by Lyn Stone
The thing that appealed to Grace most about Caine was that he appeared to care what happened to her. That made him the only one in the world who did and certainly dear to her because of it.
She loved his face, scars and all. He would never credit that, so she might as well not tell him. Grace was mightily afraid that, on all counts, she was hopelessly infatuated with the man.
Mrs. Oliver fussed over her constantly, yet treated her quite differently than she had before the incident on the road. Now she asked instead of telling. She deferred instead of demanding. Amazingly, the other servants followed her lead implicitly. Grace found herself completely in charge for the first time in her life and took full advantage.
“Mr. Harrell?” She looked up from the writing desk in the study as Hadley’s factor appeared in the doorway. She feared he had been neglecting his estate duties of late to concentrate on her protection. Thus far there had been no threats apparent. “Is there a problem, sir?”
“There are two riders approaching along the main road, ma’am. I thought you should know.” He pursed his lips and raised his bushy gray eyebrows as he awaited her response.
She tensed, heart in her throat. Surely it wasn’t her uncle or men he was sending to collect her. He would not dare such a thing. Would he? “I doubt anyone bent upon mischief would ride in at midmorning.”
Even as she said it, she could not erase from her mind the memory of the times, twice before, that she had been found by her uncle’s minions and returned to him.
Chapter Seven
Mr. Harrell rushed to reassure Grace, “Oh no, ma’am, the visitors are not anyone you should fear. One of the riders appears to be the captain, judging by the mount he’s on.”
Grace jumped up from the desk and flew past him on the way out of the room. “Notify Cook. We’ll need something special prepared to feed them,” she ordered over her shoulder. “I will receive in the drawing room.”
She hurried there to wait. After a few calming breaths, she pinched her cheeks for a bit of color and brushed back an errant strand of hair that had escaped the confines of her morning cap. Then, on second thought, removed the foolish cap and stuffed it under a cushion.
It was too late to change her gown, but there was little choice to be had in that direction anyway. Most of her new clothing, the morning gowns in particular, were still in pieces awaiting construction. The borrowed gray would have to suffice.
Grace had to laugh a little at herself. That she should want to look pleasing to the captain surprised her. He had chosen her when she was at her very worst and his expectations today would doubtless be quite low in any case.
She heard the commotion outside when he arrived and arranged herself on a divan to wait for him.
“Captain Morleigh and Lord Trent, ma’am,” Judd, the butler, announced in a somber tone.
Grace rose and smiled as the two men entered. “Welcome!” she said, and held out her hands to Caine. He looked so fine, even in his travel dust. Rather rakish, in fact.
He raised her fingers to his lips. “I trust you’ve recovered from your misfortune on the road?” He seemed to take in every detail of her appearance as he asked.
“I have indeed.” Grace withdrew her hand and offered it to Trent. He reacted less familiarly, merely bowing over it. “It was good of you both to come, but not at all necessary. Would you join me, or have you other business to conduct?”
Trent cleared his throat. “If you would excuse me, I will leave you two to speak privately.”
Grace nodded. “Please consider yourself at home here, Lord Trent. We shan’t be long.”
“Why thank you, ma’am. I shall do that,” Trent replied, and promptly left with Judd.
Caine smiled. “I see you’ve assumed command.” He gestured for her to sit, then joined her on the divan. “Does Wildenhurst agree with you then?”
She brightened. “Oh, yes! I knew I would love it here and I do. Everyone has been very agreeable and we’re getting on quite well. I can hardly wait to meet the neighboring families and perhaps entertain a bit. But I suppose that will have to wait awhile.”
“Oh. You would enjoy company? Parties and the like?”
“Yes, of course!” She gestured around the drawing room. “This is a perfect size for dancing, isn’t it? Please don’t judge my social abilities by my dislike of the ball where we met,” she said, laughing at his concern. “Even though I never had a London season, I attended all our local events and helped my parents host a few. All of that was curtailed by mourning, of course. Wardfelton’s evenings were rather dark events with few ladies in attendance. I’ve quite missed the dancing and gaity.”
“I see. Yes, I suppose you would,” he said, apparently still troubled by something.
She leaned toward him, hands clasped in her lap. “And how have you been? And Lord and Lady Hadley, how do they do?”
“Well enough, thank you,” he said, a frown still marring his strong features. “I’ve come to let you know Trent and I have discovered the identity of the brigand who accosted you. His name does us little good, however, since we have not yet been able to connect him with anyone of means who might have hired him to do the deed.” He sighed. “Do you think it was Wardfelton, Grace?”
She nodded. “He came immediately to mind.”
“To me, as well,” Caine admitted. “However, I am at a loss when figuring his motive. Any ideas?”
“None at all. When I first came to him, we got on rather well. After that first year, things changed abruptly. He acquired a sudden dislike of me, a hatred, really.”
Morleigh shifted to face her fully. “Do you know why?”
