She gathered her skirts into her gloved hands as she hastily made her way around a marble column, then hurried down the stairs and toward the torchlit garden. If she tarried overlong, people would notice, a situation she could scarce afford when so much hung in the balance. Father and Mother were counting on her. She could not let them down even if it destroyed her heart to honor their wish.
The dew-covered grass dampened her silk slippers as she hastened down the garden path toward the old lime tree. The cool night air brushed against her skin, and hundreds of stars sparkled overhead. But the peaceful setting did nothing to calm her nerves or soothe her upset. Her heartbeat increased as she drew closer to her destination—closer to Lewis.
Grace slowed her rampant pace and fought for composure as she took the final steps, closing the distance between her and Lewis. She saw him cast in the glow of the torchlight as she left the path, his eyes sparkling and his black hair gleaming. The familiar fluttering she experienced every time she was near him returned to her belly but did nothing to erase the dread filling her soul.
A wide smile spread across his face. “My darling Grace, come, let me hold you.”
“Oh, Lewis.” Forgetting her duties for a moment, she cast herself into the warmth of his embrace. What she would give to stay safe in his arms for all eternity. Unable to control her emotions any longer, a shudder racked her shoulders as the first tears seeped from her eyes.
“What is it, darling?” Lewis stroked her hair with his comforting hand as he held her close.
How was she to tell him they could no longer be together? Every part of her wished to deny the fact. She longed to run away with him. To start a new life with the man she loved. She would give almost anything to stay with him, but she could not toss her family to the wolves.
“All will be well. There is no need for tears.” Lewis continued his attempt at comforting her. He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. “We are together now. I will keep you safe.”
She had given Lewis her heart months ago and found herself powerless to take it back. All the same, she had a duty to her parents, to the family title and the ton—at least, according to Mother and Father she did. Personally, Grace didn't give a fig about the title or the ton, but she could not make the same claim about her parents. She would sell her soul to protect her family.
A chill trickled through her, raising goosebumps on her flesh. Even if it killed her—and it well might—she would do right by her family. She had to. What other choice did she have? Without her, they would be destitute. Cast out into the London streets to fade into the chaos of the great city. Forgotten by all, and left to fend for themselves without the means or necessary skills to survive their harsh new reality. She simply could not sentence them to such an existence.
Grace drew in a slow breath. Resigned to her fate, she pulled away enough to look up into Lewis’s tender green eyes. His gaze would haunt her memory forevermore—the love and tenderness she witnessed in their depths would be with her always. A steady reminder of what she’d sacrificed.
“Grace, my darling.” He swept the tears from her cheeks. “My love, whatever it is, you can confide in me. Trust me, darling. I will see you through it.”
She drew on every ounce of courage and strength she possessed and stepped out of his reach. There was no choice in the matter. She had to tell him what happened. What was expected of her. She had to break his heart.
He stepped toward her, but before he could reach her, she turned her back to him. The words would never come as long his gaze was locked on hers. She could not watch his heart shatter. Grace opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, searching for the proper words; the words that would make this easier on both of them—but none existed.
Blast, this was impossible.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his hard chest before whispering in her ear, “Everything will be okay. Tell me what is wrong and let me help you.”
“You cannot help.” A fresh batch of tears blossomed and trailed down her checks. “I am to marry the Duke of Abernathy.”
Lewis stiffened behind her, his breath hitching. “You can’t. Not when you are in love with me.”
“God how I wish it were not so.” She turned in his embrace to look up at him and her soul shattered. “Father signed the betrothal papers yesterday. He plans to announce the engagement tonight.”
Panic gripped Lewis’s expression. “Run away with me. We can leave now. There is no need for you to wed a man you do not love.” He implored her with his gaze. “Grace. Do not destroy what we have. Hold onto our love, to me, with both hands.”
She nibbled at her lip and averted her gaze. Her chest heavy, her tears flowing freely, Grace squeezed her eyes shut. She did love him with all she possessed, but it did not change a thing. She had to honor her parents. Had to protect her family.
“Damn it, I love you,” Lewis said, his voice cracking with emotion.
She returned her gaze to his, her heart shattering beyond repair. She had to make him hate her. Make him believe they were ill-fated from the beginning. Perhaps then he could walk away. Move on with his life. Maybe even find another to love.
A lump formed in her throat at the very idea, but still, she wished him happiness. He deserved a lifetime of love. The last thing she wanted was for him to spend his days and nights mourning their relationship.
Squaring her shoulders, Grace glared at him. “Sometimes love is not enough. My life is in England. Yours is in America. We were doomed from the very beginning.”
“Grace.” He tightened his hold on her. “You cannot mean that. Come away with me.”
“I cannot.” She stepped out of his embrace and held one hand in front of her to stop him from recapturing her. “I must return to the ball and to my future.”
He took a tentative step toward her. “You are wrong. Your life is with me. Let me take care of you. Allow me to cherish you; to love and provide for you.”
Grace closed the distance between them, placing one gloved finger on his lips. “Do not make this harder on us. You have to let me go.” Every moment she spent here with him weakened her resolve more. If she did not end their time together soon, she may never return to her responsibilities, for heaven knew her heart belonged to Lewis. “There is no choice. I must honor the agreement my parents made. I…it is my wish to do so.”
