The Kensingtons were in Bath? Alex stopped in his tracks momentarily, but Lady Trent soon pulled him along again. If the Kensingtons were here, then Lady Grace would be as well.
He searched the crowded room to catch a glimpse of her before berating himself. He was supposed to be avoiding her, not seeking her out. Blast, it wasn’t any sort of an impossible goal. But how could he avoid thinking about the woman whose eyes had become his constant companion at night, who set his loins aflame with a simple glance?
Lady Trent then turned her attentions from Rotheby to him. “And you, Lord Alexander. Where have you and your family been hiding all this time? I declare, we have seen neither hide nor hair of any of the Hardwickes in an age. His Grace, your brother—he must be out of mourning now, isn’t he? You know my youngest daughter, Lady Cecelia, would be just perfect for him. I’m certain she could help him to forget all about his first duchess.”
The woman’s audacity spawned a glare in him, which he neglected to quell.
“Oh goodness me, there are the Marquess and Marchioness of Coulter. I must speak with them. Please do excuse me, gentlemen. Lady Trent swooped away from them as fast as she had come, and Alex could not be more pleased to see her go.
He eased over to Gil’s side to provide him assistance in walking without being too obvious. “Relax, Alex,” the older man said. “She’s moved on to her next targets. She’ll not bother us again, but will simply gossip about us.” He smiled weakly. “She’s still convinced she will marry me. Ever since Trent passed away five years ago, she’s been hounding me. All the woman cares about is money and status.” He let out a heaving sigh and shook his head. “I think there are much more important things in this lifetime to focus my attentions on. Now, what did she say about the Kensingtons? Have you spotted your young lady yet?” The twinkle was back in the earl’s eyes. “I think I’ll go and take some of the waters while you search for better company.” Gil straightened and detached himself.
“She is most certainly not my young lady,” Alex called after his friend. The exasperation in his tone rang out in the grand hall. How would he ever convince himself to stay away from her if no one in his blasted life would cooperate?
“Well, if she is not your young lady yet, perhaps you should do something about it. Time is wasting, my friend. And you never know how much you’ll have. If you do nothing, I’m quite sure another man will come along and snatch her out from under your nose. Perhaps a Mr. Maxwell?”
Rotheby walked away, leaving him alone in the center of the huge hall. He turned about, trying to spot anyone he recognized.
While he did find someone he knew, the particular someone he found was not anyone he wanted to converse with. Alex turned in the opposite direction, walking away from Lord Overstreet and hoping to find a diversion. The bastard had no sense of decorum, and Alex wanted nothing less than to be associated with the man.
In his haste to escape Overstreet’s company, he walked straight into another, far more acceptable, acquaintance. “My apologies, Sir Laurence! I didn’t see you there. I must admit, my distractions got the better of me.”
Sir Laurence glanced over Alex’s shoulder and gave him a consolatory look before glancing across at Overstreet.
“Lord Rotheby just left me to take the waters,” Alex continued. “I’m sure he would love to see you. We were unaware you had come to Bath.”
Sir Laurence placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder in a show of camaraderie and smiled. “Come, join us. We’ll keep you company, and Overstreet will have no reason to interrupt. He and I have never been on the best of terms, to put it mildly.” His conspiratorial tone made Alex like the man even more.
He led Alex to where his wife and niece were conversing quietly. “Look who I bumped into, my dears. Our neighbors have also come to Bath.”
A brief flash of panic swept across Lady Grace’s features, just as soon replaced by a bland expression she showed obvious difficulty in achieving. Apparently, she was no more in favor of their continued association than he.
“Ladies.” Alex bowed his head to them.
“Oh, Lord Alexander. How fine it is to see you here. I assume you’re not alone? Is Lord Rotheby with you?” Lady Kensington grasped his hand with clear euphoria before scanning the crowds for a glimpse of the earl. However much he may wish to avoid Lady Grace, he was unable to deny her aunt’s exuberant display of affection for him.
