He moved to the sideboard to pour himself a drink despite the early hour as Lynette hurried out of the room to do his bidding.
“Women.” He snarled the word to himself. “They’re good for so little.” Once he’d eliminated the boy, he’d make sure Grace met with an unfortunate accident as well. That way, no one would be left to question what happened to the young viscount.
Grace rose unsteadily from the tufted velvet chair in the small sitting room off her bedroom and stood, determined to walk back and forth to the window once more. She wanted to regain her strength as quickly as possible.
When she had to reach out a hand to steady herself after only a few steps, frustration coursed through her. Her hip and ribs ached with each movement, and her days in bed had left her weak.
How ironic that she’d finally found the courage to stand on her own and take action, only to land flat on her back shortly thereafter.
Fate was not making her attempt at independence easy. Was that because it wasn’t meant to be, or was it a test of her fortitude? She dearly hoped it was the latter.
Fortitude she could improve upon, whereas fate could be cruel.
Yesterday’s attempts to walk had brought her to tears. Today wasn’t much better. How could she continue with her plans when she felt so poorly?
“Why are you trying so hard?”
The gruff voice from the doorway had her gasping in surprise. The Earl of Adair had an uncanny ability to startle her and always seemed to catch her at her worst.
She tried a chuckle but knew it sounded off-key. “We’ve taken advantage of your hospitality long enough. Surely you’re ready to be rid of us.”
“On the contrary.” He stepped into the room, his dark good looks striking her down to her toes, self consciousness bringing heat to her cheeks as her robe fluttered around her bare ankles. “It’s the least I can do since it’s my fault you were injured.”
“The blame is mine.” She gave up her attempt to walk and sought her chair, her legs less steady since he’d entered the room. Her physical reaction to him was puzzling. She had yet to decide if he made her uncomfortable because he was so attractive and confident, or because she shouldn’t trust him.
Her indecision added to her frustration. How she wished she could simply rely on her instincts, but she had few of those these days. Not only did she have no one to trust, she couldn’t trust herself. Her current predicament felt impossible and completely overwhelming.
Adair had gently pressured her to reveal her identity until at last she’d told him her surname was Smith. She knew he didn’t believe her and felt terrible lying to him when they’d imposed on his household for so long. All the more reason they needed to leave as soon as possible.
As anxious as she was to get to London, doing so when she still felt weak would serve no purpose. She needed to be strong, physically and mentally, for the days ahead.
He drew nearer and gestured toward the chair next to hers. “May I join you?”
“Of course.” She did her best to don a mask of composure with the hope that it hid her inner turmoil.
A scowl twisted his lips, belying his polite words. One thing she did know was that this man confused her. Sometimes when he looked at her, she couldn’t help but puzzle over what he might be thinking. It was almost as if he didn’t know what to do with her any more than she knew what to do with him. She shook her head at her fanciful thoughts.
“There truly is no hurry for you to leave. I hope nothing I’ve said or done makes you think otherwise.”
“Not at all.” She folded her hands on her lap, uncertain what else to do with them. “But I would like to continue on our journey.”
“Your grand adventure?”
She smiled. “Matthew spoke of it?”
“Once or twice.” Her worry must’ve shown on her face, for he added, “He’s told me little else. For one so young, he’s an excellent keeper of secrets. Far better than most adults.”
“It’s important we keep them.” Would he let it go at that?
“My condolences on the passing of your husband. Matthew didn’t seem to think that was a secret.”
“No. He died just over a year ago.” The temptation to tell him more rose, strong and sure. Did she dare?
“I know we’re little more than strangers, but I have to ask what circumstances brought you to that deserted road on a night with such terrible weather?”
She hesitated, worrying her lower lip as she thought it over. There was still a chance he’d somehow learn their identity. If he did and decided to send a message to Charles of their whereabouts, all they’d gone through to escape him would be for naught. But if he understood their situation, perhaps he’d allow them to leave without revealing their secrets.
“If there is any way I can help,” he said, as if sensing her temptation, “I’d be pleased to do so.”
She debated his request, torn between sharing all or politely declining to say anything. Yet here she and Matthew were, imposing on his generous hospitality for nearly a week now. With a sigh, she followed her urge to tell him at least some of their story, hoping she wouldn’t come to regret it.
“My husband’s death was...unexpected.” Grace paused, well aware of how much of an understatement that was. It had been a complete shock. She closed her eyes briefly as she remembered how angry she’d been as she’d asked him not to go riding when a storm threatened. They’d been drifting apart for months. She’d grown weary of him treating her as if she hadn’t a thought to call her own.
His last words to her had been how she shouldn’t worry her ‘pretty little head’ about the storm. His condescending comments had slowly eroded her confidence over the five years they’d been married. What had been sweet at first—as though his only purpose was to take care of her—had become a wedge between them she hadn’t been able to remove.
But none of that mattered now.
“His cousin and his wife came to stay with us at my husband’s country estate over two months ago and have yet to leave.”
