****
The moment Grace descended the stairs, Ewan knew he was in trouble. Not only did she not want his presence, which he had expected. But also, she looked far too beautiful to be out with Shiply in the company of only a maid. The realization hardened his resolve to be the wedge between them in any way possible. He again wasn't willing to examine just why; he simply knew it was necessary.
As Grace began to apologize for her lack of manners, he began to explain his plan, knowing she wouldn't be thrilled, but he was determined, nonetheless.
"You're expecting Shiply, I know. I spoke with him after you left and informed him that I was concerned with his reputation, and I notified him that I was a family friend looking out for your best interest. He let me know that he was going to walk with you this morning. I requested that I come along. Unorthodox, I know, but given Shiply's character, I felt a more masculine presence would be safer than the simple presence of a maid, although I'm sure you should have one accompany us as well."
A tall maid entered the room and stood to the side, waiting to accompany Grace. As Ewan turned his attention back to Grace, he noticed the crimson hue of her cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from anger.
Ewan waited for the inevitable explosion of Grace's temper. But he was firm in his decision, and he refused to admit the reason why. He broadened his stance, knowing Grace would be rather upset. He admired her passion and spirit. He always had.
"You what?" she asked, sounding completely dumbfounded. In her shock, she did not even raise her voice.
Ewan smiled to himself, feeling on top of the world for being one step ahead of Grace. "Must I speak slower? Or were my words to large for you?" he teased, unable to help himself.
Her mouth dropped open before her eyes narrowed, and he felt just the slightest bit afraid.
"Of all the arrogant, conceited, self-serving and manipulative—"
Lady Jarvais breezed into the entryway. "Ahh, dear. I see you have greeted our guest." Lady Jarvais winked at Ewan, and he tried to keep his smile in check but failed, earning a fierce scowl from Grace. Lady Jarvais went over to Grace and kissed her cheek.
"Mother, what do you mean by allowing this?" Grace asked, her words almost a whine.
"Allowing…?" Lady Jarvais asked, waiting with an expectant expression.
"Allowing Ewan to… interfere. It is of no consequence to him, or at least it shouldn't be," she added, with a glare aimed at Ewan.
"It's for the best, dear. After all, we don't have your father here at the moment, and your brothers are too busy with their own families. When Ewan offered to look out for you, why, I couldn't turn him down." Lady Jarvais's tone was soft, easily undermining her daughter's indignation. With a small smile, she cupped Grace's cheek, then moved toward the parlor.
Lady Jarvais's explanation puzzled Ewan. What was she doing? He shifted uneasily on his feet, wondering what Lady Jarvais had up her sleeve. As he watched her leave, she turned slightly and winked in his direction, affirming his suspicions that she was up to something. Before he could react she was gone.
"That's not what you said! And you call me the liar!" Grace accused in a hoarse whisper.
"I, er, well…" Ewan was unsure of how to continue. If he affirmed that indeed Lady Jarvais was behind his involvement, then he'd be calling her a liar to her own daughter. Unwise. Especially in Grace's fit of temper at the moment. But if he agreed with Lady Jarvais's explanation, then he would be implicating himself as a liar, the very thing he held over Grace's head with glee. Therefore he reverted back into the eleven-year-old pest.
"My dear," he began with his practiced patronizing tone that he used often on Grace, simply to ruffle her feathers. "Your mother and I both agreed on the situation. Besides, what's done is done. It no longer matters who came up with the brilliant idea," he added with a smile, knowing he had once again gained the upper hand.
Grace scowled, her wide lips pulling into a thin line of consternation. Her green eyes squinted as she evaluated his words, testing them for a weakness to exploit. He took the moment of silence to truly consider her. His eyes roamed over her riding outfit, appreciating the nip and tuck of the fabric that accentuated her perfect curves. She was beautiful when she was angry.
"Stop," Grace commanded.
"What?" Confused, Ewan snapped his eyes from the curve of her hip to her flashing eyes.
