Grace smiled in return, wishing a bit ruefully that she might have been equally as certain about the outcome of Jack’s courtship as her aunt. Only think of all the anxiety I could have spared myself these past few weeks, she mused. But as the great Bard so aptly said, “All’s well that ends well.” So any travail she may have suffered was well worth the temporary distress.
As for Aunt Jane’s assertion that she was the happiest woman in England, Grace knew her aunt was mistaken. No one could possibly be happier than I am, she thought, having spent every minute since Jack’s proposal yesterday feeling as though she were floating at least a foot off the ground.
When she’d awakened in her own bed this morning, she’d wondered for a few long moments if she’d imagined the whole thing.
Was it only a dream?
Then she’d caught sight of the sparkling square-cut diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand and knew the engagement was as real as the exquisite gemstone itself.
Catching sight of the ring now, her lips curved into a secret little smile. Apparently not secret enough, though, Jack angling his head to meet her gaze with a knowing look of his own.
“The instant I read Lord Jack’s note telling me he planned to ask for your hand in marriage, I couldn’t stay put a moment longer. I had to come home as quickly as may be to share in your good news,” her aunt continued. “Edna is ecstatic and waved me on my way, despite my having to cut short our visit. She says she cannot wait to hear all the exciting details, and mayhap have the opportunity to make Lord Jack’s acquaintance one of these times.”
“I shall look forward to the occasion,” he said. “But please, Mrs Grant, you must call me Jack now that we are to be relations.”
Her smile grew even wider, if that were possible. “Oh, you are such a dear—is he not a dear, Grace?”
Grace met his gaze again. “Indeed he is.”
“Jack it is, then, if you insist,” the older woman giggled. “And you are not to stand on ceremony a moment longer; you must call me Aunt Jane. Or simply Jane, if you prefer. I will accept nothing less.”
Jack smiled. “As you wish, Aunt Jane.”
She let out a merry laugh and drank a sip of tea.
“Now, about wedding preparations,” Aunt Jane went on. “We must consider your trousseau.”
Grace paused, realizing she hadn’t even thought of such a thing, having been far too wrapped up in Jack and the newness of their intimate relationship to consider practicalities. There was another far more pressing matter awaiting her as well—the necessity of informing her father that she was to be wed.
“Yes,” Grace agreed. “But first Jack and I must go to London and see Papa, and meet Jack’s family as well. We have decided it would be best to ask both their blessings in person rather than attempting to share the news by letter. Seeing that time is of the essence, we thought it wise to depart in the morning.”
Her aunt nodded. “Well, of course, you are right. Certainly you must go without delay. I would accompany you, but as much as I love your father, you know how he and I get when we’re living in the same house—worse than a pair of wet cats in a bag. And I positively refuse to stay in a hotel. Pray send my love to him and write as often as you are able.”
Grace rose and gave her aunt an exuberant hug, knowing she would miss the older woman. “On that you may rest assured, dearest Aunt Jane. I shall write every day and leave nothing untold.”
The journey to London took less than a day, the two of them departing early the next morning as planned. Seated beside Jack in his coach, Grace looked happy, pretty and increasingly nervous the closer they got to the city. She chattered on about a variety of topics for the first forty miles, then fell nearly silent for the rest.
Although he managed to conceal his own reaction with a veneer of relaxed anticipation, Jack couldn’t help but experience a measure of anxiety over his upcoming “introduction” to Ezra Danvers. Each time he thought about what was to come, his stomach muscles drew tight. Oh, he was sure he could pull off the required act and play the part of prospective bridegroom meeting his father-in-law for the first time, but he felt every inch the fraud.
Damnation, I am such a bounder, he thought.
The slip knot in his gut turned greasy with guilt. To assuage the feeling, he sent Grace a warm smile, then reached out to tuck a stray wisp of her hair back in place. “Have I told you how lovely you look today?”