“It sounds as if they’ve overstayed their welcome.”
Again she hesitated, well aware her accusations were both serious and nearly impossible to believe. That had been what had delayed her reaction to Charles’s acts. She’d been convinced her suspicions had to be wrong. That was until she couldn’t ignore them any longer. Until Matthew had nearly been killed. She rubbed her arms as goose pimples covered her skin.
“Charles would inherit the title if anything happened to Matthew. My husband’s father and Charles’s were twins, with my father-in-law being the older by a few minutes. I don’t think Charles has ever been able to accept that. At any rate, after a series of...accidents, I determined that he would do—had done—nearly anything to inherit.”
Adair frowned, causing a prickle of self-doubt to pass through her. No, there could be no denying what Charles had done and why. She’d gone through the facts so many times in her mind she could recite them succinctly.
“What sort of things?”
She hesitated, aware of how inappropriate it was to tell him, but before she knew it, the words were spilling out. “First there was a suggestion of infidelity on my part, but as Matthew looks so much like his father, no one would believe that.”
When Adair scowled, heat slid up her cheeks. If he wasn’t prepared to believe anything she said then why—
“That is something I understand.” He glanced out the window, effectively hiding his thoughts from her, not that she could begin to guess them anyway. “I resemble my father almost uncannily.”
Grace watched him, wondering what was behind that comment. While casual on the surface, undercurrents rippled through the air. She waited, hoping he’d say more.
But when he looked back at her, his face was once again unreadable. “What else occurred?”
In that moment, she wanted to convince him she hadn’t imagined any of it. Before she could think twice, the entire story was emerging.
“A
poisonous snake in the conservatory. A runaway horse escaping from the stables.” She waved a hand in the air, wishing she could as easily brush away the fear the incidents had caused.
“Those are most unfortunate, but sometimes accidents happen. Matthew is a young boy after all. They get into trouble more often than not.”
She closed her eyes briefly, uncertain why she wanted Adair to believe her so badly. But she did. Perhaps it was because he was the first person she’d told of the events.
“They do,” she agreed. “I thought the same thing. But Charles’s reaction to the accidents and his presence nearby each time started me wondering.”
“Why not ask him to leave? Your husband’s estates are now your son’s, and you have every right to determine who is allowed to stay until he comes of age.”
“I did. After the third incident, when Matthew was found in the pond in the early morning hours, supposedly sleepwalking, I asked Charles and his wife to leave.”
“I take it Matthew doesn’t make a habit of sleepwalking?”
“Not before or since.”
“He didn’t wake when he entered the water?”
She shook her head in frustration. “I can only surmise that Charles gave Matthew something to make him sleep. In fact, the maid staying with him that night overslept the next morning as well and seemed unusually groggy.”
“And when you confronted Charles with all of your suspicions?” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“He denied them. He acted so offended at my accusations and convinced the servants that my grief had affected my judgment.”
“Clever man.”
“He even went so far as to suggest that I was no longer the mother I once was.”
The outrage on Adair’s face gave Grace some comfort. He appeared as shocked as she’d been at the entire situation. Could he possibly believe her?
“And of course, if I am unfit to raise my son, he offered to do so.”
“Damn. Is there no one you can call upon to aid you?”
“My mother died when I was young and Father passed away a few months after my wedding.” There was no one. And for that, she blamed herself. She’d become isolated in recent years and had allowed Daniel to limit visits from those who might’ve been friends.
As she looked back, she could see the pattern so clearly. But each outing or dinner or party had seemed inconsequential at the time. She saw now that Daniel had slowly taken over all aspects of her life, narrowing her world to him.
But even worse was that she’d allowed it.
For that, she was having difficulty forgiving herself.
It had taken the threat to Matthew’s life to rouse her anger enough to take action over her future. Their future.
Despite all her planning and efforts, she hadn’t gotten far. The thought was depressing and threatened her resolve once more.
Yet she had no choice. She couldn’t go back. Not with Charles still there. Even if he’d left, he could easily return if he learned she and Matthew had done so. Her mind whirled with the ways he’d spin the reasons she’d taken Matthew and fled. He’d convince everyone she was unfit. She’d lose Matthew. Then Charles would make certain her son didn’t live to see another summer.
While she may not know exactly what to do next, she knew she couldn’t—wouldn’t—lose Matthew. He was her world.
“May I ask where you were going when my coach came upon you?”
“We are traveling to London to stay with my cousin and her husband for a time. She’s the only relative from my side of the family still alive with whom I have a relationship. I believe I can trust her.” She swallowed hard as worry filled her once more.
She hadn’t exchanged letters with Molly for nearly a year. Not since shortly after Daniel died. But Grace hadn’t dared to write her and ask if she and Matthew could pay a visit. Not with Charles lurking around every corner. She’d feared he would somehow intercept her letter and learn of her plans.
