A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle

by Catherine Gayle

  “Will you marry me, Grace?” Surely now she would give in. What else could he do?

  “I’ve told you already that I will not. Nothing has changed.” The fire fell out of her eyes, and what small amount of color had filled her face now fled.

  “Well. May I escort you to your aunt and uncle in the salon?” Alex pulled his hand through his hair again and came away with some in his fist. She would be the death of him. There could be no doubt.

  “That would be acceptable, Lord Alexander.” Her voice was thin. Grace stepped away from the windows into the library, shaking violently. Before she reached him, she collapsed into a dead faint.

  ~ * ~

  Alex carried the unconscious Grace into the salon, instigating a flurry of activity. Bodies flew about the room.

  “Goodness, what have you done to her?”

  “Lay her down here on the sofa, Alex. Everyone stand back.”

  “Is she quite all right? Peter, send for a doctor.”

  He laid his prone charge across the sofa as directed and stepped away from her, allowing the women to see to her. He never removed his eyes from his love.

  Char rushed about, ordering servants to bring water, blankets, cloths, and so many other items he couldn’t remember them all. Mama sat on the edge of the sofa, smoothing the hair away from Grace’s face. Sophie, ever calm, procured some tea and a bite for Grace to eat once she recovered from her faint. Neil, Derek, and Sir Jonas wisely stood out of the way, and Peter oversaw all of the activity. Sir Laurence and Lady Kensington were curiously absent, as was Chatham, leaving Alex’s family and friends to care for her.

  Grace let out a soft moan, and her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open.

  “Alex, did she hit her head when she fell?” his mother asked. “She winced when I touched her just there.”

  “I—I don’t know. She may have. I didn’t get to her in time to catch her, Mama.” He ought to have caught her. He should never have allowed her to fall, especially in her condition. The baby! “Peter, we should send for a doctor.”

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” Sophie said, her voice quiet but firm.

  “But she—”

  “But nothing. Grace doesn’t need a doctor, Alex. Please trust me on this.” Sophie lifted Grace’s head and settled herself beneath it. She crooned softly, imploring her to open her eyes and drink from a cup of tea.

  “Why do you ladies seem so determined not to allow me to call for a doctor? First her aunt, and now you, Sophie.”

  Mama interrupted his tirade. “This has happened before? She fainted before? Sophia, this isn’t normal. We must send for the doctor.”

  “No, Mama, we can’t. She wouldn’t want a doctor.” Sophie’s voice held an edge of steel.

  “How can you possibly know what she would want or not want?” Alex bellowed. “You’ve only known her a few hours. I’m sending for a doctor.” He pivoted on his heel and marched toward the door before he saw the huddle of males. “Better yet, Neil, go fetch a doctor. And take Derek and Sir Jonas with you. Hurry.”

  “Stop, Alex. This is entirely normal since she is with child.” His sister hissed the words out as Grace’s eyes opened and squinted against the light, and another soft moan slipped past her lips. “I’m sorry, Grace, I had to tell.”

  “With child,” Mama said, her words only a whisper. Grace looked up at her in confusion. “You carry my grandchild? Oh, how delightful! But we must plan the wedding immediately. There can be no delay. I can well understand your father’s hurry now, but I do wish Alex had informed me before now. Oh dear.” She sniffled and wiped a tear from her eye. “I’ll be a Grandmama again. You are such a dear girl. I’m so glad you will be my daughter.”

  Grace sat up and blinked as she looked around, her eyes settling on Sophie with a combination of hurt and a plea for help. “No. No, there’s been a misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding? You aren’t with child?” His mother looked from Grace to Alex and back again.

  “No, ma’am. Yes. Well, I am with child, but the child is not your son’s. And I won’t be marrying him. I’ll not be your daughter, ma’am.” She looked up to him with wide, sad eyes, silently pleading with him to explain. But how could he explain something he didn’t understand himself?

  “You’ve refused him again? Oh dear. But, your father…” Mama’s words trailed off, and she looked up at him with an apology in her eyes.

  “My father? What about my father?” Grace’s voice cracked just a bit, the only indication of her fear of the man amongst the haughty air she feigned.

  “Why, he left with the Kensingtons to procure a special license. He expects the nuptials to take place tomorrow. Surely he expected you to accept Alex this time, or he wouldn’t have gone to such trouble. Would he?” Mama looked dubious. “He couldn’t have mistaken your intentions so badly as that.”

  “I made myself abundantly clear to him, ma’am. I informed him that I would refuse if Lord Alexander asked me to marry him. The only way it will happen is if Father commands me to marry him, since he is still my guardian and I have no choice in the matter.”

  Aha! She would marry him yet. Grace would be his.

  “I’d like to speak with Grace alone,” he said to his family. “Please leave us.”

  They filed out of the room, leaving him alone with his love. Sophie was the last to go, and she whispered, “I’m sorry,” to Grace on her way out the door.

  “Your father will order you to marry me, Grace.”

  “Yes.” She stared at the floor.

  “Then why do you refuse? You could make it your choice, and not his. Why allow him to win?”

  “Either way, you lose.”

  “What?” He couldn’t temper the violence in his voice. “How could I possibly lose, when I’ll be married to you?

