Intimate Deception

by Laura Landon

  “No, Carver. A cup of tea won’t help. Only His Grace’s head on a platter will help.”

  “Y...yes, Your Grace,” he stuttered, backing away faster than Grace thought Carver could move.

  Grace sat back down in her chair a moment longer. Her feet were swollen, her back ached, and she didn’t walk when she moved, she waddled. Each time she passed the mammoth gold-embossed mirror on the foyer wall, she realized she was probably the largest expectant mother in all of England. And she still had at least three, perhaps four weeks until her babe would make an appearance.

  What was he trying to do to her?

  The change in him was driving her mad. It had begun after Caroline was delivered of her daughter.

  Before that night, she’d seen the worry on his face. Saw it in the way he watched her, held her. She knew her pregnancy concerned him. Now his worry didn’t reach the surface. He kept his emotions hidden, as if he’d convinced himself his fear didn’t exist.

  This new course of defense frightened her more. It was as if he’d found a way to separate himself from his fears—from her. His answer was to immerse himself in work. And in his search for the man who’d tried to kill them.

  Vincent was a man possessed. Possessed with whatever it took to keep the wall secured around his heart. Well, she wouldn’t let him get by with it any longer. Not after what she’d found out today.

  She pushed herself from the chair and took two steps to repeat her way through the dining room, then stopped short. The front door opened and she turned.

  Vincent swept his hat from his head as he entered the house and looked up. A frown covered his face as he looked first at the chair in the middle of the room, then at Grace.

  “Grace?”

  His inquiring gaze turned more curious as the footman in charge of the chair almost ran from the room. He looked to Carver, who silently reached for his master’s hat, gloves, and cane, then raised his eyes heavenward as a warning to his master.

  Grace nearly roared her disapproval, but she held her temper. She didn’t want to waste any of her anger on anyone but Vincent.

  She waited, her hands balled into tight fists that she propped on her hips.

  He waited too, as if he were completely oblivious as to why she might be upset. As if he couldn’t imagine what had upset her so. He started to speak, then closed his mouth and opted for silence as his best course.

  His silence only made her angrier. She was spoiling for a good fight, and his lack of participation wasn’t helping at all.

  How dare he!

  “Did you have a good day?” she asked, her voice tight, her words clipped.

  He hesitated a second before answering, as if debating which answer would be less combative. She hoped he realized it didn’t really matter.

  “I’ve had worse.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I had business to attend to.”

  “Really? What sort of business?”

  He arched his eyebrows as if debating the wisdom of telling her she’d crossed the line in asking about affairs that were none of her concern. “Personal business. Estate business with Mr. James.”

  “How strange. Mr. James came looking for you while you were out. He had the papers he said you wanted. I left them on your desk.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And later I received a message from your solicitor. He wanted to make sure you received the instructions to bring the Marquess of Wedgewood and Viscount Carmody by at your earliest convenience to sign the documents. That the signing must be witnessed in order for everything to be indisputable.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to receive the messenger myself.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  His shoulders lifted as his lungs filled with air, then he released it on a heavy sigh. He stepped over to her and reached out his hands as if he thought holding her could make her forget all her questions.

  He held up his hands in surrender when she twisted out of his grasp.

  With another sigh, he walked to his study and opened the door. “Very well, Grace. Perhaps we can discuss this in private. Or would you rather remain here so all the servants can hear our personal business as well?”

  Grace walked across the foyer and swished past him, turning to face him the minute the door closed.

  “What have you done, Vincent? What do Wedgewood and Carmody have to do with our affairs?”

  “It is nothing, Grace. Only business.”

  She fisted her hands. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing! I read the papers! I know what you’ve done. Know that you’ve put all your properties that are not entailed into my name upon your death, with the stipulation that they go to our child when he reaches maturity. And that you’ve placed Wedgewood and Carmody as trustees until that time.”

  His face paled. “I wish you hadn’t looked at the papers. They were not your concern.”

  “Weren’t they?”

  He slashed his hand through the air. “Is this going somewhere, Grace? These questions?”

  “Yes, Vincent. They are.” She took an angry step closer to him. “I’d like your opinion. Do you think I’ll look good in black?”

  His head jerked upward, a muscle at his jaw working furiously.

  “Since we’re so recently married, I’m sure I’ll be expected to wear it the full two years. I just wanted to know what you thought about—”

  “Grace, stop!”

  “No, Vincent. I don’t think so. Did you know I had even more visitors this afternoon?”

  He didn’t answer, but then she didn’t really give him a chance to.

  “Yes. Josie, Francie, and Sarah stopped by to make sure I was all right. No,” she said, holding up her hand to correct herself. “Actually, they stopped by to make sure you were all right. Especially after finding out you’d been shot at again yesterday.”

  “How did they find out?” he asked, as if that made the least difference.

  “Josie overheard Wedgewood telling Carmody that they had to guard you more carefully because the bullet didn’t miss you by a foot. Imagine my surprise.”