She turned and strode toward the garden path.
Lewis caught up to her. Grabbing her elbow, he halted her. “Grace.”
She swallowed hard. “Please. Don’t.”
His gaze filled with hurt and without a word, he released her.
Grace made haste toward the shelter of her home. Toward the life her parents had planned for her. By month's end she would be the Duchess of Abernathy, but her heart would forever belong to Lewis.
CHAPTER 1
LONDON, 1845
A LOUD CRACKING sound filled the air at the exact moment that the carriage floor quivered beneath Grace Stratton’s slippered feet. The carriage jostled, swaying from side to side as she struggled to remain seated. She tightened her hold on her pet tiger and glanced at her companion, Eliza. What the devil was happening?
The carriage came to an abrupt halt, emphasized by Eliza’s shocked scream. The girl righted herself on the leather and velvet seat, then placed her hand on her chest. “Mercy! Are you alright, Your Grace?”
Grace had told the girl a dozen times that she need not refer to her in such a formal way, but every time Grace protested, Eliza countered, pointing out that a baron's daughter had no business addressing a duchess by her Christian name. It mattered not that they had become friends. Grace gave Eliza a shaky smile. “Fine, thank you.”
“And Jasmine?” Eliza looked at the orange and black striped cat nuzzling against Grace.
“She is well too. Only a bit shaken.” Grace stroked her hand down the cub's back. “What of yourself?”
Eliza pushed a loose tendril of fiery red hair out of her eye
s. “I’m unhurt.”
The carriage door swung open, causing Eliza to screech once more as Grace jumped a fraction at the sudden intrusion. Settling back, she nodded at her coachman. “Do not keep us in anticipation.”
The coachman folded his hands in front of his abdomen and gave a firm nod. “I’m afraid we hit a rather deep rut in the road and have broken an axle as a result.”
Grace handed Jasmine to Eliza. “Be a dear, will you?”
“Of course.” Eliza accepted the tiger with a smile and settled the cat on her lap.
“I’ll have a look at the damage.” The coachman helped Grace down, then led her around to the back of the conveyance.
Grace stood behind her carriage inspecting the broken axle. The noonday sun warmed her face and exposed shoulders, while a warm wind blew her skirts around her ankles. Delightful as the day was, the peaceful surroundings did nothing to calm her rising upset. The longer she examined the split and splintered wood, the faster her heart beat and her mind raced.
She massaged her temples for a moment before turning to her coachman. “What are we to do about it?” she asked, praying he’d have a good solution.
One that would not detain her overlong.
“Your Grace, I’m afraid we will have to send for the carriage-maker. An axle is not an easy thing to repair.”
She trailed her gaze along the large crack once more. The last thing she wished for was a delay to her travels, but she supposed it could not be avoided. She closed her eyes and sighed. Pray, let her make it to Scotland in time for little Evangeline’s christening. So long as that happened, all would be well.
Grace returned her attention to the coachman. “What do you suggest?”
“There is a coaching inn about half a mile down the road. Allow me to unhook the horses and escort you there to wait while we arrange for the repairs.”
Grace gave a nod. “How long do you suppose it will take to set my carriage to rights?”
“I’m sorry Your Grace, but I do not know. If there is a skilled carriage maker in the area, and he is not busy, you could be ready to travel again on the morrow. Otherwise… I’m sorry, there is no way to predict how long you will be delayed.”
She patted her chignon and smoothed her wrinkled skirts. She’d left London three days prior in order to travel to her nephew, The Duke of Goldstone’s, estate. He and his wife, her dear friend Amelia, were christening their baby daughter Evangeline in a sennight. Grace was to be the babe's godmother, and nothing would prevent her from reaching her destination—least of all a broken axle.
Grace squared her shoulders, ready to take command of the situation. “Very well. But leave the horses hitched for now. Instead, borrow two of the outrider's mounts for us and instruct them to stay with the carriage. For the time being, Eliza and Jasmine will remain as well.”
“As you wish.” The coachman gave a bow, then strolled around the back of the carriage toward the pair of outriders waiting there.
Grace turned her attention toward the road ahead of her and waved one of her other outriders closer. She gave him a warm smile as he approached.
“Your Grace.” The man dismounted and bowed.
“I would like for you to ride ahead to the inn. When you get there, make an inquiry to see if there is a local carriage maker or repairman. If so, fetch him at once. Tell him the Duchess of Abernathy sent you. That should help persuade him.”
“Straight away, Your Grace.” The outrider bowed once more before returning to his mount and galloping toward the inn.
Returning to the carriage door, Grace peeked inside. “Eliza.”
Eliza looked at Grace but continued to pet Jasmine. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“The carriage is in need of repairs. You are to remain here and care for Jasmine. I am leaving some outriders as well.”
Eliza nodded. “Where are you going?”
Grace leaned against the carriage door. “I’m riding ahead to the inn. As soon as arrangements are made, I will return.” Grace could not be certain that all would work in her favor, but regardless she would either come back herself or send someone for Eliza, Jasmine, and her trunk.