Grace shook her head and shrugged. “No. He never declared it outright, but I began to feel very strongly that he wished I would cease to exist.”
He placed a hand over the one she rested on the cushion beside her. “Was he very cruel to you, Grace?”
“Not to my person,” she admitted. “All his threats were implied.”
She noted a hardening of his expression as he spoke. “Well, you won’t have to endure that again, I assure you.”
Grace hesitated a moment before venturing a notion that had occurred to her well after the attack. “Perhaps my uncle is not the culprit. Is there anyone you know who might wish you to remain unmarried?”
“It is possible that my cousin, next in line for the title, might want to prevent it. He will be my heir if I don’t marry and produce an heir. However that seems rather far-fetched, the more I consider it. Doesn’t it seem more likely he would simply try to eliminate me?”
“Well, I wouldn’t dismiss him out of hand. The assassin did ask for Morleigh’s woman instead of using my name as my uncle might have done.”
She hated to mention the other possibility. This one, he would not like. “What of your friend Trent? I felt from the outset that he does not approve of me in the least.”
Instead of anger, he offered an indulgent smile. “You may strike Trent off your list of suspects, Grace. He has been my best friend since we were lads and has saved my life twice.”
She pursed her lips, but could not hold back the words. “Perhaps he believed he was saving it yet again. Or at least protecting your future.”
“No, Grace. It most definitely is not Trent. He would not need to have you killed to prevent our marriage. All he would need do is seriously object and give me valid reasons for it. The worst he has done is to tease me, which he has always done about everything under the sun. Please trust me on this.”
He patted her hand again. “Now, I want you to stop worrying. You will be perfectly s
afe here. I will go back to London, find whoever is responsible and take care of the matter.”
Grace turned her hand palm up to grip his. The move seemed to surprise him.
“I do trust you,” she said.
He looked taken aback, but finally spoke. “Thank you. I’ve given you precious little reason to do so as yet, but I appreciate that.”
“Nonsense! You have given me every reason,” she said, meaning every word.
Trent entered in something of a rush, stopping just inside the door. He looked from one to the other as he bit his bottom lip. Something had obviously upset or excited him.
Grace raised an eyebrow. “Is something amiss, Lord Trent?”
“Uh…no, not amiss exactly. I wonder if I might have a private word?”
“With me?” Grace asked, unable to resist testing his patience.
Trent shook his head and fastened a concerned gaze on Morleigh. Grace tugged her hand from Caine’s clasp and rose. “It is a bit early in the day, but there’s brandy in the cabinet there if you’d like a tot while you confide.” She gave Trent a saucy grin as she swept out and left the men to their business.
Her hand still tingled with the warmth and comfort of the captain’s touch. She cradled it beneath her breast, even as she warned herself not to read too much into his attentions.
She was of mixed feelings about his treatment of her today. While a part of her resented his superior “I shall handle everything for you” attitude, another part enjoyed his promise of security.
To be fair, the first impression he must have had of her was that of helpless female. She clearly saw now that she had let herself become a victim of her uncle’s intimidation. It was as if Caine had awakened her somehow when she had been at her lowest point. And the unfortunate incident on the road had shaken her fully out of her former grief and apathy. No, she could not blame him for viewing her as weak and inept, but she could change his opinion and gain his respect in time.
He would never regret choosing her, she decided with a firm nod of her head. Never. She would see to that.
*
“You won’t credit what Mrs. Oliver has told me!” Trent exclaimed as soon as they were alone. Obviously agitated, he began pacing the plush turkey carpet and rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “I still can’t credit it.”
Caine waited for him to relate whatever it was, his mind still on Grace’s calm assertion of trust.
“It was she!” Trent said, stopping to offer a gesture of disbelief. “Grace herself disarmed that man! Can you believe it? Mrs. Oliver hit him, yes, but it was Grace who saved them both.” He strode over and plopped down beside Caine. “She lifted her skirts, man. She enticed him on purpose. Then she kicked the stuffing out of his privates and brought him down!”
Caine stared wide-eyed at Trent. “What?”
Trent nodded, then shook his head. “Oliver finished him off with the pistol’s butt. According to her account, Grace then helped her load the bodies, clambered atop the coach, saw to the coachman’s wound, then drove them here herself!”
“Give over. The woman must be exaggerating.”
“Not so! She swears it’s all true.” He shook a finger at Caine. “You have sorely underestimated this girl, Morleigh.”
“I? You are the one who had her wilting in a faint.” Belated fear rose in his chest at the mental image of Grace physically confronting a full-grown man. “Go. Find her and send her to me.”
Trent threw up his hands as he stood. “Find her yourself, man. I’m still coming to terms with this.” He resumed pacing and scratched his head. “I cannot believe I have so misjudged anyone, especially a woman. It’s not like me at all.”