  “Bloody hell!”

  “What was that, Vincent?”

  “Nothing!”

  “And after they left, I needed to go outside to clear my head and was informed that you’d given orders I wasn’t to go out unless you were with me.”

  Vincent brushed his hand over his jaw and took a deep breath.

  Grace saw the worry on his face and the dark circles around his eyes. She knew he hadn’t slept much the last few nights but thought her restlessness was to blame. Now she knew it was only partly her fault. Now she knew his days of endless searching to find the man who’d tried to kill them was taking its toll. She wanted to comfort him but couldn’t. She was still too angry.

  She took another step closer. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me he was back?”

  “What could you have done other than worry?”

  She stomped her foot. “I could have forbidden you to go out until he’s found. I could have kept you here with me.” She paced the floor, then flung her hand through the air in frustration. “I could have taken care of you so nothing happened to you.”

  He smiled at the absurdity of her declarations. His smile did nothing except wrench her heart and bring closer to the surface the tears she’d so successfully kept at bay. She swept them away with her trembling fingers.

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was back?” she whispered, and her voice broke.

  Vincent shoved a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know until yesterday. I’ve been watching his house every day since the night of the opera. I think he must have left for France soon after that. There has been no sign of him since.”

  “What happened yesterday?” Her voice trembled and her legs weakened beneath her. She stepped over to the settee and sat.

  “Wedgewood was with me. We watched the house for a few hours as usual and saw no activity. When we decided to leave, we dr
ove around through the back, past the carriage house. Wedgewood saw some fresh tracks that intrigued him, and we got out to take a look. Just as we bent down to investigate, a bullet rang past me. It lodged in the wood of the carriage house door to my right. I was not hurt, Grace.”

  “But you could have been.”

  He sat down beside her. “Yes, I could have been.”

  She clenched her hands in her lap and bit at her lower lip to keep it from trembling. She saw him move to put his arm around her, but he stopped when she huddled into herself.

  “I went to the authorities and they promised to watch out for him. But—”

  “But?”

  “There is little they can do without proof. I have never actually seen him. It is just my word that he is responsible.”

  Grace digested what Vincent said. Everything suddenly overwhelmed her and she feared she might shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t hold her in his arms.

  “Vincent?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you please hold me?”

  “Yes. I will hold you.”

  He reached his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him, then settled back against the cushions with her in his arms.

  “I don’t want you to worry, Grace. Getting upset cannot be good for you.” He placed his hand over hers where it rested on her stomach, then kissed the top of her head.

  “Do you know what frightened me the most?” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Even more than the thought of having to spend the rest of my life without you?”

  “No.”

  Huge tears spilled down her cheeks and she wiped them away with her fingers. “It was the thought of having to live out my life knowing that I hadn’t told you recently how much I love you.”

  She heard and felt him take in air. “Grace, I—”

  She reached up and placed a finger against his lips. “I don’t expect you to say anything. It’s not your fault I’ve fallen so hopelessly in love with you. It’s a choice I made with my eyes wide open.” She snuggled closer to him, knowing there were things she had to say that couldn’t be put off.

  “I’ve known from the first that you couldn’t love me back.”

  “Grace, I—”

  “It’s all right, Vincent,” she interrupted. “I understand why you aren’t able to risk your heart. I realize that if it hadn’t been for my deception you wouldn’t have married again. That I put you in this awkward position.”

  Grace felt his hold on her tighten, and a lump formed in her throat when he kissed the top of her head. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. The emotion weighed so heavily inside her. “I want you to know I wouldn’t change anything if given the chance.”

  She placed her palm against his chest and held it there. “Now I would like a favor and a promise, Vincent.”

  “Anything, Your Grace.”

  “The promise first. I want you to swear you will never keep things from me again. I’ve led my whole life fearing the unknown. Living with my father was trial enough. I learned I could deal with anything as long as I knew what I was up against. Will you promise me that, Vincent?”

  She heard him chuckle. “I have underestimated you again, haven’t I? I should have remembered the courage you keep telling me you have.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. You should have remembered.”

  Grace shifted in Vincent’s arms and lifted her hand to cup his cheek. “Now, my favor.” She rubbed her thumb across his lips. “I would like my husband to take me upstairs.”

  She saw the doubt on his face.

  “Are you sure, Grace?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m very sure.”

  Vincent lowered his head and captured her lips, kissing her deeply and desperately. She matched his kisses, then let him help her to her feet. With his arms around her, they walked out of the study and across the foyer. Grace refused to acknowledge the grin on Carver’s face as she and Vincent made their way up the stairs.

  Just as she refused to think about the papers Vincent had had drawn up and the reason he thought they were imperative.

  She loved him.

  Vincent stared at the papers on his desk in front of him without really seeing them. Instead, all he could think of was what Grace had said four days ago when he’d held her. What she’d repeated as she lay in his arms. She loved him.