“Very well,” Eliza said.
Jasmine lifted her head and yawned, showing off her impressively large teeth before settling back against Eliza.
Grace turned from the carriage and sighed, glancing at the clear blue sky. At least it was a pleasant day for riding—not a cloud in sight, and a nice breeze to keep her comfortable. What a pity she could not change into her riding habit. There would be no dignified way for her to ride in full skirts. Nonetheless, she would make do.
The coachman led one of Grace's stallions around the carriage, bringing it to a stop beside her. “Allow me to help you mount, Your Grace.”
She bobbed her head, gathered her skirts high in one hand, then placed a slipper covered foot into his waiting hands as she grabbed the saddle—something she would not have had if they’d taken the carriage horses. Once she was seated, Grace did her best to situate her skirts over her legs, all the while wishing she’d worn boots.
The coachman glanced at her, his gaze remorseful. “I do apologize for not having a proper sidesaddle, Your Grace. Might you rather stay here while I go ahead and make the arrangements?”
“Nonsense, I am more than capable of riding astride. As for seeing to things, I would like to be present.” She took up the reins and notched her chin. “Let us hurry.”
“As you wish.” The coachman mounted a matching stallion, then with three of the duchess’s outriders flanking her, he took the lead, setting his horse into a trot.
Grace swallowed back a protest at the slow pace, wishing she could ride neck or nothing, galloping full speed ahead. Alas, she did not suppose a faster pace would do any good in the long run. She would still have to wait for her carriage to be repaired regardless of how quickly she reached the inn.
Resigned, Grace relaxed in the saddle and endeavored to enjoy the ride. Bird songs floated through the air and she glanced at the trees lining the road in hopes that she might catch sight of one. She was soon rewarded as a starling flitted from one tree to the next, its black feathers shining with purple and green as the sun's rays reflected off of it.
Grace smiled, thinking how marvelous it would be if she could fly as well. Her travel setback would certainly be over, for she could fly to Scotland, and no doubt arrive faster than she could by carriage. She pushed the thought from her mind.
Woolgathering would get her nowhere. What she needed were real solutions. She turned her attention back to the road ahead. If her carriage could not be repaired straightaway, she would rent one, and if that wasn’t a viable option…she’d book passage on a mail coach.
Nothing would keep her from reaching Scotland in time for her great niece’s christening. She was a duchess after all. People would trip over themselves to aid her. Grace released a relaxing breath. All would be well.
Before long, a two-story building with balconies running the full length of its stone exterior came into view. A large half circle drive lined with flowering bushes cut a path through the thick grass in front of the building, and liveried servants scurried to and fro.
Grace’s legs twitched with the desire to kick her mount into a gallop. They were nearly at the inn, and the anticipation was making her half mad. Fighting the desire to rush toward her destination, Grace pasted a pleasant smile on her face and continued to follow her coachman.
She squinted to read the sign hanging over the wide wooden door. The George Inn. It must be her lucky day, for she was familiar with the coaching inn. She had never stayed there, but she'd heard plenty of her peers gossip about the establishment. The George Inn was a respectable place frequented by the gentry. Surely she would find all of her needs met.
A stable boy ran toward the drive as Grace made her approach, then stopped to wait with his hands folded in front of him. She pulled rein, bringing her mount to a stop, and smiled down at the lad before casting her glance tow
ard her coachman.
The coachman dismounted, approached, then handed Grace down. She took a moment to right her skirts before speaking. “Thank you. I am going to have some tea while we wait for news. The instant you receive word, I wish to know about it.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The coachman gave a bow.
Grace fished a shilling out of her reticule and turned to the lad. “Do see that my horses are cared for. They need food and water straight away.”
The lad gave a wide grin as he scooped the coin from her palm. “I’ll see them brushed as well.”
“Very good.” Grace gave a nod, then turned to stroll toward the inn’s entrance. She used her hand to shade her eyes from the late afternoon sun as she took the steps one at a time. Given the late hour, she reluctantly decided she’d better reserve a room and send for Eliza. Even if there was someone available to fix her carriage, they’d not have it done before nightfall.
Releasing a sigh, Grace made her way into the building. So long as she was back on the road by morning, she could make up the lost time and arrive on schedule. For now she would see to the room and make arrangements to have Eliza and Jasmine fetched.
After booking a room, Grace went to the dining room for tea and a light meal. She’d send her men to collect the others as soon as she could. Guilt nibbled at her as she sipped from the china cup and munched on biscuits and cheese. Surly Eliza would like something warm to drink. She should have brought her along rather than leaving her with the carriage.
More than an hour had passed and Grace still waited for news. Not a single one of her men had shown themselves. Just when she thought she might be making herself mad with worry, she glanced around the dining room and was rewarded with the sight of her approaching coachman.
He came to stand beside her table. “Your Grace.”
She swallowed the piece of cheese she’d been chewing, then offered him a grin. His mouth was drawn in a firm line and he cast his gaze at the floor for a moment before returning it to her.
Grace braced herself for unpleasant news. “Am I correct in assuming that I will not fancy what you have to tell me?”
Romantically Enchanted: A Twisted Fairytale Collection Page 23