Caine huffed. “This is not about you, Trent.” He strode out to locate Grace, intent on giving her a real dressing-down for risking her life that way.
He ran into her in the vestibule, literally. She backed away laughing and rubbed her nose. It had collided with his chest.
“What were you thinking to do such a thing?” he demanded.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you in time to stop.”
“Not that, wigeon! The brigand. Oliver told Trent it was you!”
“Oh, that. Well, Mrs. Oliver actually did him in. I told you that.”
Caine rolled his eyes. “Yes, but it was you who lifted your skirts. Do you have any idea what might have happened if—”
“Well, he was reloading and meant to kill us, so I redirected his thoughts to something less fatal.”
Morleigh grasped her upper arms and shook her once. “Did you consider what might have happened if you hadn’t had enough strength to—”
“Unman him?” She laughed nervously. “But I did.”
“What if you had missed your mark, Grace? What if he had—”
She shook off his hands and raised her chin. “You’re more worried about his defiling my person than shooting me dead as he did Madame?”
“Well, no, of course not, but—”
“Then stop treating me like an idiot! It was our only chance and I took it! If he had thrown me to the ground to have his way, I trust Mrs. Oliver still would have had sense enough to take advantage of his lust and bash in his head.”
She exhaled a gust of anger while a moment of silence ensued. But apparently she wasn’t finished asserting herself. “Do my actions offend your male sensibilities?”
He stood back, took a deep breath and inclined his head. “Somewhat, but I will rethink it. I beg your—”
“Indulgence? Forgiveness? And if you say attention, I shall hurt you!”
He smiled, all anger erased. “Come now, Grace, what you did merely shocked me, that’s all. I’m relieved you were so quick-minded. And happy you weren’t hurt or worse. In fact, I’m rather proud—”
“Very well then. So long as we have an understanding. You are wrongheaded, as most of your gender usually is, and I am—”
“Absolutely rude for completing almost every thought I put into words.”
She looked to be hiding a smile herself. “If I promise to cease my rudeness, what shall you concede?” she demanded, arms crossed and foot tapping with pretended impatience.
“To hear you out before going on the attack,” he promised.
“So be it.”
She sparred really well, Caine thought, proud of her spirit.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I’m famished. I was coming to tell you the meal is ready.”
“Thank God,” Trent piped up. He had been listening, propped in the doorway. “I thought we were about to be put on the road back to town.”
He strode forward and tucked one of Grace’s hands through the crook of his arm. “Never contradict this woman, Morleigh. She scares me to death and I’m staying firmly on her good side.”
“One wise man on the premises,” Grace said with a wry laugh. “Come along, Captain,” she said over her shoulder. “Food usually improves a man’s temper.”
“A woman’s, as well, one would hope,” he replied, taking her other hand. They walked three abreast to the dining room for the noon repast.
Caine was still too shocked to say much, but his mind whirled with varying emotions. He alternately felt a great need to spank or salute her. One thing he was certain of, life with Grace would never be boring. However, he was not certain if that was a good thing or bad at this point.
“You could remain here for a while,” Trent suggested to Caine after they had finished eating. “There’s nothing you could do in London that I can’t do for you. Would you leave a lady alone after such a scare?”
“I’m not frightened in the least, but I would welcome your com
pany,” Grace said with a smile. “Please stay if you like.”
Caine knew he had no right to stay at Wildenhurst, that he should return to London forthwith and dedicate himself to discovering their enemy. However, Trent could continue the investigation and Caine supposed he really should remain for at least a few days. “Very well, if you’re sure.”
Trent was right that Grace should not be left alone. Heaven knew she had fended for herself for too long as it was.
They bade Trent farewell and stood together out front, watching him canter down the long drive. “I know I promised you solitude for three weeks. Are you certain you won’t mind my intrusion?” he asked her.
She shook her head and answered firmly, “It is your home, after all, and this would give us the chance to become better acquainted.”
Caine made his decision. “Then I shall stay, of course.” He knew he might regret the hasty choice if he thought about it for too long. But regret was not something he entertained often and he made up his mind he would not in this instance. Grace wanted him to remain, so he would.
*
They met at breakfast the next morning. Caine had no idea what to do with her now that he was to keep her company. As if she read his thoughts, she asked, “What shall we do today?”
He looked out the window at the rolling meadows beyond the lawn. “We could ride if you like. You do ride?”
Her little bounce of excitement answered before she did. “Oh, yes! And I’ve missed it so much,” she said, eyes bright with anticipation. “I dared not do it without your leave. I thought it might not be safe.”
“I’m glad you didn’t go out without me.” Caine admired her sense of caution and prudence, noting that this was the first he had seen of those qualities. “However, we should be fine if we stay on open ground and well away from the wood. There is no access to the back acres, except through the river.”
She pulled away and lifted her skirts to take the steps. “I’ll run up and change!”
“You’re fine as you are. We’ll not see a soul who would question your attire.”