“I am not your future bride, that’s how. My lord, nothing has changed. I will still not have you, and you still cannot have me. We shared a moment—a lovely moment, though we likely shouldn’t have done. I’m glad it can’t be undone.” Why had she admitted as much to him?
She pulled up her drawers and straightened her gown about her legs as she rose. “As I said before, you would do better to move on. Find yourself a suitable bride, a lady of good ton who has an intact reputation and does not need her reputation salvaged. Find someone other than me. I bid you good evening.”
She walked away from him, back to the ballroom, back to Aunt Dorothea, and back to life as she would always know it.
Without him.
Chapter Fifteen
Alex watched Grace walk away and fought the temptation to follow her. Ah, the cut direct. He would grant her this moment of victory. “But I shall see you at the altar, my dear.”
Her reputation would suffer even more for returning to the ballroom alone, but that would soon enough be repaired. Grace would be his wife. She just needed to understand she had no alternative.
His determination that she needed his protection grew stronger than ever. Since she had been compromised before coming to Somerton, word of her disgrace might already be all over London. For that matter, word could have spread to the furthest outreaches of England.
There was no time to waste. He needed to act, and quickly.
Since he already planned to travel to London with Gil in the morning, he decided to continue with that course of action. He would visit with the Marquess of Chatham and explain the situation—short of some of the more sordid details of their encounter. But he must make it clear she had been compromised, and he intended to do the honorable thing and marry her.
Alex needed to convince the marquess that a marriage to him was the best option.
Convincing Grace could come later.
He would obtain a special license in London. Maybe Peter could do that for him. Alex had no idea how difficult it might be to convince Chatham that he was the man his daughter should marry. Sir Laurence had divulged little in their interview, but he got the impression that he did not think highly of Chatham.
Alex quit the Assembly Room without looking back. He needed to prepare for the morning’s journey and to think.
~ * ~
The road to London was difficult. The entire southern part of the English countryside was experiencing a torrential downpour during the three days Alex and Gil spent traveling. Several times their carriage became stuck in muddy ruts, so he had to assist the driver and footmen to free a wheel in the rain. He felt like a blasted pig that had gleefully rolled around in the sty.
On top of that, Gil’s illness continued to grow worse. His coughing fits were more frequent and more severe, and Alex often saw spots of blood on the viscount’s handkerchief. There could be no more denials. He was certain his friend suffered from consumption.
All the more reason he wished Gil would have stayed in Somerset. Whether in Bath or in Somerton, Gil would not be on the road to London and fighting his sickness in a cold, wet, cramped carriage.
Alex worried.
He worried that the viscount would not make it back to his beloved Roundstone Park. He worried that the Marquess of Chatham would not see things his way. He worried that he had left Grace with child. Not that he would not want a child with Grace. But there were already too many things making her life difficult.
If the marquess were to deny him…Alex shuddered. He must find a way to marry her. Someway, somehow, he would marry her. He would drag the chit to Gretna Green against her father’s wishes if he had to, but she would be his wife. He wondered if he ought to have just taken Sir Laurence’s advice to begin with, if perhaps the man had been trying to convey more to him than his words implied.
But wondering would not solve anything. He must follow through with his plan as he had it formulated.
He would not leave her with her reputation in its current state.
Travel seemed interminable. After three dreadfully long days, they arrived in London. Alex had sent a letter ahead to Peter once he decided to travel, informing his family of their impending arrival. He did not disclose his reason for the visit, just that they were coming. He wanted a room prepared for Gil.
The viscount’s crested carriage rolled through the streets as Gil slept and Alex nursed his thoughts. They entered Mayfair well past dark, when most of society would be taking part in balls or routs, and other sorts of entertainments. Their presence went largely unnoticed.
Rotheby’s driver pulled his carriage onto Grosvenor Square and stopped in front of Number Three, Hardwicke House. Alex never felt so relieved to be home as he did at that moment. He shook his friend awake. “Gil. We have arrived. Let us go inside.”
A footman opened the door and let down the stairs as Spenser, the butler of Hardwicke House, opened the doors to the mansion Alex considered home.
Alex climbed down from his perch before he assisted Gil down the steps. He half-carried the older man inside.
“Welcome home, Lord Alexander. Shall I show you to the room I have prepared for Lord Rotheby?” Spenser executed a very brief bow, obviously understanding the urgency of seeing the viscount settled.
“Yes, Spencer, that would be splendid.”
Alex followed the butler through the halls of Hardwicke House, plagued by nostalgia. He had lived in another world for the last few weeks, it seemed, as he had scarcely thought of his family and their lives in London. He rarely even thought of Priscilla and Harry.
It all rushed back to him now as he saw the paintings on the walls and the usual signs of life in their home. Scraps of his sisters’ embroidery were tossed willy-nilly on tables and chairs in the morning parlor, Alex noted, and ledgers were strewn across the desk in Peter’s library…the library he usually kept impeccably neat and tidy, with nary a speck of dust or a book out of place.
