Something flashed in Trenwick’s eyes and a light of victory appeared, though Aubrey had not given him any sort of favorable answer. “We can come up with a feasible explanation, Ingram. No one will need to know what the true purpose is here.”
Aubrey shook his head, the trapped feeling increasing and causing panic to swell. “My lord, surely there are others…”
A paper was slid across the desk, as though this was anticipated. “You are the best choice. But my solicitor has given me a few other names, should we fail with you.”
With all the reluctance in the world, Aubrey reached for the paper and read over the list.
Then he swallowed and folded the paper, meeting Trenwick’s eyes. “When would you like me to start, sir?”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me this?”
Charlotte gave Elinor a disparaging look. “Because we knew you would react like this. Sit down, you’re making me nervous with all your flailing and pacing.”
Elinor looked at Charlotte, then turned to the rest in bewilderment. “How are you all so calm about this?”
“Because we’ve had a week to process and adjust to the idea,” Izzy reminded her in her eternally calming voice.
It didn’t calm Elinor. She jabbed a finger in Edith’s direction. “Edith only just found out. She hasn’t had time to process and adjust either!”
“And yet, she is not raging as you are,” Charlotte mused mockingly.
Elinor’s brow furrowed, and she whirled to face Edith. “Why are you not as upset as I am?”
Edith took a careful sip of her tea before answering. “Because I am more concerned about Grace than the fact that she is currently being subjected to an indignity by her father. I know something of that myself,” she added in an undertone.
The room of Spinsters stared at her in stunned silence.
Grace couldn’t believe her ears. Edith had shared very little with them about her past or her situation, let alone her family. Her father had treated her poorly, as well?
Edith looked at Grace with sympathy and understanding, smiling slightly. “No matter what happens, lass, we will be here for you.”
Unbidden, tears sprang to Grace’s eyes. “Thank you.”
“Oh, don’t make us cry!” Prue begged, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.
“Seconded,” Georgie offered from the sofa. “I despise crying. It makes me look a mess.”
They all laughed at that, even Elinor, and she moved back to her seat, plucking a biscuit from the tea tray before she did so. “Well, I say shame on your father.”
A weak smile flickered on Grace’s face. “My one comfort is that he has not found a suitable candidate yet.”
“Thank God for that,” Izzy murmured.
Charlotte scowled. “I still think Georgie had it right. Lord Ingram would have done quite well and could have been turned to our side.”
“That wasn’t why I asked him,” Georgie insisted.
Grace’s cheeks flamed as her friends continued to banter over the idea of Lord Ingram as her designated faultfinder. She had never been more grateful than when Aubrey had refused to do as Georgie bid. It was one thing to have someone examine her for faults. It was quite another to have him do it.
He, whom she had followed around like a puppy in childhood. He, who had taught her the proper way to climb trees. He, who had been her very first dance partner when her brothers refused.
He, who had captured her childish heart.
Oh, the thought of him being the one to do her father’s bidding was beyond anything. It was worse than the idea of her being examined at all.
Not that she knew him now. She hadn’t had a real conversation with him in perhaps ten years, and she knew full well there had been nothing praiseworthy in that conversation on either side. He had always been closer with her sister, as they were of an age, and Anne and Grace had never particularly gotten on. Lord only knew how Aubrey had tolerated Grace following him around as she had done. But he had never said anything on the subject, for which she was grateful now.
It made no difference, she supposed. Aubrey had refused Georgie, so there was nothing to be done about it. Aubrey would continue to be polite in public, and Grace would do likewise. He might call on occasion, as their families were friends, and that would be the extent of it.
Perfectly polite, and no fault-finding.
“Well, we shall see,” Georgie finally said, smirking suspiciously.
Grace frowned at her friend, wishing she had followed the conversation. Were they still talking about Aubrey? Had they moved on to another topic? Were they going back to talk of the Chronicles again? They’d already settled who would write which article, and there couldn’t be more to discuss.
She glanced at the clock, then exhaled, rising. “I fear I must return home, my dears. Mama will want a full report, and we have a very small window of opportunity, what with Father lurking about.”
Charlotte grinned without hesitation. “He doesn’t know you’re a Spinster?”
Grace smiled back. “He doesn’t even know about the Spinsters. Bennett has been taking care to provide him with alternate newssheets on the days the Chronicles come out. He hasn’t noticed yet, and he never goes out in Society, so he won’t hear of it easily.”
“But he will eventually,” Prue reminded her, her eyes wide with meaning. “They always find out our secrets.”
“I know,” Grace admitted. “But until he does, I will enjoy every moment of his ignorance.”
She nodded to them all, then swept out of the drawing room and down to her carriage. Then, she was off towards home, praying her father would continue to be shut up in his study as he had been doing since his return. Any time he was at home, he was in his study. If he was out, he was with his solicitors or investigating certain business investments.