“Yes, ma’am, he should return shortly. I’m sure you can speak with him as long as you like. Lady Trent was kind enough to inform us she already encountered your family this morning.” He coughed beneath his breath.
“Oh, that beast of a woman! Such a dragon. Did she make a go at Lord Rotheby again? I would wager she did.” Lady Kensington’s face filled with color as she went into a rant about the countess. “She’s been after Lord Rotheby since the day her husband died, if not before. I declare—oh! Why, Lord Rotheby, so good of you to join us.”
“Lady Kensington, Lady Grace. Sir Laurence.” Gil greeted them each in turn. He shook the baronet’s hand. “How wonderful to see you all again, and quite surprising, I might add, to see you here in Bath. Are you here for some shopping?” He took a swig of the water in his hands. “I daresay there is little opportunity for that in Somerton, although we do have a few shops that will carry some decent goods on occasion. Lady Grace, you shall find much more variety and quality here. Myself, I came for the waters.” He held up the glass, as though to prove his point. “I must say, I’m not very fond of their taste, but they are reputed to have excellent healing qualities.”
Gil pulled a face as he took another sip from his glass. “I hope they shall help cure me of this interminable cough. After a few days of drinking from them, I suppose we shall see. If I live that long, that is. Tastes like it has been poisoned.”
Alex wondered how many days the man considered a few.
At that moment, Lady Kensington looked across the room. Alex caught a gleam in her eyes the moment she started to speak. He’d be damned if she wasn’t up to something again. The blasted woman schemed too much.
“Goodness gracious me, is that Captain and Mrs. Marshall across the way? I do believe it is. Laurence, Lord Rotheby, we simply must go and speak with them. It has been far too long. Hurry along, they are alone at the moment.”
She hauled the two men with her. Lady Grace glared at her aunt as the older woman led Sir Laurence and Rotheby away. Then Lady Kensington feigned a sudden remembrance that Alex and her niece had been with them. “Oh dear, we are leaving these two without a thought! How horrid of us.”
With a pleading look, she turned to Alex. “My lord, do be a dear and entertain our Gracie for us. We could take the two of you with us to speak with the Marshalls, but I do fear you would both become dreadfully bored in the company of so many older people.”
She patted the back of his hand as if he were a good puppy, and turned on her way, leaving her niece seething beneath the surface, presumably because the chit was once again alone in his company. “What a sweet boy he is. He’s quite good to us all, Lord Rotheby.” Her voice trailed off as they disappeared through the crowded Pump Room.
Lady Grace tried to stifle a groan as she turned to face Alex, but he heard it leak through. They eyed each other warily. How would they ever manage to avoid each other at this rate?
She faced him with a look full of consternation. “I suppose it is my turn to apologize. It seems despite what our wishes may be, my aunt has other plans in mind. I’m very sorry.”
What kind of response could Alex give to such a statement? Now he would to be stuck in a very public, very social setting, with a woman who wanted to be anywhere other than with him, for Lord only knew how long. He wanted to make the best of the situation, but honestly didn’t have the first inkling how to go about it.
His mind drifted back to a few days before, when she had painted the scene at the river. He wished he could see her like that again, with all the joy and freedom she had experienced. But she onl
y seemed to experience panic, fear, and discomfort while in his general vicinity—at least if she was aware of his presence.
“My lady, I truly believe you had nothing to do with that. There’s no need to apologize.” He glanced around the room for a few moments as he debated what else to say to her.
She remained silent—a trait he now expected in her but which rankled, nonetheless.
Her silence lasted just a touch too long. His aggravation finally got the better of him and he snapped, “Am I thoroughly disagreeable to you, ma’am? Am I so horrible you are unable to converse with me at all, or is something else wrong? I’ve apologized to you repeatedly for taking liberties in Lord Rotheby’s garden, and for everything else under the sun. I don’t know what else I can do to convince you to speak to me. You could at least make some effort at being civil. Lord knows I have made enough efforts for the both of us.”