  “You deserve better than me, my lord. You are too good for me by half. You ought not to feel honor bound to protect me, when there is nothing remaining to protect. I have no virtue. I have no dignity. I have nothing to give you.” Tears slid down her cheeks, one by one, dropping to darken the soft lawn fabric of her pale pink gown.

  “But I want you. Is that not enough?” He ached for her. Ached for the shame she carried. Ached to wipe the tears from her eyes and the stain from her heart. Ached to undo the damage done to her by her father and Barrow, and anyone else who had ever hurt her.

  Her mouth formed the word “No” but only a squeak came from her lips.

  “Why? Tell me why. Allow me to understand.”

  “Because it isn’t your child, my lord.”

  “I know this. We’ve already discussed this.”

  She looked pained at his interruption.

  “I apologize. I won’t stop you again. Go on.”

  She turned her gaze to her lap. “I haven’t been honest with you since I met you. I—I was ravished by Lord Barrow.”

  He filled with rage toward the man and wanted little more than to hunt him down where the Regent held him and rip him limb from limb. But what he did want more than that was Grace.

  “I am not a suitable bride for a man such as you. You must realize that.”

  “And you must realize by now I’ve no intention of leaving you to yourself.” Alex paced again, taking long strides. “Why do you allow your pride to keep you from a marriage which could erase any hint of scandal, of impropriety?”

  “Pride? You think my pride is the issue here?” Anger flashed blue flames in her eyes and she stood to face him. “I have no pride left. It’s been replaced by shame.” She stood toe-to-toe with him, glaring up into his eyes. “I can’t marry you because you deserve a wife who has a virtue to match your honor. And I will not marry you because you spoke only of caring for me, of providing for me, of making me happy. You spoke nothing of love.”

  She pushed him back a step and advanced to fill the gap. “I will not spend my life married to a man because of duty and honor, who doesn’t love me as much as I love him.”

  “You love me
?” Alex’s jaw dropped.

  The fire fled her eyes as realization of her admission struck her. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You as good as did. You love me.” The words were a whisper as he leaned his head in toward hers.

  Alex kissed her with all the love and longing that had been building in him since the first moment he saw her eyes through the door of a coach. His lips pressed against hers before he traced the line of her lips with his tongue. She pushed against him at first. But when his tongue slid inside her mouth and tangled with hers, she melted against him and sighed into his mouth.

  His hands were everywhere—in her hair, on her arms, against her derrière. He pulled her tight to him, his erection was hard and taut against the slight swell of her belly. He needed her, more of her, all of her.

  She tasted of honey, all sweetness and warmth. He drank her in like liquor.

  She whimpered against his mouth and wrapped her arms about his shoulders and neck, pulling her body ever closer. The heat between them roared to life.

  And then Peter cleared his throat at the door. “Pardon me. I do hate to interrupt, Alex, but I believe Grace’s father has returned.”

  He extracted himself from their embrace. She teetered and he placed an arm around her waist to secure her.

  Her cheeks flushed and her lips were swollen, and she looked utterly divine. An urge to pull her from the room and above stairs to his bedchamber grew in his stomach, but he pushed it aside as once again the salon filled with people.

  Chatham grinned, the first time Alex had ever seen the man smile. “I’ve secured a special license for you. You may marry immediately.” He took one look at his daughter and his visage changed entirely. “And you will marry him, Grace.”

  Excellent.

  She tugged against his grasp. He tightened his hold on her waist and pulled her closer.

  “Very good, sir. We’ll marry in the morning.”

  Grace glared up at him, pulled herself free, and marched from the salon.

  And he still hadn’t talked to her about Priscilla and Harry. For that matter, he still hadn’t decided what he was going to do about them.

  There was not much time left. He had to decide. Now.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Aunt Dorothea’s face was alight with joy. “Oh how wonderful. I do love weddings. Gracie, you look breathtaking in that white silk, I’m so glad we chose it for today. Lord Alexander will be stunned speechless when he sees you.” She fussed about Grace, fiddling with ribbons and flowers and generally getting in Tess’s way as the girl tried to secure Grace’s hair in an elaborate knot.

  She didn’t bother to feign excitement. In an hour’s time, she would marry Lord Alexander, a man who didn’t love her. A man who was only marrying her for honor’s sake.

  A man she loved desperately.

  She should be happy. She would love her husband, she could keep her child, and she would live near her aunt and uncle. She would have a family for the first time since she was a very young girl. A lot of family, for that matter, and a very interesting and entertaining family to boot.

  Yet she was miserable.

  It might be different if he loved her—if he wanted to marry her and was not forced to do so in order to save her honor.

  But she couldn’t change the situation. She would walk down the aisle and marry the man she loved more than anything in the world, and then spend the rest of her life with the knowledge that she was entirely and utterly unlovable.

  Grace felt numb.

  She allowed Tess and Aunt Dorothea to finish their ministrations. After they completed the task and deemed her beautiful beyond compare, and of course the loveliest bride the ton had ever seen, she boarded the waiting carriage. She sat next to Aunt Dorothea, across from her father and Uncle Laurence as they traveled to the church.