The family never particularly missed having him about.
Well, James did tend to complain about it, but he imagined himself his father’s apprentice, and the neglect was wearing on him.
However, it was perfect for Grace. Especially when she wished to have her regular tea and conversation with her mother. One where there were no limits on the topics of discussion, and they could laugh at whatever volume they pleased.
Not that they had accomplished that as yet, but she could hope.
The house was surprisingly quiet as she entered. Even Bennett was somewhat subdued as he took her things, and he left before she could ask where her mother was.
Odd. Bennett had taken to being particularly kind to her since her father’s arrival, sometimes straying into familiarity, which her father would have despised.
She shrugged and moved towards the parlor, hoping her mother would already be waiting for her there. They needed to discuss these teas of theirs and see if there was another location within the house where they might be able to meet as before without disturbing her father.
A door opened as she passed by, and a few footsteps were heard. “Grace?”
Blast.
She turned to face her father with the almost smile she saved for him alone. “Father.”
“I am pleased you’ve returned,” he told her, clasping his hands behind his back.
“I wasn’t aware that my return came with an announcement of it,” she replied, turning her smile cheeky to avoid being scolded.
He missed the humor and the impertinence. “I had Bennett inform me of your arrival.”
Grace lost her false humor and any politeness. “I didn’t realize that you’d been waiting for me, sir, or I would have been more expeditious in my return.”
Her father shook his head slowly. “No, no, my dear girl, I have no desire to interfere with your social agenda. It is good for a young woman, or one not so young, to engage with other women.”
Well, she could have done without that specific addition.
Wait… he’d never called her his dear girl in her life.
“With whom were you visiting today?” he asked, still smiling ve
ry politely. “Someone of influence and importance, I hope.”
Grace nodded in familiar obedience. “Yes, Father. I was at the home of Charlotte Wright again.”
He nodded in satisfaction. “Ah, yes. I am so pleased you are associating with her, Grace. It is most satisfactory to your reputation.”
Yes, her reputation. Clearly the most important part of her.
“She is one of my dearest friends, Father,” she admitted with a real honesty she did not usually employ with her father.
He bowed slightly to lean closer. “Even better.”
Charlotte would most certainly not be pleased to hear how approved of she was by her father. Grace might keep that secret for some time.
“You were waiting for me,” Grace reminded her father. “Do you need something?”
Her father straightened and nodded repeatedly. “Ah, yes, yes, thank you for bringing me back to topic. You will recall, I hope, the discussion we had not long ago about a plan I was implementing to assist us in your search for a husband.”
Grace swallowed, her hands turning cold. “I do recall, yes.”
“My solicitor has been very dedicated in his research to find someone suitable for the position. After all, we must have someone respectable, knowledgeable, and discreet.” He smiled in what was undoubtedly supposed to be an encouraging manner. “We don’t want word of this getting out and about in Society, now do we?”
Was she supposed to answer that question? Of course, she didn’t want word of this getting out! She didn’t even want to do this! If word got out that she was being examined, it would ruin her reputation and actually devastate her chances of marrying at all.
Ever.
“Unfortunately,” her father sighed, “I was unable to agree with any of those candidates. Poor Mr. Hayes was so disappointed.”
Hope burst into flame within her, and she clamped her hands together to prevent herself from showing her delight. “So… we will not be going forward, then?”
Her father smiled a satisfied smile that doused her hope in one swift stroke. “No, my dear, we are moving forward. You see, I have found someone far more perfect for the task than any of the options Hayes brought me.”
Grace’s stomach clenched and dropped at the same time. “You have.”
A nod. “I have.” He turned slightly, exposing the door of his study.
She held her breath. Waited. Hoped. Dreaded.
A man exited the study, his hands behind his back, a hesitant, almost apologetic smile on his handsome face.
Aubrey Flint, Lord Ingram.
If only it were ladylike to spit.
Chapter Seven
If one has a particular position on a certain topic, one must stand by it, and express it with all of the fervency and passion that one feels. Within polite constraints, of course. We must not turn wild for the sake of our positions, after all.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 11 November 1817
“What are you doing? Just what exactly do you think you are doing?”
“Saving you?”
“Wrong!”
“Is it?” Aubrey queried. “Is it really?”
“Don’t make light of this!” Grace snapped. “I have never been more humiliated in my entire life!”
“That this is happening, or that it is me?”
“Both!” she shrieked.
Aubrey shushed her, looking out of the drawing room towards the study. “Don’t make this worse than it already is!” he whispered fiercely.
She matched his tone. “I don’t see what can be worse than having a man who said it would be against his gentlemanly nature to find fault in a young woman to then change his mind and take up the idiotic venture.” She glanced out the door, then back at him. “It smacks of hypocrisy!”
A sudden snarl lit his features. “Do you think I actually want to do this? That I want to spend my time in London evaluating you to make your father feel better?”