"Stop doing that." Grace spoke in a low tone that he found seductive regardless of the anger behind its tone.
"Doing what?" he asked, uncomfortable that she'd caught his brazen gaze. Normally he wouldn't have minded had a woman noticed him appreciating her body, but this was Grace.
"Do not examine me as though you're undressing me with your wicked eyes," she accused, seeming to be overly frustrated.
Ewan understood the sensation all too readily. He was beginning to feel frustrated himself, just not the same way as Grace.
"I was not." He was turning into a liar, a deceptive liar. All because of Grace and her incessant need to call him on every rakish move. She was exasperating, yet rather than annoying him, it drove him to distraction, and heaven help him, he found it alluring. An unwelcome distraction in which he found himself wondering what she tasted like, what her skin felt like, and he was frustrated at the realization that he had no idea and likely never would.
****
Grace was trying not to show the fevered reaction she immediately had experienced once she noticed the way Ewan's gaze drank her in. It's all a ruse, she repeated to herself. Ewan might, might find her attractive, but it was nothing more. If she succumbed to his charm, she would simply become part of the parade of faceless bodies that had graced his bed. That was not going to happen.
Centering her focus required her to pull from all her inner strength to combat her feverish emotions. She remained calm and collected on the outside as the storm warred within.
Curse him for the effect he has on me!
What she needed was a distraction, so she closed her eyes, momentarily thinking of Lord Shiply. Soon he would arrive, and she would be blessedly distracted from Ewan. He couldn't get there soon enough. As if her thoughts had called to him, she heard Taite answer the door and escort him into the foyer where she and Ewan were waiting.
"Ahh, Lady Grace! How lovely you look today!" Lord Shiply said charmingly as he strode forward, eyes only for Grace as he kissed her gloved hand. "Thank you, Lord Shiply," Grace responded with a gracious nod.
"I believe you are even more beautiful today than last night, if that were possible," Lord Shiply continued to compliment Grace with a sincere tone.
"Ah, you are the flatterer aren't you, Lord Shiply?" Grace flirted. This was exactly what she needed. A deep relaxing breath relieved a portion of the tension created by Ewan's presence. She allowed herself to be lost in the warm gaze offered by Shiply.
"I only speak the truth." He waved his hand dismissively. "Now, if we are to walk together you must call me Shiply; everyone else does." His eyes crinkled in a grin that lifted only one side of his mouth.
"Very well, Shiply." Grace tilted her head to the side, enjoying the charming way he smiled.
****
As Grace blushed at his compliment, Ewan kicked himself for not mentioning it first. Rather, he had brazenly assessed her without a word. He truly was a rake.
Ewan watched the exchange silently, unable to speak without saying words he'd surely regret later. Rather, he considered ways to trip Shiply and cause serious injury without being blamed. The need to address his nemesis forced him to gather a deep and fortifying breath. "Hello there, Shiply."
"Greys? Didn't see you there, old man. I must admit I didn't know if I'd see you this morning. A little early for you, isn't it?" Shiply looked at him as if he truly hadn't noticed his presence before he had spoke to him. And as much as Ewan wanted to see a double meaning behind his words, he found none reflected in his eyes.
"As much as I thank you for your concern over my aged sleepless self, I am here to
walk with you both this morning." Ewan waited, knowing it was only a matter of time before Shiply's true character was revealed.
"Ah, yes." Shiply regarded him curiously before dismissing him and returning his gaze to Grace. "We wouldn't want any harm to come to Lady Grace's reputation, after all. I must confess, Lady Grace, I am ashamed to say my reputation at one time was less than pristine. However, that was long ago, and I swear to treat you with the utmost care." He bowed slightly and smiled at Grace.
Ewan ground his teeth. He wanted to strangle Shiply for his confession. Less than pristine? Ewan thought. No, that didn't begin to cover the many sins of Spencer Raleigh, Earl of Shiply. Surely he hadn't reformed that much. Once a rake always a rake. Correct?