“We took a rather circuitous route as I didn’t want Charles to be able to easily follow. We’d intended to arrive in London earlier, but experienced several...delays.” A cough took over once again, reminding her she wasn’t yet fully recovered. “We thought to spend the night with the local vicar so I might recover from this illness before continuing on to London.”
“Then what?”
She frowned at his question, not understanding.
“You hope Charles will lose interest while you’re hidden?” At her nod, Adair shook his head. “How long do you intend to stay with your cousin?”
“As long as it takes.” She didn’t tell him she’d need to find a job once she arrived. In truth, she hadn’t planned ahead more than a few weeks from now.
In the dark of the night, questions and doubts had plagued her, stealing her sleep. What if Molly refused to allow them to stay? What if Charles found them? Would she be able to find work? Would it pay enough to allow her to secure a place for her and Matthew?
Even as all the questions swirled through her mind once again, she felt her entire body tensing. Tears filled her eyes at the hopelessness of it all. What if she was making a terrible mistake and placing Matthew in even more dangerous circumstances? She could’ve easily been injured far worse—killed. Then what would happen to her son?
Before she’d realized what was happening, Adair knelt beside her, obviously sensing how much the conversation had worried her. He gently took her hand in his. The awkwardness in his manner was oddly touching, as though he wasn’t used to playing the role of comforter. “I am sorry if I’ve upset you. That wasn’t my intent. It sounds as if the past year has been filled with more trials than anyone should have to withstand. Are you certain there’s no one who might aid you?”
Grace shook her head. Of that she had no doubt.
“Please don’t think me overly forward, but from the short time I have come to know you and your son, it’s obvious that you’re a wonderful mother.”
Tristan couldn’t bear the tears filling her dark eyes, making them glitter. Especially as he knew he was the cause of them as he’d upset her with his questions. The longing to make her smile, to be the one who made her face light with joy pierced him, unfamiliar yet impossible to ignore.
“What makes you say that?” she asked, her gaze meeting his. “After all I’ve told you, I would think you’d believe the opposite.”
“Matthew adores you. He is gentle and affectionate with you and enjoys your company above all else. That tells me far more than anything you’ve said.”
The mention of her son brought a smile to her lips. “I love him very much.”
Whether it was the idea of someone hurting her or some well hidden protective streak within himself, he wanted to help her. But when he didn’t even know her true identity, how could he?
“You mentioned a title. I realize it’s none of my affair, but have you considered taking your place in Society as a way of protecting Matthew?”
A crease formed between her brows. “Charles would immediately know where we were. What purpose would that serve?”
“While it would be relatively easy for him to form plans that might harm Matthew in the country where few are around to take notice, London is a different place all together.”
She shifted, obviously uncomfortable at the idea. “I don’t see how. There are certainly more people in the city, but they’re all strangers.”
“Didn’t you and your husband ever attend a Season?”
“No. We went to London following our marriage for a brief stay, but after that, Daniel went alone several times each year.”
Daniel? Though he searched his memory, he couldn’t think of anyone he knew with that name. He was beginning to dislike her husband. From what little Tristan had learned, the man had wanted to keep his wife all to himself. Even if Tristan could understand his wish to do so, it didn’t speak well of Daniel.
“If you began attending events, even a few, people would soon know who you were. That many more eyes wou
ld be on you and Matthew. That would make it far more difficult for him to arrange for any sort of accident.”
“But if he came to stay with us—”
“Leave standing orders that he is not to be admitted to your home.”
Before he’d finished the sentence, she was shaking her head. “I wouldn’t know how to do all that.” Her eyes implored him to understand. “Before I met my husband, I was a vicar’s daughter and led a simple life. While I might have the title of viscountess, that isn’t who I truly am.”
Though she’d given him one more clue—viscountess—it didn’t help. Somewhere, over the past few days, her full name had ceased to matter. She was simply Grace.
The uncertainty and doubt etched in her features drew him. Unable to resist, he lifted his hand to brush a strand of hair from her cheek, the softness of both pleasing him. Desire took him by surprise and his breath along with it. She wasn’t his type at all, he reminded himself. Samantha was a far better match for him. They suited in all the areas that mattered.
Never mind that he’d never felt like this before, especially not with his fiancée.
Before he could consider what that might mean, she continued. “No. I’ll proceed with my plan. All will be well once I arrive at my cousin’s.”
Tristan nodded. Perhaps she was right. She knew her options better than he did. Her cousin probably had a nice home that would allow the lady and her son to enjoy some of the sights and activities in London yet keep them out of the ton.
“I hope you’ll stay as long as you like until you’re fully recovered.” As she started to argue, he shook his head. “It’s the least I can do, considering I am the reason you were injured.”
He’d never be able to explain to her how terrible that made him feel. Nothing was too much to try to make up for his orders to hurry in the rain that night.
“I hope you will contact me if you encounter any problems in London. I will be returning there soon after you as well.”
She lowered her lashes even as she nodded.
Rescuing the Earl (The Seven Curses of London Book 3) Page 4