Spenser paused before the door to the emerald suite as they waited for a liveried footman to open the doors. Alex had requested this particular suite for the viscount in his letter, as it would not require climbing a flight of stairs and it tended to stay rather warm at night. He wanted Gil to be as comfortable as possible.
He aided the viscount into an armchair to sit. More footmen followed them into the room, unloading Rotheby’s trunks from the carriage and setting them out for his use.
“My lords, I have assigned Percy to operate as his lordship’s valet while you are in residence. If, of course, this will suit.”
Alex glanced over to the man who waited to assist. He remembered Percy had been in the military before coming to Hardwicke House, and would likely have seen to the wounds of a number of his fellow soldiers during those days. He made a mental note to commend both Peter and Spenser on the selection. Gil would need a good deal of supervision, and perhaps medical attention, during their stay.
Gil coughed violently again and red droplets stained his handkerchief. “Percy will be fine, Spenser,” he rasped out after the fit ceased. The butler nodded and took his leave as Gil turned to Alex. “I shall be quite well tonight, old man. Off with you. Go see your family.” He flicked his hands and shooed him on his way.
“I will leave…but with strict orders to Percy that I am to be informed immediately should you need anything, Gil. You are a guest here. Remember that.”
Alex made a pathetic attempt at a lighthearted laugh, which came out more like a wheeze, and then left the room.
Gil was right. He needed to see his family, to speak with his brother. They must learn the reason they had traveled all the way from Bath on such short notice. He knew that they would support his efforts. If needed, Peter would add his weight to the discussion with Chatham. That was simply how the Hardwicke family operated.
Alex did not want Peter’s assistance so much as he wanted his support. He was a grown man, and needed to find his own way in the world. This was after all the primary reason he had gone to Some
rton that spring. Taking care of these matters on his own would be at least one step in the right direction. Come to think of it, a marriage to Lady Grace Abernathy would be a step toward finding the meaning for his life as well.
But none of this was enough if he did not handle it on his own. He could not spend his life running to his brother for help every time something did not go his way.
In the hall, he found the butler giving instructions to some of the household servants. He waited until they moved on about their business.
“Spenser, are any of my family at home this evening, or are they all out?” Now that he was home, he realized how much he missed his mother and his siblings. Alex hoped at least some of them were at home.
“My lord, I believe Lady Charlotte is above stairs with her governess, and the Marquess of Grovesend and Lady Sarah are in the nursery.” Alex brightened at the news. “His grace has accompanied her grace and Lady Sophia to a ball at Monahan Park this evening. They shall not return until quite late, though I am sure His Grace would be glad to see you.”
“Excellent, Spenser. Please inform me when the rest of my family arrives. I should like to visit with them all this evening.” He strode to the closest stairwell and took the stairs two at a time in anticipation of seeing some of the people he loved most. At some point, soon, he would need to visit Priscilla and discuss matters with her. But he needed to begin with his family.
He started in the nursery, where the door opened wide at the sound of his exuberant knocks.
“I declare, Lady Charlotte, His Grace your brother will be most highly displeased at your deportment this evening when he hears about this, and yes ma’am that was a when, not an if.”
Mrs. Pratt, a middle-aged woman in a serviceable, light green cotton dress opened the door. “I daresay a single rap at the door would have been more than sufficient.” Annoyance flickered across her face. The vexation fled as soon as she saw Alex instead of the expected Lady Charlotte.
“Why lord-a-mercy, Lord Alexander, I do apologize for my harsh words. You are a sight for these sore eyes, to be sure.”
She reached up and patted his grinning cheek before giving in to the temptation and planting a kiss where her hand had just been. “I know you have not been gone for so terribly long, but I have certainly missed you. Come in, come in here.” She swept the door wide and ushered him through it. “Children, your Uncle Alex has come home!”
As he stepped into the nursery, his niece and nephew flung themselves at him, each grasping a leg. Joseph, the young Marquess of Grovesend, attempted to climb up a leg and into his strong arms. “Uncle Alex! You have been away too long.”
Young Sarah pouted and gazed up at him with wide, sad eyes. The poor, slighted little one. He could not resist her pouts, and she knew it. She often took advantage of his good nature by wheedling him until he gave in to her current demand.
He stooped closer to the children’s level and pulled them both in for a hug. “I am sorry, Sarah. What shall be my punishment?”
She needed only a moment for her decision. The three-year-old heartbreaker-in-the-making with her large green eyes and strawberry blonde curls tackled him to the floor and left a peal of giggles in her aftermath. Not to be left out, Joshua took a leap and landed on top of the two. He barely missed Alex’s head with his foot. Alex rolled over and pulled the children beneath him, then up above him, always careful not to crush them with his weight.
Mrs. Pratt looked on in mock horror. “Lord Alexander, you have certainly managed to rile these children up now. It is nearly their bedtime as well.” She shook her head and uttered a “tsk” under her breath as she walked through the nursery and picked up after the children. “I cannot imagine where you acquired the idea such conduct is acceptable.” She placed a doll into place on the bed by the window covered with lacy hangings, where Lady Sarah could easily find it when she settled in for the night.