“Well, I don’t know, considering you accepted the position and are here now for that express purpose!”
Aubrey moved closer, almost threatening in his approach. “Would you prefer some aged stickler for propriety who thinks you smell too seductive for polite society? Because I’ve seen the list of other candidates, Grace, and I can promise you…”
“Compared to you,” Grace interrupted, hissing coldly, “yes, I think I would! And what does my smell have to do with anything?”
“Not a thing, it was just an example! And I promise you that anyone else would take great pleasure in finding your no doubt numerous faults.”
Grace quirked a brow. “But you won’t?”
Aubrey’s expression shifted so quickly it startled her. Now he was cold, calculating, and almost haughty.
“Is that what you think of me?” he asked in an even lower voice.
She refused to feel guilty for what she’d said, not when he had committed the far greater sin. “I don’t know you from Adam, Ingram. I knew you as a child, and there is nothing here to suggest that boy lives anywhere inside you.”
He blinked, then seemed taken aback by what she said. Heartbeats passed, then a bland smile slid into place on his features.
“All right, I deserved that.” He sobered quickly. “But I promise you that nothing about finding faults in you, or in anyone else, will give me pleasure.”
Grace shook her head in disbelief. “Then why in the world would you do this?”
“Because if you saw the names on the list, you would choose me, too.”
She scoffed and folded her arms. “I highly doubt that.”
He matched her pose. “You would.”
Grace stared at him, grinding her teeth. “Is it going to be like this the entire time?”
“Probably.”
She tilted her head in consideration. “Perhaps you should go back to my father and refuse.”
Aubrey uncrossed his arms and slid them into his trouser pockets, a surprisingly casual stance given his position and his being a guest in her home.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled, “it’s been a long time since I’ve argued with someone, and I find I’m quite enjoying it.”
Somehow, in some way, some small part of her found that amusing, and her mouth twitched against a smile.
Aubrey noticed, and actually smiled.
Maddening, arrogant, infuriating, handsome man…
She couldn’t help it; she laughed. Tears of mirth welled up, and she had to turn away to wipe at her eyes.
It was so ridiculous. She had just spent the last few minutes arguing with Aubrey, Lord Ingram, over going along with her father’s scheme, all because she was embarrassed that it would be him. In reality, he was likely right. Someone else would have been worse. Aubrey wasn’t cruel, unless he had changed in the years that had passed, and it was inevitable that someone would be assessing her.
It might as well be him.
She turned back to face him and caught the incredibly attractive crooked smile he was sending in her direction.
Oh lord, not this again…
Grace smiled and gestured faintly for the couches. “Shall we sit?”
He shrugged and did so without waiting for her to sit.
For some reason, that amused her as well.
“So,” she said as she returned to the couches and sat. She was unable to keep from perfect posture, but she did her best to keep her expression relaxed, at least. “When does my father want you to begin assessing me?”
“He’s leaving that decision entirely up to me.” Aubrey exhaled shortly, shaking his head. He rolled his eyes and gave Grace an exasperated look. “You wouldn’t believe how determined he is.”
Grace hummed in disgruntled amusement. “Believe me, I know exactly how determined he is.”
Something in her tone must have said too much. Aubrey suddenly looked at her with more concern and more gentleness than he’d done in her entire life. “How can I do this in a way that will be as painless as possible for you?”
“I am.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression earnest. “I don’t want to hurt you, Grace. Believe it or not, that isn’t in my nature.”
“Oh, I believe that,” she told him, smiling fondly. “You always were quite nice.”
Aubrey wrinkled his nose up at that. “That’s a dreadful word. Nice.”
Grace laughed once. “My friend Izzy would agree with you there.”
“Mrs. Morton? I’ve heard excellent things about her.”
“All true, I can assure you.” Grace stared at Aubrey for a long moment, then clasped her hands before her. “How can you make this relatively painless for me? Be kind about it. Tell me what you find before you tell my father. Be my…” She bit her lip, unable to finish.
Aubrey knew, though. “Be your friend?” he suggested.
Still biting her lip, Grace nodded, looking away.
A warm hand covered her own, and her eyes moved back to Aubrey of their own accord. He was smiling again, this time surprisingly genuine. “I believe I can manage that.”
Her heart began a strange fluttering dance, and she had to catch her breath at the sensation before covering any visible evidence of such a thing with a sardonic look. “You think you can. You have no idea what being my friend entails, or what it will do to you. Poor Ingram.”
He snorted and slid his hand back, easing further into the couch. “First of all, if we are friends, you are entitled to call me Aubrey. Secondly, it cannot be that much of a trial, or your poor Spinsters wouldn’t come anywhere near you.”
“Shh!” Grace glanced towards the door, then back at him. “My father has no idea about the Spinsters, and I’d much prefer to keep it that way.”
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