Ewan's anger increased and gained a healthy dose of fear when he noticed Grace's reaction.
"Why, Shiply, how honest of you to confess! But I have all faith that you will be more than a gentleman. But I thank you for being so forthright." Grace nodded her gratitude. Respect for Shiply's admission shone brightly from her eyes.
Ewan was concerned. Surely Grace could see through the lie? She wouldn't fall willingly into Shiply's waiting hands once the 'gentlemanly' actions were replaced by his true nature.
But a new thought stole his anger and made his blood run suspiciously cold. What if Shiply wasn't lying, after all?
Chapter Four
Grace proceeded to drag him into their parlor moments after Shiply's departure. He knew what was coming, he could clearly see her anger building, but he wasn't sorry for his behavior. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"What exactly was that all about?" Grace asked in a deceptively calm tone, but the fire flashing from her eyes bespoke an underlying anger.
"What was what?" Ewan asked, unable to resist baiting her when she was so deliciously furious.
"That, when you — you… Aghh!" Her hands shot into the air in a gesture of frustration, one she'd done since she was young. Her familiar action was endearing, and Ewan felt warmed by the sensation. He couldn't resist the temptation to tease her further.
"When I…?" Ewan kept his expression open and innocent, which seemed to force Grace's complexion into a lovely shade of red.
"When you kissed my hand!" she yelled.
It took all his inner strength to keep from bursting out with a loud laugh. The shade of red enhancing Grace's lovely skin was amusing. That Grace had no clue how strange she sounded being irate over a polite gesture made Ewan almost choke on his suppressed laughter.
Her quickened breath interrupted his musings. Ewan almost forgot the conversation. Almost.
"And that offended you?" he teased, lifting his eyes from her delectable chest and forcing himself to meet her gaze. He raised his eyebrows in expectation.
"Yes! It offended me! You humiliated me!" She waved her arms around again in her exasperation.
"By kissing your hand?" Ewan calmly replied, still working hard to keep his laughter from overcoming his self-control. Grace would probably attack him if he dared share his humor in the situation. The thought of her body pressed against his was anything but threatening — rather, the idea intrigued him. The physical effect of his thoughts became uncomfortable, and he barely suppressed a groan at her next words.
"By using your tongue!" A parlor maid, who had just entered the room, raised an eyebrow toward Grace. She left discreetly, but not before Grace's angry crimson color was drained in humiliation and replaced with a dark blush.
"I did nothing of the sort." Ewan spoke with a dismissive tone, knowing full well he had nearly molested her hand. He lifted his gloved hand to brush imaginary dust from his coat and took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding blood. He recalled the scene with pleasure. He had kissed her hand, simultaneously issuing a challenge to Shiply, a challenge he intended to win.
He couldn't think of the prize, not yet. Even now he was silently astounded that he had acted so brazenly — so rashly. But when Shiply's words, drenched in honey, were falling on Grace, and she seemed to soak them up so willingly, all he could think was that he could not — would not — stand by and let her be torn from his life. As the walk had progressed through the park, Ewan had grown more and more angry and frustrated with the situation, sensing no resistance in Grace to Shiply's overt courtship.
She's mine, he wanted to announce and promptly beat Shiply to a pulp. What stopped him from proceeding was the truth that Grace did not belong to him, in any way. The realization had washed over him like cold water. True, she was his friend, in a manner of speaking, but he wasn't the one who drew out the seductive smile she unknowingly offered to Shiply. No, he wasn't even the one who made her toss her head back and laugh, offering both him and Shiply a view of her glorious slender neck.
Even now, Ewan licked his lips in thought of what her skin would taste like, should he press his lips to the slight hollow under her chin. Oh, why had he agreed to watch out for Grace? Why did he willingly put himself in such a position of such exquisite torture? Rather than courting Grace himself, he was reduced to watching someone else kiss her hand, make her laugh, and seduce her with a smoldering glance.
With that last thought, he had made up his mind and came to his rash decision. Shiply wasn't going to court Grace without some competition — namely, him. Without allowing himself to think of the ramifications of such a decision, he began to plan.