Her eyes shone a deep blue. “You have, but you may tell me again. Although I can’t say I agree, not with the new pair of freckles I discovered on my nose this morning. But you have told me I am not allowed to argue with you on the subject of my appearance, so I shall not.”
“Very wise. And I like your new freckles. They’re absolutely adorable, just like you.” Leaning forward, he took her lips in a sweet kiss that lingered far longer, and became far more intense, than he intended.
With a reluctant sigh, he forced himself away, wishing he could pull her onto his lap instead. If they weren’t in his coach on the way to see her father, he would have done exactly that. But now was not the time to start something amorous, since they were due to arrive in the city in a short while.
Leaning back into the corner, he crossed his arms. “I sent a note to my mother and Edward at Braebourne asking if they could travel to Town for a few days,” he said. “I didn’t mention why, just said I had some happy news I wanted to share in person.”
“I did the same last night with Papa. He knows I’m coming home, but not the particulars.”
Danvers was smart; Jack was sure the crafty old man knew precisely why. However, if Grace hadn’t mentioned him in her letter to her father, perhaps the suspense was killing Danvers even now and he was wondering if Jack had been successful in his courtship. Jack just hoped Danvers didn’t turn too conspicuously smug at his victory once he learned for sure that Jack was the reason for her return home.
Grace deserved better. At the very least, she ought to be spared the knowledge that she was being used as her father’s unsuspecting pawn. And his own as well. I will do my damnedest to make sure she never learns the truth, he pledged, for both our sakes.
Not long after, the city rose around them, streets teeming with noise and life as people went about their daily business. Before long, they arrived in St. Martin’s Lane, Jack jumping down to assist Grace from the coach.
“Ready?” he asked, offering his arm.
She glanced first at the town house, then at him, smiling as she met his gaze. “Never more.”
The front door was opened by a servant, and in they walked.
The house feels different, Grace mused, as she took off her gloves and hat and exchanged greetings with the butler. Or maybe I’m the one who’s different? Not surprising, she supposed, considering how much her life had changed in the few short weeks since she’d been away.
Casting another sideways glance at Jack, she wondered at his unusually solemn mien. But then there was no more time for further speculation, as he took her arm and quietly suggested she lead the way to her father.
At this time of day, she knew she would find Papa in his study, likely bent over his ledgers and reports. She stopped just outside the closed door and turned to Jack. “Perhaps I should go in first.”
One mahogany brow arched upward. “You aren’t expecting him to object, are you?”
“No,” she said, though she honestly didn’t know what to expect, given Papa’s sometimes irascible humour. He might be delighted. Then again, he might not.
“Good. Then we’ll go in together,” he stated in a determined, almost protective tone. “You’re mine now, with or without your father’s blessing.”
Her pulse fluttered, a warm glow spreading through her that made her want to bury herself in his arms. Instead, she drew a breath, then rapped her knuckles in a quick one-two on the door.
“Come,” called her father in his usual gruff rumble.
“Papa, it’s me. I’m home,” she announced, as
she walked inside.
Ezra Danvers looked up from where he sat at his heavy oak desk, piled high with ledgers and correspondence. His grey brows furrowed over the rims of his wire-framed reading glasses. “Gracie? Is that ye, girl?” Tossing aside his quill pen, he sprang to his feet and hurried around. Catching her close, he gave her an exuberant hug and a kiss on both cheeks. “If you’d told me what time to expect you, I’d have been waiting at the front door.”
She laughed and hugged him in return. Stepping back, she found herself next to Jack, who cupped a steadying hand around her elbow. As he did, her father shifted his gaze toward him. “And who might this be, Gracie? I didn’t know we had company.”
The two men exchanged looks, their expressions curiously enigmatic in a way she couldn’t quite define. Perhaps they were taking each other’s measure, as men were sometimes wont to do. Likely Jack was considering his first impression of his future father-in-law, while her father was speculating about the identity of this stranger she’d invited into his home. But Jack wouldn’t be a stranger for long. Soon he would be family.
