“I don’t think that idea is wise.”
“Tabitha has been gone for nearly a year. Everyone expects you to reenter Society and choose a bride.”
Groaning, he dropped himself down in a chair. “Is that the reason you called upon me? You want me to remarry?” He shuddered on the last word.
“You make it sound so distasteful. All I want is your happiness. Over Christmas you—”
“Stop. I don’t want to talk about the holidays. Ever.”
“Why not? I still don’t understand why you left so abruptly. Brianna had a particularly difficult time trying to determine where she failed as hostess. She has even mentioned redecorating your assigned bedchamber for next year.”
“Don’t have her do that. My stay was comfortable and the activities exceptional.” Braiden felt horrible for distressing Grace’s sister. He’d never considered how everyone would take his departure.
“Then what was it?” Abigail looked directly at him with the expectant face he remembered as a youth. Back then he found it difficult to deny his little sister, and time did nothing to change the compulsion.
“If I agree to make an appearance at the occasional social gathering, will you drop this?”
“I suppose I can live with that . . . for now.”
The following evening Braiden regretted his acquiescence to his sister’s demands. In the stuffy, crowded ballroom, he couldn’t blend in the background or pretend no one else was there. Already he’d had four ladies approach him, fishing for him to request a dance. He wasn’t interested.
Although the idea of disappearing into the card room crossed his mind more than once, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to search for Grace. If she was here, he needed to see her doing well.
“Braiden,” Abigail said with relief in her voice as she took his arm. “I’m so glad you could make it. Have you begun procuring dances? Remember, the most eligible ladies’ cards always fill up fast.”
“I don’t intend to dance. My promise extended to my presence here, nothing more.”
She let out an angry breath. “Now I know how Brianna feels. Her sister is no better.”
“Lady Grace?” His heart increased at the thought. “No better how? Is she ill?”
“Of course not. I daresay the girl’s parents wouldn’t have brought her here otherwise. I mean in regard to dancing.”
Letting out a long breath, Braiden relaxed. At least he wouldn’t have to see her in the arms of another man. Instinctively, his eyes sought her. He caught no sight of her.
“If the lady doesn’t want to dance, why make her?”
“She can’t locate a suitable gentleman otherwise. I spoke with Brianna, and Grace wants to marry. I suspect she’s becoming depressed by her inability to find someone and is now hurting her chances further.”
“Where is she?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“That is part of the problem. She’s hidden herself with the other spinsters. How would she even receive an offer of a dance in that crowd?”
Looking through the women, he still couldn’t spot her. If he couldn’t while actively searching for her, no other man could. The idea she purposely put herself in that position angered him. She deserved to be married. She deserved a child. She deserved happiness.
“Please excuse me.”
Leaving his sister, Braiden headed straight for the side of the ballroom populated mostly by females. Although it might kill him, he would take Grace out and show her off. When the evening drew to a close, he wanted every man in the room to be panting for her. He owed her that.
When he caught sight of her, his breath caught. Still as lovely as ever, but a sadness lurked on her face that previously hadn’t been there. Casting aside the knowledge of who caused it, he marched directly up to her.
Without a word, he offered his arm. At first she looked taken aback, but she slid her hand through his arm and allowed him to lead her toward the dance floor. However, thanks to his horrid timing, the set had just ended.
Hesitating, he could have burst with joy to hear a waltz begin. Taking her into his arms, he nearly groaned. He’d missed this. He’d missed her. Nothing had ever felt so right as spinning her around the room in his embrace.
Forcing himself to concentrate on his mission proved difficult, but he managed to coax a smile out of her as he purposely led her in view of suitable gentlemen. Gripping her tighter, he pulled her closer to him.
“You smell so good,” he whispered, blowing his breath across her neck.
She shivered, making him tighten his grip. The desire to steal her away from the room overwhelmed him. What was he doing? He should have left her alone. After all, no man here deserved her.
Their bodies moved in sync to a painful degree. He never wanted the song to end. Judging by the look on her face, she sensed the rightness as well. How could he give this up? How could he give her up?
When the song drew to a close, he reluctantly pulled back and escorted her off the dance floor. His feet took them in the direction of the library, but he forced himself to change course. Nothing good would come of it. Once in front of her mother, and in plain view of any man desiring a dance, he bowed and left.
Passing everyone by, he continued on until he was outside. He knew Grace didn’t understand. He’d seen it in her face, but he also knew he couldn’t handle being around her any longer. Dancing with her had already been too much.
Fate was cruel and so was his sister. For the remainder of the Season, he would avoid Grace, or he would return to Donetic to be with his mother. His throat closed as sorrow choked him. The truth was, he didn’t want to leave. Already has mind invented an excuse to go see her again.
What was he going to do with himself?
Grace stared at the window, ignoring the voices around her. This Season proved to be more distasteful than the last. She’d even taken to avoiding as many people as she could at the balls and other events. The idea of marrying any of those ridiculous fops or foolish pretenders made her physically ill.
