by Laura Landon
“Your Grace,” the Marchioness of Wedgewood said, drawing Vincent’s gaze away from the shadows beneath Grace’s eyes. “I’m planning a small dinner party a week from tonight to celebrate the return of my youngest sister, Lady Anne, from her honeymoon. Would you do us the honor of attending?”
Vincent bowed politely. “I’d be delighted.”
“Excellent,” Lady Wedgewood said, her smile sincere. “I’ll send an invitation by messenger tomorrow.”
His gaze met Grace’s for just a moment before the Marquess of Wedgewood included him in a conversation he was having with three or four other men who’d just arrived. Vincent kept half his attention tuned to what the men were saying while keeping an eye on Grace at the same time. She was pale, and if he was any judge, she’d thickened around the middle in the last month. A niggling worry churned deep inside him.
He stepped closer to her. “Excuse me, my lady, but would you care to accompany me outside for a breath of fresh air?”
A frown creased her forehead, her expression almost one of surprise. Then a smile lifted her lips as if she suddenly remembered the role she was to play. Vincent held out his arm and she took it.
The terrace was empty when they reached it, but he led her down one of the lighted paths, not wanting to take a chance of being overheard. A small, vine-covered gazebo sat in the center of the garden. He led her there.
They stepped up the stairs and he followed her to a bench. She sat down and he stood in front of her, resting the fingers of one hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine. I am just tired, that’s all.”
“Are you ill in the mornings yet?”
She jerked away from him and bolted to her feet. “No!”
Vincent stepped back to let her rush past him.
She walked to the other side of the gazebo and stopped with her back to him. She clutched her arms around her middle in a stance of self-protection and stared out into the darkness as if there were something she might see.
His heart ached to go to her, to hold her, to comfort her. But he knew she still needed time. She still needed to come to terms with what was happening to her. To them.
He saw her shoulders quiver and heard her breath shudder. He couldn’t take her torment any longer. He walked up behind her and turned her into his arms.
“It’s all right, Grace. There’s nothing to be done about it now.”
“I’m still not certain. I’m quite irregular. I...I...”
“Shh,” he whispered. He held her close and cradled her head against his chest. She trembled in his arms and he knew she was struggling to keep the tears from building.
“Would it be so terrible to carry my name and bear my child?”
She pulled away from him and swept one gloved finger across her cheeks before leaning against the wooden railing. She kept her back to him, her shoulders rigid and her chin high. “Let me ask you, Your Grace,” she said, her pain-filled gaze locked with his. “Would you have cast me even a second glance had we met under normal circumstances?”
“I would like to think I would have.”
She smiled. “The perfect answer. Just as every overture you’ve made in the last weeks has been perfect—the flowers, the notes, the afternoon rides, the warm smiles when we’re in public. Not only have you made me feel like the most sought-after female in all of London, but you’ve convinced all of society that you truly wish me for your bride.”
“What would you have had me do?”
She absently rubbed her fingers over the wooden railing. “I’ve left you little choice, haven’t I?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. How could he tell her how angry he’d been? How furious, knowing she’d trapped him into marrying her? How terrified he was, knowing he’d probably gotten her with child? Knowing she was forcing him to face his worst nightmare for a third time. He was so bloody terrified, there were times when he thought he would be ill.
And yet, a very small part of him realized her deception had offered him another chance to have an heir. A risk he would never have taken on his own.
She looked at him over her shoulder. “To save myself, I have ruined you. Perhaps there was even someone else you—”
She spun around and her hands flew to her throat. Her eyes grew wide and there was a look of pure panic on her face. “Was there someone else? Was there someone you thought to marry? Someone with whom you considered yourself in love?”
“No. There was no one else. And you have not ruined me.”
He heard her sigh. “Haven’t I? What would you call it?”
Her hands twisted in front of her and Vincent felt the anxiety building. He closed the distance between them and with his fingers clasped on her upper arms, he brought her closer to him. “I think you are worrying far more than is good for you.” He placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face upward, then brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Far more than I want you to.”
With that, he leaned down and kissed her.
Grace knew the minute he held her he was going to kiss her. A commanding voice deep inside her whispered he was only kissing her because it was expected of him. That a simple kiss in the moonlight was the next step in their courtship. That the kiss was an obligatory gesture that meant nothing more to him than the flowers he’d sent or the notes he’d written. A part of her wanted to turn her head away from him so he’d know she didn’t expect him to show his affections when there wasn’t an audience to impress.
But a more commanding voice wouldn’t let her. A part of her was so desperate for him to kiss her that she ached with wanting. That same part of her was desperate to feel his arms around her and his lips touching hers—the way he’d held her and kissed her that night at Madam Genevieve’s. She wanted to relive that moment so badly she could hardly restrain herself.
And a part of her was terrified it wouldn’t be the same. That now that he knew who she was and what she’d done to him, his anger and disappointment would show in the way he touched her. The way he kissed her.
She stiffened, not exactly pulling away from him, yet not yielding either.