“Papa, allow me to introduce Lord John Byron to you. Jack and I met in Bath and have spent the past few weeks becoming acquainted. We are…that is…we are here today with happy news we wish to share.”
Her father glowered. “What sort of happy news? Just who are you, sir, to have so obviously ingratiated yourself with my daughter?”
“Papa!”
He ignored her, his gazed fixed on Jack. “Well, what have you to say for yourself, young man?”
Jack’s mouth curled with sardonic amusement. “Good day, I suppose, for a start. That and to express my wish that you relieve Grace’s mind by granting your consent for our nuptials. You see, your daughter has recently done me the honour of agreeing to be my wife, and I am most determined to have her.”
“Are you now?” Her father crossed his arms over his chest. “And what makes you think I would entrust my only child to your care?”
Jack sent him a piercing look. “Because I’m amply equipped to provide for her comfort and safety. But even more, I’ll do my utmost to make her happy. What else can you require?”
Her father stared for a long moment before turning again to her. “And what have you to say about this? You’ve told me plenty of times in the past that you weren’t interested in trading your independence for a fancy title. Has the word lord before his name given you a new set of ideals?”
She flushed. “No, not at all. His title matters not—well, not to me—although given your opinions, I should think you’d be pleased to know that a duke’s son wishes to take me to wife.”
“A duke’s son, eh? But not a duke’s heir, is he?”
“No, and thank heavens. I have no desire to live such an elevated existence. Being a lord’s wife will be difficult enough.”
“Nothing could ever be too far above you.” Something intense gleamed in his gaze. “Is he truly what you want?”
Her chest squeezed, her eyes lifting to meet Jack’s vivid azure gaze. “Yes. With all my heart,” she declared, reaching out for his hand. “I love him, and nothing would make me happier than to spend my life at his side.” She looked again at her father. “And although I would much prefer receiving your blessing, I will have him regardless of your approval. So what say you, Papa? Will you wish us well or not?”
He stared for another long moment before his glower vanished, a hearty smile taking its place. “Of course, I’ll wish you well! Come, come, give me a hug, both of you. That’s what children and parents are meant to do.”
Laughing, Grace hurried into his arms for another long, strong embrace. He and Jack ended up shaking hands, which was a good enough beginning, she supposed.
The three of them talked for several minutes, Grace recounting the highlights of her trip to Bath—or at least the ones that didn’t make reference to any of her and Jack’s intimate interludes. She also passed along well-wishes and news from Aunt Jane.
After a while, her father stood and gently ushered her to the door. “Now, why don’t you go on upstairs to your room? You must be fatigued from your journey.”
“Not terribly, though I could do with a repast. Why don’t I ring for tea for all of us?”
“Tea would be wonderful. Later. First, however, I should like a private word with Byron here.”
She frowned. “A private word about what?”
Her father laughed. “Always the inquiring mouse, aren’t you? We’re just going to discuss the basics of your settlement, that’s all. Not to worry, I’ll have him back to you in a trice.”
“Yes, but—”
“Surely you don’t wish to listen in on such tedious matters?”
Actually, settlement negotiations did sound boring in the extreme. Nevertheless, for reasons she couldn’t quite fathom, she didn’t feel entirely comfortable leaving the two men alone. Knowing she was being ridiculous, though, she shrugged the sensation away. Considering her and Jack’s upcoming marriage, she was sure the two men would have many private discussions, maybe even ones of a father-son nature. She certainly hoped as much.
“Very well, Papa. An hour then? Will that do?”
“An hour sounds perfect.”
She cast a last look toward Jack, who gave her a reassuring smile, then she turned and left the room.
“Was all of that really necessary?” Jack demanded as soon as Grace was upstairs and safely out of earshot.
Danvers crossed to a small cabinet in one corner. “Of course it was necessary. I had to put on a bit of a show or else she would never have believed our ‘introduction.’ Whiskey?”