“You seem out of sorts today,” Rebecca Doutree remarked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No. It’s the dreary weather.” Grace latched on to the idea of the rain as she watched its dissent from the sky. “I had hoped for a walk in the park today.”
“Then perhaps we can go tomorrow. I would be happy to join you.”
“That would be wonderful.”
Grace tried to act as though the prospect lifted her spirits. In actuality, Braiden had been the cause of her melancholy attitude today. Last night when he sought her out for a waltz, she felt as though her world had righted. She had hoped that afterwards they would have an opportunity to walk through the garden or escape to the library, but his plans apparently had been different.
Why did he dance with her if he intended to disappear at the close of the waltz? She knew their relationship could never be what it had been at Stonemede, but surely they could at least share some type of friendship. Couldn’t they?
Glancing around the room, Grace couldn’t wait for this At Home to end. Her mother and Lady Burford conversed quietly on one side, while she and Rebecca sat on the other. Normally the privacy to talk to her friend held some appeal, but nowadays everything seemed to come at a cost.
“I can bite my tongue no longer,” Rebecca said suddenly. “The weather has nothing to do with your current state. I’d venture to guess sadness would reside on your face while the sun shone upon you.”
“The rain makes it worse,” Grace defended, not sure if she was grateful or irritated with her friend’s perception.
“I recall my first and second Season with clarity. The first filled with hope of a match, and the second filled with desperation for one. You have every right to be discontented.”
“It isn’t
fair that being a woman forces us to sit aside and wait for a man, whom we hold a mutual desire for, to come to us. I hate the Season.”
Rebecca smiled at her vehemence. “I did too, at one time. Now I have passed that point. The married ladies still enjoy the time for the activities and the company. I have changed my thinking to such and took up a hobby of sorts.”
“And it works? Are you able to forget about those horrid men who only want to break your heart?” Grace heard her own bitterness, but she could do nothing about it. She wanted to forget Braiden.
“If you find the right thing to occupy you, then yes.”
“What are you doing?”
Rebecca’s smile froze as fear crossed her eyes. What was her friend doing to elicit such a reaction? Whatever it was, Grace wanted to do it too. If dangerous or on the verge of scandalous, the activity would certainly occupy her mind.
“Nothing big. I mean, it works for me, but . . .”
“With all the sordid thoughts going through my mind, it would be better for you to just tell me.”
“I’ve been writing. The words flowing from my fingers help to relax me.”
“Is that all?” Grace lowered her voice. “And here I thought you were running a brothel.”
“Grace! Don’t ever say such a thing.”
Both girls laughed, then after questioning glances from their mothers, worked to contain their giggles. Grace felt better than she had in months. With her mood marginally lighter, her body relaxed. Perhaps there was something to selecting a new hobby. She loved to garden, but the time one could spend in the dirt was limited with the events scheduled for each day.
Sensing movement, she turned toward the door. Her breath caught. Braiden and Abigail had entered with the butler. As they were announced and greeted, Grace could hardly move. Why was he here? Especially now that she had decided to forget him.
Unfortunately, Braiden sat directly across from her. His dark green eyes captured her, making her shift in her chair. What did he want?
Desperate to ignore him, she turned her attention back on Rebecca. “Before our walk through Hyde Park tomorrow, would you like to visit some shops?”
Her friend’s eyes lit with excitement. “I’d love to. Madam Purdy should have new fabrics in, and I would love to see them.”
“We shall have such fun.”
From the odd expression on Rebecca’s face as well as her glance at Braiden, Grace realized she put too much enthusiasm in her voice. Although she hated to give her emotions away, she enjoyed the look of displeasure on Braiden’s face. Surely he noticed how happy she was.
The conversation passed nicely among the women, with Braiden not contributing much, but Grace noticed his every word, movement, and breath. Her body felt hypersensitive to him. As if some sort of invisible connection held them together.
Suddenly Abigail stood and approached Grace, fanning her face. “Lady Grace, I am feeling faint, would you mind joining me for some fresh air?”
“Certainly.” Grace stood up. “The garden is quite lovely.”
Abigail winked at her, then turned to look over her shoulder. “Braiden, would you mind coming along? I may need to borrow your strength.”
He rose so swiftly he earned everyone’s curious eyes while hurrying to his sister’s side. “I’ll get the carriage.”
“Nonsense. I merely need some air.” She speared Grace with a glance.
“Please come this way.” Grace led them out the side doors to the extensive garden, her father’s pride and joy. An awkward silence followed them. She knew Abigail came up with this excuse in order to put her and Braiden together, but Grace held no confidence that this ploy would work.
“So Grace,” Abigail began. “How are you enjoying this Season? So many suitable gentlemen have decided to seek out brides this year. I hope you have found a number of them to your liking.”