“Don’t be afraid, Grace,” he whispered, cupping her face in his hands and rubbing his thumbs in gentle circles against her cheeks. His fingers reached around to the nape of her neck and held her securely.
She breathed a heavy sigh that he must have taken for submission and his lips came down and covered hers again.
The kiss was soft, gentle, teasing, as he moved his lips over hers. And she kissed him back. Tentative at first, then with greater passion. It was all the encouragement he needed.
With his own deep sigh, he wrapped his arms around her and opened his mouth atop hers.
Oh, yes. This is what she remembered. The mating of two souls, the blending of two people’s breath, the clashing of lips. Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His kisses deepened, the effect heady, sucking her under into a spinning whirlpool of uncontrolled emotion. He deepened his kiss, demanding she do the same. And she did.
His tongue touched her lips, running sensually over each one, then boldly entering her mouth as if in search of a prize, as if on a quest. Grace splayed her fingers on the back of his head and held him tight, keeping him close to her while his tongue invaded her mouth. She met him boldly, reaching out to him, seeking, searching, wanting. Finding.
The mating of their tongues was an explosion of raw emotions. An earthy moan whispered in the silence and she knew it was hers.
His mouth moved over hers, each kiss more intense than the last, each meeting of just this one part of their bodies almost more than she could take. And then his kiss deepened.
Grace clung to him because it was all she was capable of doing. Her legs were not strong enough to hold her, her knees no longer steady enough to support her. She held on to him and kissed him back with a desperation she’d never felt before. With a need so consuming she couldn’t believe it was possible to survive
without what he offered her. And she nearly died when he broke away from her.
His lips stilled atop hers, then he lifted his head, separating himself from her. She stifled a cry, his absence almost painful. But he did not release her. With a heavy sigh, he pulled her against him and held her until their breathing returned to normal. For a long time neither of them moved.
“I think it’s time we returned,” he finally said. “People will talk if we stay out much longer.”
He held out his arm and she took it and walked with him back to the house.
“Are you all right?” he asked when they stepped into the warm ballroom.
She wanted to flippantly answer that of course she was, but she wasn’t sure. She only managed a nod.
“Stay here and I’ll get us something to drink. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded again and he left her. She watched him cross the ballroom floor, every magnificent inch of him exuding power and grace. His broad shoulders exemplified a dominant stature and his regal stance demanded respect and admiration. She couldn’t lift her gaze from him.
“He’s quite a striking figure, isn’t he?”
Grace turned to face a very tall, very handsome stranger whose smiling eyes matched the smile on his face. She was instantly drawn to him but didn’t know why, except that he had Vincent’s dark hair and ebony eyes.
“Please, forgive me for startling you, my lady.”
Grace took in several deep breaths. “You didn’t, really. I just didn’t know anyone was there.”
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kevin Germaine. Raeborn’s cousin.”
Grace couldn’t hide her surprise as Germaine bowed low, then lifted her hand to his lips. When he raised his gaze back to her face his eyes contained an openness that connected her to him.
“Ah,” he said, tilting his head to the side in a relaxed gesture. “I see His Grace has been remiss in talking about his family.”
“An oversight I will be sure to bring to his attention.” Grace made the statement with sincerity, but suddenly realized how little she knew about Vincent. How little she’d asked him about his family and his past. “Did you say you were cousins?”
“Yes. My father and Raeborn’s father were brothers. My father died when I was sixteen, leaving Raeborn my guardian.”
“Your guardian?”
“Yes. My father wisely put His Grace in charge of my inheritance as well as my upbringing. I can’t tell you the impact Raeborn has had on my future.”
Grace thought she saw a glimmer of something dark in Germaine’s gaze, but when she looked again it was gone and she realized she must have imagined it. “And does this arrangement meet with your approval?”
“Why would it not, my lady? I can’t imagine a more conscientious trustee than Raeborn. Anyone more in control. I can hardly envision the life I would have if Raeborn weren’t there to oversee the running of my inheritance.”
“Then you and Raeborn must be very close.”
Germaine smiled. “I like to think so. I am his only living relative, which is why I am disappointed he did not tell me about you. Or you about me.”
“I share your disappointment,” she smiled in return.
“I was surprised to discover quite by accident that he’d begun his search for a wife again. You can’t imagine how shocked I was.”
“Shocked?” Grace said, feeling a nervous twitch deep in her stomach.
“Why, yes. Especially considering the tragedy of losing not one, but his two previous wives. And his heirs with them. I am immensely relieved to see he changed his mind and doesn’t intend to abide by his vow to never marry again.”
Grace lowered her gaze. Did people know of this vow? Bring it to mind each time they saw her with Raeborn?
“Remaining alone would have been such a waste. He was quite devoted to them both, and when he didn’t seek companionship again after he’d lost his dear Angeline, I was afraid perhaps he actually believed the ridiculous rumors that he was cursed never to have an heir.”
Grace felt her face grow pale. “Theirs was a love match?” she asked, dreading the answer.