Her eyes grew wide, and then slowly filled with heat. “You…you…how dare you! May I remind you, sir, you are the one who took those very liberties you speak of with me.” She stood with her hands haughtily on her hips and her icy eyes turned to deep, blue flames of anger. “I didn’t ask you to do so, I didn’t encourage you to do so, and I most certainly didn’t want you to do so. That was entirely your choice. You’ve made it abundantly clear you only suffer my presence as a favor to Lord Rotheby and my aunt and uncle. Yet you continue to stare lasciviously at me, leaving me thoroughly baffled as to what, precisely, you want from me.”
Her voice rose no more than a whisper as she built a head of steam. Now that she had started, Alex worried she might never stop her tirade. Yet this harangue of hers was intriguing. She suddenly had so very much to say.
He stood in the middle of the Pump Room with his mouth agape, unsure of how to proceed other than allow her to continue her verbal assault. So he did.
“I do not know how to act around you. I’ve tried to ignore you, as you seemed disinclined to my company, and I therefore assumed you would prefer that reaction. So how, pray tell, am I supposed to react? I’ve tried to stop you from making a gargantuan mistake, but you seem to have an aversion to accepting my assistance. I would very much like to help you by doing whatever it is you want, but I’m quite incapable of interpreting your thoughts. So, my lord, why don’t you tell me what to do and save us both a good deal of trouble? It would alleviate the ache that is rapidly building in my head.”
Lady Grace finally took a breath, and waited. By this point, most of the room openly stared at the two of them, some with their jaws hanging open, others seeming to note every word said so they could rush to the nearest gossip and fill them in on these newest, juicy on-dits. Her words, while hardly more than a whisper, seemed to echo in the spacious area.
Alex, too, heard every word she’d hissed at him. Yet he had listened to only a few. The passion she displayed entranced him. She was normally so cold and collected, never losing the veneer of control she kept such tight rein over.
Yet that had all gone by the wayside, and he could think of nothing but how beautiful she looked when angry. Her eyes had flashed and flared, and some strands of her hair had pulled free from the exacting knot and whipped about her face. He wanted to capture her passion, to hold onto it for a later moment when she resumed her cold demeanor.
Alex yearned to touch her.
Maddening. Most men would do anything to avoid infuriating a lady, but he was formulating ways he could do so again. He loved seeing her out of control, reckless and passionate. He wanted more. So much more.
Without a thought to the consequences of his actions or the audience that had gathered, he closed the distance between them and kissed her. Greedy this time, he took more than he gave. One hand fisted in the knot of hair at the nape of her neck and worked to free more of it than was already framing her face, while the other drew her closer to him so he could feel her length against him.
Their audience drew in a collective, scandalized breath, which appeared to register with Lady Grace. She struggled against him, but he would prefer to ignore them. However, she increased her struggles and pushed hard against his chest to separate them. Reluctantly, Alex relinquished his hold.
She took a calming breath, then another, and a third, all while glaring daggers of ice-blue fire into his eyes. Then she reached a hand up and slapped him across his cheek. “You forget yourself, sir,” she spat out. Then she turned on her heels and fled, with the Kensingtons close behind.
Alex started to follow her as well, but Gil appeared as if from nowhere and placed a hand on his arm. “Let her go, Alex. This will all be sorted out. Just let her go for now.”
So he did.
Chapter Twelve
Mortification was not nearly a strong enough word to describe Grace’s current state.
She couldn’t believe the way she’d behaved toward Lord Alexander in the Pump Room—losing control of her emotions. Such behavior was grotesquely inexcusable, compounded by the fact that a room full of people had listened to every word.
And then. Then! Oh, that dreadful man. How dare he kiss her again, and this time in public, before a gathered crowd? But what a kiss it was… Even still, how could she have allowed herself to enjoy the kiss, even if for just the briefest moment?
Word would spread throughout Bath about her behavior within the hour. How many peers had been present? Far too many for comfort. She’d be lucky, indeed, if word didn’t reach her father in days. Lord help her if that happened. Why, Father could be in Bath before the week was out. Who knew what her fate would be if that happened. She would have to leave before he found her. He would not make her marry Lord Barrow, and he would not take her baby from her.