“I haven’t had a chance to judge them all, so I’m reserving my opinion until then.” Grace hoped her comment would make Braiden wonder if someone had struck her fancy.
“My cousin, Thomas, has been lamenting the loss of your presence.” Abigail leaned forward as if this were confidential. “I say you had quite an effect on him.”
Braiden snorted, earning a look from both women.
“You disagree?” Abigail demanded.
“No, but surely there are better suited men out there.”
“Braiden!” His sister swatted at him. “How can you speak of him like that? Grace, you ignore him. Thomas is a perfect choice for you. And as my brother doesn’t intend to marry, Thomas’s children shall be heir to a dukedom.”
Grace sucked in her breath as if the idea had never occurred to her. “That is true. What an honor for my . . . er, his children.”
Watching Braiden’s jaw lock into place as his eyes narrowed brought Grace such pleasure. As long as a sliver of hope remained, she would push him. She loved him too much to give him up.
What had Brianna told her? Persistence. She wouldn’t allow Braiden to forget her. Perhaps her new hobby should be flirting. Surely he could not withstand an onslaught of attention from her.
Braiden glanced around Hyde Park, all the while cursing himself. He had become a stalker. Eavesdropping on her conversation with Miss Doutree had been enough, but this far exceeded that small indiscretion.
Where was she? Did they intend to spend the entire day shopping? He grew restless as he sat by himself, waiting for someone who may never arrive. Or may not appreciate his presence.
His fists balled as he thought of her comment yesterday. She didn’t hesitate to mention bearing Thomas’s children. Was it Thomas himself or the idea of her children inheriting the dukedom? He ground his teeth. If she intended to produce heirs for his title, he’d make damn sure the children were his.
Swallowing, he couldn’t block out the image of Grace holding their child. Her desire for a baby could send her into the arms of some random man. He closed his eyes against the tightening in his chest.
When he opened them again, he saw her. His breath caught as the wind whipped at her skirts and blew the loose tendrils of her hair. Her pink gown matched her cheeks, and her happy smile lit her eyes. God, she was beautiful.
As his attention turned to her companion, the joy at seeing her dissipated. A man escorted her and Miss Doutree, and by the looks of it, both women were thrilled by his presence.
Red-hot jealousy burned him as he took off in their direction. Was this the new man she sought for marriage? What happened to her wanting her child to become Duke? She needed him for that, or, he grudgingly admitted, Thomas.
“Lady Grace, Miss Doutree, how wonderful to run into you like this,” he said when he reached them.
“A pleasant coincidence, Your Grace.” Miss Doutree curtsied. “Please allow me to present my cousin, Mr. Ryland. Cousin, this is the Duke of Donetic.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Braiden said as he sized up the other man.
Ryland fell a good six inches shorter than Grace and judging by his puny arms and slight build, he could offer nothing in the way of protection. No. He would never do for her.
“An honor, Your Grace.” Even the man’s voice bothered Braiden. “Perhaps you could join us and even out our party.”
Braiden nodded his assent, and took Grace’s arm before Ryland could indicate which woman he intended Braiden to escort. Shock registered on the man’s face, but it quickly dissolved when he turned to his cousin. With a wave, Braiden indicated that the other couple lead the way.
“I didn’t know you intended to visit Hyde Park today,” Grace observed as they began their stroll.
“The fresh air calms me, and so I make a plan to enjoy it often.”
She nodded, but disbelief lurked in her eyes. Did she know he changed his plans when he heard of he
rs? Should he care that she knew?
“You picked a fine day. It’s also fortunate for you to meet Mr. Ryland. This is his first trip to London. He resides in Bath most of the year, where he aids his sick mother.”
Clenching his teeth, Braiden tried to ignore the worship he heard in her voice. He wanted to defend himself. To point out that he, too, took care of his ailing mother. But he bit his tongue. Mentioning that woman wouldn’t serve him. From what he could tell, she was going mad, and although harmless, he could never tell what mood he would find her in.
“It’s kind of you to show him around then,” he forced out.
“I suppose, although it’s not a chore. He is very pleasant and enjoyable to be around.”
“You say that like he’s the only man in London you can stand.”
A sly grin touched her face as she surveyed him from the corner of her eye. “He may be. Thomas hasn’t been around much, and you . . . I haven’t completely decided what I think of you.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. Keeping his eyes focused on his competition, Braiden vowed to win his place back. She’d once desired his company. He wouldn’t let her choose this untitled nobody over him.
“Then I would suggest you spend more time with me until you have enough information to give you a satisfactory answer.”
“I’m not sure that is wise or necessary. After all, we spent the holidays together at Stonemede.”
“Then I could invite you and your family to Donetic for the Season,” he offered without thinking.
Her mouth dropped open, and she stopped walking. “Why? Why would you want to do that? Rumors would spread.”
Winning the Duke Page 10