Germaine smiled. “Yes. I believe it was. But that was in the past and this is the present. Anyway, I’m inordinately pleased to see he paid no attention to such gossip,” Kevin Germaine continued. “I’m even more pleased to see he had such impeccable taste as to choose someone with such elegance and beauty.”
Grace’s heart pounded in her breast. She knew she should leave Raeborn’s past buried, but she couldn’t. She wanted to know more, and she knew Raeborn would never divulge that part of his past. “Thank you, sir. But surely you realized His Grace would eventually marry again.”
“Actually I didn’t believe he would.”
“But why?” Grace said, trying to quiet the little voice warning her to leave Raeborn’s past buried.
“Perhaps he does not think the risk worth the loss. I only know he swore most adamantly after the death of his last wife that he would never take another. That he would never consider fathering another child.” Germaine’s smile broadened. “You must be quite special, my lady. Not once since the beautiful Angeline died has his name even been linked with anyone.”
Grace clutched her hands at her sides, trying to hold steady while the room spun around her.
“And may I add that he couldn’t have made a more perfect choice. I can see the two of you will suit each other admirably.”
Painful stabs of guilt weighed heavily against her chest. She couldn’t let Germaine think so. Deceiving the ton was one thing, but deceiving Raeborn’s cousin quite another. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you think so, even though your remarks are quite precipitous. Raeborn and I are just friends.”
The look on Germaine’s face told her he didn’t believe her, but she was thankful he didn’t say so. “Nevertheless, Mr. Germaine, I am glad to make your acquaintance. I should have realized by looking that you were related to Raeborn. Your coloring is the same and you have many of the same features.”
Kevin Germaine smiled broadly. “I will take that as a compliment, my lady. I assume that is because our fathers were brothers.”
“Twins, actually,” Raeborn said from behind her.
Grace turned to see him standing there with two glasses in his hands.
“Twins?” she said, trying to cover her unease.
“Yes. They run in our family on occasion.”
He handed her one of the glasses, and when she took it he stepped closer to her. Grace wanted to separate herself from him. Wanted to put enough distance between them that she didn’t feel as if his nearness were a blanket wrapped around her.
She understood so much more now. She knew the cause of the underlying fury she sensed each time he talked of marrying. He’d had no intention of ever taking another wife. He hadn’t wanted to marry again. Hadn’t wanted another child even though he had no heir.
The room swayed around her and she lifted her glass and took a quick swallow of the cool liquid he’d brought her.
“I didn’t realize you were here,” Raeborn said to his cousin, his eyes holding a special understanding. “It’s a pleasure to see you. It’s been several weeks.”
“Yes, well. I’ve been busy.”
“So I’ve heard. And making admirable progress.”
For several long seconds the two men simply stared at each other. Although Grace wasn’t sure what had transpired between them, she knew it was something. And it was important. Vincent’s cousin was the first to break the silence.
“I suppose I should have realized you would receive a daily accounting,” Germaine said, ignoring the compliment, and then focused his attention on her.
“Raeborn. I can’t tell you how disappointed I am that you did not tell me you had met someone so charming.”
“Then I must apologize. I have indeed.” Raeborn turned his gaze to her and Grace knew it was her cue to play her part again. She smiled.
“And I think there is nothing I
would like more right now than to dance with such a beautiful lady.” He offered her his hand. “If you will excuse us.”
“Of course.”
Raeborn took the glass from her and handed it to a passing footman, then led her to the dance floor. The orchestra was just beginning a waltz, and he pulled her into his arms and expertly twirled her around the floor.
“You dance beautifully,” he said, making conversation. “You cannot imagine how I appreciate dancing with someone who does not tromp on my toes.”
Grace started, then laughed. “That is because I had six sisters I was required to teach to dance. It gave me plenty of practice.”
“Who taught you?”
“My mother. She loved to dance.”
“It shows. How old were you when she died?”
“Twelve.”
“Was she ill?”
“No. She died giving birth to Anne.”
The air suddenly chilled and Grace felt Raeborn’s muscles tense beneath her hands. When she looked up, his face was devoid of expression. “Is something wrong, Your Grace?”
“No,” he answered, but she could see there was. And she knew what it was. For a long time he did not speak, but led her through the steps as effortlessly as if they were second nature to him. When he did pick up the conversation, his words were short and clipped.
“What did my cousin have to say, Grace?”
“Nothing. Only that he wished to make my acquaintance and was disappointed that you had not done the honor of introducing us yourself.”
“That is all?”
Grace felt her face pale. How could she tell him all that Kevin Germaine had told her? How could she tell him that now she knew why he didn’t want her for a wife? Didn’t want to go through a woman’s pregnancy? Didn’t want to risk losing another heir?
“What more could there be?”
His brows lifted. “Nothing.”
He kept his gaze focused on her as if he knew she wasn’t telling him everything. She desperately wanted to be separated from him. To be somewhere far away where she could think. Where she could be by herself. Perhaps that was all she needed. A few days away from everyone and everything. Perhaps if he weren’t standing watch over her, if she didn’t have to continuously play the role he’d assigned her, her body would come back to its senses and this whole nightmare would be over.