  No true guests would be present. Only his family and hers, with the additions of Lord Rotheby, Sir Jonas, and the Earl of Sinclaire would witness the ceremony.

  Her father took her hand to help her down from the carriage, then escorted her into the church. She tried not to shrink from his touch, but found it difficult. He couldn’t fool her into thinking he was an entirely changed man overnight, simply from one confrontation with the Dowager Duchess of Somerton, even if the woman was the most imposing and convincing woman Grace had ever laid eyes upon.

  Lord Alexander waited for her at the front, next to the vicar. She couldn’t look at him. Instead, she stared at the walkway beneath her feet, unable to look anyone in the eyes. Father passed her hand to Lord Alexander, and the vicar started the ceremony. It all passed by her in a fog.

  Lord Alexander said, “I do,” and pressed her hand gently.

  When prompted, she also said “I do.” She had no choice. Father had commanded her to accept, so she did.

  The vicar said a few more words, none of which registered in her mind. They signed the register. Lord Alexander turned her about to face their families and led her along the aisle and from the church to yet another waiting carriage. An open carriage—one that would proclaim to all of London that she was now Lady Alexander Hardwicke.

  He assisted her inside and climbed up after her. The driver signaled the horses to leave, and they began the journey to Hardwicke House for a celebratory meal.

  “Are you happy, Grace?”

  She stared out at the passing city. “Happy, my lord?”

  “Alex. Call me Alex. I want to hear my name on your lips.”

  She hesitated before whispering, “Alex.”

  He took her hand and held it in his. “I like that. I like how you say my name.” A few moments passed and the tension inside her built. “I want to hear it from you more often. But you haven’t answered me. I daresay that’s becoming a habit. Are you happy?”

  “I don’t know.” Grace couldn’t remember the last time she had felt happy. What would it feel like? Would she even recognize it when it arrived? Somehow, she doubted it.

  He stroked the back of her hand, her fingers. “I’ll make you happy. Give me the opportunity. That’s all I ask.”

  She closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. The air smelled of recent rain and wildflowers, and the warm, woodsy, masculine scent belonging to her husband.

  “I’ll try. I can promise you no more than that I will try.” Was she even capable of happiness?

  He pulled her hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss on it as the carriage arrived at Hardwicke House. She shuddered at his gentle touch.

  ~ * ~

  Alex wished the celebration would come to an end. He loved his family and friends, but he had other things on his mind. He wanted to show Grace how much he loved her. He couldn’t live with himself if she continued to doubt him, to doubt his affection for her. His love.

  They would stay in a suite at Hardwicke House for the night and journey to Somerton in the morning. He didn’t want to overwhelm her on the day of their wedding by beginning with travel and spending the night at an inn along the way. He wanted to make this one night special for her—perfect even.

  But the celebration continued. He sat by her side through a round of toasts, from Peter, Derek, Gil, and Sir Laurence. The whole time she wore a fake smile, one that seemed painted on her face. A small orchestra was assembled in the ballroom, and Mama declared dancing would begin immediately.

  “Would you care to dance with me, Grace?” he asked as he led her to the ballroom.

  With her pasted smile, she nodded and took his hand. The orchestra played a waltz. He swept her into his arms, and they glided across the floor to the music.

  The world spun around them, but he saw nothing other than his wife. “I thought this day might never come, Grace.”

  “I hoped it wouldn’t, my lord.” She looked away.

  A single tear slid down her cheek, and he reached up to smooth it away. It was only her pain. She loved him. He had to remember that she loved him. “Alex. I asked you to call me by my name.”

  She only nodded in
reply.

  Why couldn’t she accept his love? Was he destined to a lifetime of marriage to a woman who couldn’t allow him to love her? A piece of his heart broke at the prospect, and he pulled her closer in his arms, wanting to surround her with his warmth as a symbol of his love.

  Alex vowed to himself that tonight he would love Grace so well that she could no longer deny it. He would do whatever it required.

  But Grace would know he loved her.

  ~ * ~

  The wedding celebration finally came to an end, much to Grace’s relief. She could think of little she wanted to celebrate less than her marriage. But the deed was done, and now Grace would have to learn her new position as a wife.

  She didn’t imagine life as the wife of a gentleman would be much different than life as her father’s daughter had been. She would merely answer to a different master. Life would go on as it always had in the past.

  After she said her goodbyes to her aunt, uncle, and Lord Rotheby, who would travel to Somerton together in a few days, her husband took her hand.

  “Come with me, Grace.”

  So she went. The dutiful wife must obey, after all. She had no right to argue or complain.

  He led her through the halls and up the stairs to a separate wing of the house. “Mama had a suite prepared for us, so we could have some privacy.” He opened a large, oak door and ushered her inside.

  A huge canopied bed stood against one wall, with matching tables and chairs scattered about the room. Silks draped the bed and windows in rich gold and brown.

  Alex closed the door behind them. “You have a dressing room through here. I had a footman bring your trunks up earlier, so you should have everything you need.” He still held one of her hands in his firm grasp. “A second sleeping chamber is on the other side of your dressing room.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest. Would she be allowed some reprieve then? And did she even want it?