Grace was frustrated with herself, with Lord Alexander, with her aunt and uncle…with the whole world. She marched to their hotel, paying no attention to anything around her.
Maybe she should simply pack up her belongings and leave. She didn’t know where she could go, but she didn’t want her aunt and uncle to have to face the shame of her behavior any more than they already had at this point. Not only that, but she couldn’t brook the thought of Father’s retribution toward them should he discover they’d been harboring her all this time.
They had opened their home to her, treated her like a daughter—and she had repaid them by behaving like an untamed shrew toward a gentleman in public, and then allowing the man to kiss her before the whole of Bath. And then for her encore, she’d slapped him.
Her behavior was beyond reprehensible. Truly, how could she excuse it other than to say she’d lost her temper? As though she were not already enough of a social outcast, she had now secured the position for eternity.
As she strode through the hotel doors, Uncle Laurence caught up with her. Had he followed her the entire way from the Pump Rooms? She couldn’t hide her embarrassment from him, however hard she tried—so she refused to even try.
He took her by the elbow without saying a word and led her toward their suite of rooms. Aunt Dorothea stopped at the front desk of the lobby before she followed behind them, and she closed the door once they were all safely inside. “Oh, my sweet dear, are you quite all right? Such an ordeal you and Lord Alexander went through, having a lover’s spat like that in public!”
Lover’s spat? What on earth was her aunt concocting now? Grace knew one thing—it wasn’t good, whatever it was.
“But don’t work yourself up over it, dear. I’m sure it will all be worked out in no time. He’s an honorable gentleman, Gracie. He will do right by you.” Aunt Dorothea tucked one of Grace’s stray hairs behind her ear and patted her on the cheek. “I’ve ordered us all a bit of luncheon. They’ll bring it in momentarily, and then we’ll have a nice, calming meal. Then Grace, you and I will go shopping. After all, that is why we are in Bath. We must be sure to get you some decent clothing. So never you mind about all of what just happened. Everything will be quite all right in no time. Won’t it, Laurence?”
“What love? Oh, yes. Everything will be fine. I’ll
make certain of it.”
Panic squeezed Grace’s chest, making it difficult to breathe. The set of her jaw soon caused her physical pain, so she made a conscious effort at unclenching it. What could they possibly mean? How could her uncle make certain everything would be fine?
Nothing could be fine.
Unless, of course, she left. Then their lives could go back to normal, and they could pretend they had never allowed such an ungrateful relative into their home to disgrace them.
“Aunt, Uncle, I…I think it would be best for you both if I were to leave you. I can go somewhere and seek employment. If Father hears of this…well, he will certainly not take the news kindly, I’m afraid, and I don’t know what he will do. Surely the scandal will die out faster if I were no longer with you, so—”
Aunt Dorothea huffed. “Scandal? Oh, pish. A touch of scandal never hurt anyone, lovey. Now I’ll hear no more of this nonsense of you leaving us. You will not leave us if I have to tie you to the bedpost. And don’t believe for a moment I wouldn’t do it.”
Grace believed her, all right. The panic in her chest, that anxious, fluttering tightness, threatened to swallow her whole. She had to leave them. If only they would understand. But then, they’d never seen Father in one of his rages. They couldn’t know.
“Now, why don’t we have a lovely luncheon and then get on with our shopping this afternoon, hmm? Oh! I haven’t told you yet, in all this excitement. We’ll be going to the Assembly Room tonight, Gracie. There is an evening of dancing and entertainment planned, and we’ve been invited to attend. Of course, I accepted. Did you happen to bring an appropriate gown? If not, never fear. We’ll see what Madam Yeats has ready-made to suit.”
A dance? An evening of entertainments? Grace shook her head. If word wasn’t already on the way to London after the morning’s episode, surely being seen at such an event would ensure calamity.
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