So silently he stood by, waiting for the prime opportunity to throw the gauntlet, preferably without Grace knowing. He wasn't quite sure he was ready to admit his feelings out loud, let alone to Grace, who would likely reject him. After all, his reputation wasn't much better than Shiply's.
Then, as Shiply kissed the air above her hand in the most proper way just as he was leaving, Ewan made his move. As soon as Shiply stepped away, Evan advanced. With purposeful steps toward his prey, he approached Grace and crisply bowed, taking her gloved hand within his own and gently caressing her fingers as his hand gradually tightened, holding her fingers firm.
His heart began to beat strangely as he noticed the slight parting of Grace's lips and the hazy look in her eyes. He hoped it was passion, but he knew it could easily have been anger. After all, wasn't the line between love and hate thin? But when he leaned forward to kiss her hand, he didn't simply kiss the air above it, rather he teased the gloved flesh with the tip of his nose before applying a firm kiss onto her hand, using his tongue to caress and heat her hand, even through the fabric of her glove.
After his prolonged exchange he tilted his head slightly to see Shiply narrow his eyes with realization, crinkle his mouth into a smile, and offer a nod that bespoke his understanding and acceptance of the challenge.
The arrogance! He didn't even seem intimidated.
He glanced up into Grace's face in efforts to read her response. When his eyes locked with hers, he saw that they were soft with a hint of hope that quickly gave way to anger and suspicion.
Her temper was held in check as she said her good-byes to Shiply. She then promptly escorted Ewan into the parlor and proceeded to vent her anger, which was where they were currently.
****
Grace couldn't separate the millions of emotions that fought for dominance in her heart. Anger, hurt, suspicion, arousal, and hope all warred within her, and she refused to let just one win the battle.
How dare he! In front of Shiply, no less! Just when she had found a promising distraction that could free her from the allure Ewan unknowingly held over her, he decided to play rake with her!
She shouldn't have been too surprised. After all, it wasn't the first time he had overtly flirted with her, but it was the first time she thought he might have meant it.
That was what frightened her. If Ewan ever pursued her in earnest, she wouldn't have a prayer of escaping with her heart intact. But that was his signature: broken hearts littering the path behind him.
With steely resolve, she had tried to extinguish the hope that sprung up so quickly at the hazy and heated expression in his alluring eyes as he c
aressed her hand with his delicious tongue.
Simply thinking about his brazen move made her blush again. Shaking her head slightly she tried to clear it and gain a solid footing. "You most certainly did do that! And what was worse is you did it in front of Shiply!" she whined, hating the sound of her own voice.
She sounded as though she was eight again. No wonder Ewan hadn't pursued her — she still acted like a child. With a tilt of her chin, she straightened up her spine. "Forgive me for whining, but really, Ewan!" Her honest frustration seemed to drain him of his constant mirth at her expense.
For a change, he looked unsure, causing Grace to furrow her brow in confusion. Just what was going on with Ewan? He had been silent for a long moment as she had vented her anger and now was giving her an expression she hadn't seen on him before: uncertainty.
****
What is wrong with me? Seeing the sincere frustration in Grace's expression made him feel low, unworthy, and, well, like the rogue he was. Could she have a firm attachment to Shiply so quickly? Was he already too late? Was there no hope? Angry, he shook his head in an attempt to gather his frayed thoughts.
What had seemed like a brilliant idea earlier was now turning his stomach sour. What if, in his brazen attempt at spreading his peacock feathers, he had ruined any chance for Grace to take him seriously? His head spun with thoughts and unfamiliar and unwelcome emotions. Ewan promptly spun on his heel and left, deep in thought.
Not until he walked into his house did he realize he hadn't even said good-bye — another black mark against him.
Do I dare have any hope at all? he wondered as he reached for his brandy and took a long, deep drink, hoping to lose his emotional self in the amber liquid.
****
Redeeming the Deception of Grace Page 3