tea. “Sir Augustus? That should be fine dear. Do write out an acceptance and send it along.”
An evening of entertainments? Certainly such things went on in the country almost as often as in Town, but shouldn’t she avoid such an affair? It seemed the perfect way for word to travel to Father, and then he would know where she had run. Dare she take such a risk?
It was one thing to visit with Lord Rotheby and Lord Alexander and then picnic with them on the river. An entertainment was something else entirely. The risk seemed much too high. Besides, if someone there had heard of her situation, only shame and scorn could come to the Kensingtons for allowing her to stay with them. She couldn’t allow such a thing to come to pass, even if they were willing.
“Aunt Dorothea,” Grace said, hesitant to broach the subject, “would it not be more prudent for me to remain at New Hill…considering the circumstances? Perhaps you should accept the invitation for yourself and Uncle Laurence, but not for me.”
Please let her aunt agree with her suggestion. Staying behind was clearly the only solution. She could avoid anyone who might know Father—and she could also avoid chancing another encounter with Lord Alexander. The man was far too handsome, not to mention virile, for Grace’s comfort.
Truth be told, the opportunity to run into Lord Alexander was a far greater deterrent than her Father’s discovery at the moment. She seemed to lose all control over her emotions, and also her body, in his presence. Not a good combination.
Not at all.
“Why, I’ll he
ar of no such thing, Gracie. Of course, you must accompany us. Sir Augustus would be offended if we did not bring you along. Your Uncle Laurence told me just this morning about how he ran into the baronet on a ride through town, and they discussed your visit. You simply must join us. It would be most unpardonably rude to stay home.”
Splendid. She bit the inside of her lower lip and frowned. There could be no point in further argument. Grace resigned herself to attending the event.
Would Lord Alexander be there?
~ * ~
Alex dressed before a cheval mirror and tied his own blasted cravat. It took him far less time to accomplish the task on his own for some reason than with the assistance of his valet. He would have to speak to Thomas about that, after the man recovered from the chill he had taken. Granted, Alex couldn’t attain the same level of perfection when tying the neck cloth himself, but that should be no excuse. He was liable to become an addle-pate during the time it took his valet to tie the deuced thing.
He’d flatly refused Gil’s offer of his valet’s services. Alex wanted to get this evening over with, and waiting around for servants to complete such simple tasks would only delay the inevitable. He had somehow convinced himself the end of the evening would arrive sooner if he and Gil got started with it sooner. Surely there was some logic in the thought—somewhere.
Once dressed, he made his way to the front salon of Roundstone Park.
Even with the services of a valet to tie his cravat, Gil had finished dressing before him. Alex definitely needed to have a firm word with Thomas. Good Lord—was he becoming a dandy? Impossible. Best to ignore such frightful thoughts. Dandies had no concern for speed and efficiency, but only with frippery and finery.
“Shall we be off, then?” Gil asked. He straightened himself out of the armchair where he was waiting and gingerly adjusted his evening coat.
“If you are certain you are up to an evening out, Gil.”
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