“No.”
“Ah, now, don’t be ungracious.” Taking down two glasses, he unstoppered a bottle and poured them both a draught. “You deserve to celebrate. When I devised my plan, I knew you were the perfect man to win over my girl, and now I see just how right I was.”
Danvers held out one of the glasses, leaving Jack little choice but to accept, else he would appear as ungracious as he’d been accused of being. He didn’t raise the libation to his lips, however.
“Besides,” Danvers continued in a conversational tone, “I needed to see how Gracie really feels about you. I must say that you’ve exceeded even my own high expectations. Masterfully done, Byron.” Raising his glass, he drank a swallow.
Jack ground his teeth. “She’s not a marionette to be manipulated at will, you know.”
Danvers shot him a hard look. “No, she’s my daughter, for whom I want only the best. She just required a push in the right direction to find what she’s really needed all along. A husband, and the babies you’re going to give her. Children I suspect you’re already well on your way to providing.”
Jack held his tongue, deciding not to satisfy the old man’s curiosity about whether he’d taken Grace to his bed yet—even if both of them knew the answer.
“I’m pleased she loves you,” Danvers said. “I can tell you make her happy. See to it you keep her that way.” The older man swallowed a mouthful of whiskey, then set down his glass. “Now, about the money.”
Bloody hell, the money, Jack thought. I’d almost forgotten that particular detail. Almost.
“Sixty thousand pounds will be deposited into the account of your choice as soon as notice of your engagement appears in all the appropriate papers,” Danvers stated. “The other sixty thousand will be yours the day of the wedding, along with the erasure of your gaming debt to me, of course. I assume that will be satisfactory, my lord?”
Jack’s fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. How he wished he could toss the offer back in Danvers’s face. Tell him he didn’t need, or want, his damned money. But both of them would know his words to be nothing but an empty lie. Jack might wish to rely on pride, but like it or not, he did need that money—to say nothing of the necessity of being freed of the hundred thousand pounds he owed Danvers.
His future father-in-law certainly knew how to keep him under his thumb until the marriage v
ows were taken. Obviously Danvers was worried Jack might bolt unless he maintained a certain amount of leverage against him. But in spite of the undeniable lure of keeping his bachelor’s freedom, Jack knew it was already too late. He couldn’t run, not without hurting Grace. And that he would not do. He’d taken her innocence, and she was his responsibility now. He wouldn’t abandon her, nor did he wish to do so, even if he could.
Glancing down, he stared at the whiskey glass in his hand. Maybe I could do with a drink, after all? He tossed the draught down in a single gulp, grateful for the resulting sting in his throat and the burn in his belly.
“Yes,” he said, his words sounding faintly numb even to his own ears. “That will be more than satisfactory.”
* * *
CHAPTER 13
The following afternoon, Grace tucked a hand against her hip to keep it from trembling as she sat next to Jack on the sofa in the Clybourne House drawing room. His voice was low and smooth as he spoke to his mother, the Dowager Duchess of Clybourne, his sister Lady Mallory, and his eldest brother Edward, the Duke of Clybourne.
Try as she might not to be intimidated, she was finding the task far from easy. While it was true she’d attended school with the daughters of several aristocrats, none of them had possessed anything close to the ancient lineage and innate nobility of the Byrons. The members of Jack’s family were quite simply some of the most elegant, naturally refined people she’d ever met. How on earth would she ever be able to fit in with them?
Surely they’ll revile me for my inferior birth and wonder at Jack for bringing me into their midst? Worse, what would they think when he told them the news of their engagement? Suddenly she realized that while she’d been wool-gathering, he’d been busy doing exactly that.
“Married!” Ava Byron declared, the dowager’s still beautiful features alighting with clear pleasure. “I knew when we had your letter that something momentous was afoot, and I see I was right. But still, I never expected an engagement. Only think, I will have gained two new daughters in the same year.”
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