  He looked up to where she sat in the overstuffed chair he’d brought in for her. She sat as gracefully as a very pregnant woman could sit and leaned her head against the side of the chair. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she was only resting. The minute he moved, her eyes snapped open as if she needed to watch him to make sure he was safe.

  Oh God, but he loved her. More than he thought it was possible to love anyone. And it scared him to death.

  He looked at her small, fragile body, then down at the mound that was his babe. He broke out in a cold sweat every time he thought of her trying to birth it. The fear he felt forced him to struggle to take a breath.

  She turned and moaned. Then clutched her hand to her side. He knew she was uncomfortable, but not once did she complain.

  “Grace,” he said, walking over to where she sat. “I have a little more work to do here, but I want you to go upstairs and rest until I’m finished.”

  “I’m fine, Vincent.”

  “No. You’re not. You need to lie down. Besides, I can’t get any work done with you here. I’m too tempted to sit beside you and kiss you until neither of us can think straight.”

  “Mmm. That sounds delightful.” Her mouth lifted to a warm smile.

  “To you, maybe. To me it’s just damned uncomfortable.”

  She laughed, and the sound filled the room like sunshine on a cloudy, dreary day. “Go on, now. I’ll be up to check on you as soon as I’m finished.”

  She let him help her to her feet. “Very well. I don’t know why, but I am quite tired today.”

  “Then you should rest.” He kissed her on the forehead, then walked with her toward the door. They stopped as Carver entered on a knock.

  “Mr. Germaine and a Mr. Percy Parker are here to see you, Your Grace.”

  “Show them in, Carver.”

  Carver left, and Grace turned to face Vincent. “Perhaps I should stay, Vincent. Perhaps they’ve heard something about Fentington.”

  Vincent put his arm around her shoulder and escorted her toward the door. “If it’s anything important, I’ll tell you.”

  She worried her lower lip. “Promise me you won’t leave me. I don’t want to be left alone, Vincent.”

  “I’m not going anywhere except to take you to your room.”

  Vincent wrapped his arm around her and led her to the door as Germaine and Parker entered.

  “Your Grace,” they both greeted.

  Grace nodded politely. “Mr. Germaine. Mr. Parker.”

  Parker went into the room, but Germaine lingered. His gaze lowered to her protruding stomach. The look on his face was one of surprise, but he recovered quickly and reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “May I say you look radiant?”

  “How kind of you, Cousin,” Grace said on a laugh. “As you can see, I have blossomed since we last visited several months ago.”

  His gaze moved back to her stomach. “I see it won’t be long before you present Raeborn with his heir. Much sooner than I anticipated. My most heartfelt congratulations to you both.”

  Grace smiled. “Thank you. We are both looking forward to the event.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Germaine said on a polite bow.

  Grace looked toward Vincent, then back to Germaine. “It was nice seeing you again, but if you will excuse me, I was about to retire.”

  “Of course. Good day, Your Grace.”

  Vincent ushered Grace to the door. He was annoyed with the way his cousin had looked at her with a belittling expression because Grace was so close to delivering. As if the fact that Grace had conceived their babe before their wedding lowered Germaine’s opinion of
her.

  “Please, make yourselves comfortable,” he said, looking over his shoulder to the side table where several crystal decanters of liquor sat. “I’ll escort Her Grace upstairs and return shortly.”

  “Of course, Raeborn. Take your time.”

  Vincent walked Grace to her room and assured her he had no intention of leaving the house, then walked back to the study where his cousin and Parker waited.

  “What have you found out?” Vincent sat in the chair behind his desk. Percival Parker sat in the wing chair in front of him to his left, and his cousin sat in the chair to his right.

  “We found him, Your Grace,” Mr. Parker said, a smile of satisfaction on his face.

  Germaine leaned forward in his chair. “He’s been hiding in a house on Border’s Lane.”

  The muscles in Vincent’s jaw tightened.

  “He’s been staying with a Mrs. Jordean,” Parker added. “She runs an establishment that caters to gentlemen who have peculiar tastes.”

  Vincent’s stomach turned. “Is he still there?”

  “He left that establishment a few hours ago. I followed him on foot until he reached the market area, then he hired a hansom cab and I lost him. But don’t worry. We know where to find him now. He can’t hide for long.”

  Vincent slid back his chair and looked out the window behind his desk. An uncontrollable fury grew inside him, fury increasing every time he thought of the attempts on his life and on Grace’s.

  “What are you going to do, Raeborn?”

  Vincent slowly turned to face his guests. “I’m not going to give him a chance to try to kill me again. Hire as many men as you need, Parker. But I want that house watched twenty-four hours a day. The minute he shows up, I want to know it.”

  “Do you want us to go in after him?”

  “No. I want to be there. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

  Both Parker and Kevin smiled, but Vincent didn’t. How could one smile when it was likely that before the sun set on tomorrow he’d be responsible for a human being’s death?

  Grace woke the next morning with a nagging backache. She attributed her restless night to Vincent, Baron Fentington, Kevin Germaine, and Mr. Parker. They were all responsible for her fitful sleep.