Alex laughed out loud. “Do you claim no hand in teaching me manners then, Mrs. Pratt? Dear me, I must be an utter boor, a scamp of unequaled measure, if you of all people shall disown me.”
He rose from his spot on the floor beneath the children, lifting them as they squirmed for freedom. “Off you go, little angel.” He passed his niece to the waiting nanny, who procured the girl’s nightgown. Alex tossed Joshua over his shoulder and carried him to an adjoining dressing room to assist him in dressing for bed.
“Uncle Alex! I do not want to go to bed,” Joshua complained as a yawn escaped. “I am not tired. I shall not sleep a wink tonight.”
Alex set him on his feet and stripped the shirt over the boy’s head. The five-and-a-half year old marquess’s eyes drooped, though he struggled to keep them open.
“No, I am sure you will not sleep, Josh. But you must pretend to sleep for Sarah’s sake. She will follow your example.” Joshua’s lower lip stuck out in protest. “If you fight sleep, she will also, and then what will happen?” Alex pulled a nightshirt over the boy’s head.
“Sarah will whine and cry and act like a baby all day tomorrow. But why must,” Joshua paused as another loud yawn fought free, “why must I be punished for something she will do?” Fully dressed for bed, Josh returned to the nursery hand-in-hand with his uncle.
He squeezed the boy’s hand. “Alas, Joshua, it happens with all older brothers of younger sisters. We must always do the things that are best for our sisters, even when they are distasteful for ourselves.”
Josh continued to pout, though with less intensity.
“Your father and I, and Uncle Richard, and Uncle Neil…we all do the things that are best for Aunt Sophie and Aunt Char, do we not? Even when those things are unpleasant?”
Alex led his nephew to bed, pulled down the bed covers, and placed him inside. The little boy nodded his head, but looked unconvinced. “That is part of being a gentleman, Josh. We must always care for our sisters.”
He patted the boy’s head before moving to Sarah’s bed to kiss her forehead. “Good night, my sweet cherub.”
“Good night, Uncle Alex. You will be here in the morning? You are not leaving again?” Sarah could not hide the worry from her eyes.
“No love, I will not leave again so soon. You shall see me in the morning.” He tugged firmly on her blankets to be sure they tucked securely around her and then left the nursery.
Mrs. Pratt stopped him just before he got out the door. “My lord, Lady Charlotte will want to see you. I fear she has been quite distraught this Season. It vexes her to be stuck in the schoolroom with her governess.”
Alex was not surprised Mrs. Pratt would be concerned for his youngest sister. The woman had worked for the Hardwicke family since before he was born, and clucked about them all like a mother hen. As though they needed a second mother bustling about, interfering in their lives.
Char had just moved from the nursery to the schoolroom around the time Joshua joined the family, so Mrs. Pratt stayed on in her original post. Peter always said that she could keep her position as long as she saw fit. The Hardwicke siblings all loved the woman dearly.
“I was planning to stop in to see Char next, Mrs. Pratt.” He gave her a peck on the cheek, eliciting a low laugh. “You know, you are a beauty. Pratt is a lucky man indeed.”
Alex allowed her to bask in the glow of his flirtation and headed toward his youngest sister’s bedchamber. At this time of night, Char would doubtless have left the schoolroom. He could not imagine Miss Bentley would force her charge to keep at her studies so late.
He arrived at her room and knocked out a rhythm. A feminine squeal of euphoria emanated through the doorway and he braced himself for the impending assault. Char threw open the door and flung her arms about his neck.
“Alex! Oh, goodness I have missed you. It has been purely horrid here without you.” Her fair skin flushed with excitement as she babbled about nothing and everything. “Louisa Smythe had her come-out, and made quite the splash I understand. Theodora Marlborough, you know she hears all the best gossip from her eldest
sister, well she told me just the other day she expects Louisa to receive no fewer than five offers this Season, and I daresay she is right.”
Char drew Alex into her suite of rooms and onto a seat next to her on a well-used sofa while she continued to spurt information. “Mama insisted Peter accompany her and Sophie to all of the balls. She says he must make an effort to oversee their prospects, as you have abandoned the girls in their need and Richard is still abroad with the army. And Neil…well, you rather know he is not quite useful in any regard yet, so Mama lets him do as he will.”
She stopped to draw in a breath, having somehow made it through her entire speech without seeming to breathe. “So Neil goes to his gentleman’s clubs and has a grand old time, and Sophie and Peter attend all sorts of entertainments, and I have been dreadfully alone here, stuck in Hardwicke House with no one but the children and the servants for company. It has been beastly of them all, Alex, but I know if you were here, you would stay and entertain me occasionally, would you not?”
Alex imagined his sister in a few years’ time as she made her entrée. The ton would not know what hit them.
He smiled and attempted an answer, but Char interrupted before he could speak. “Oh, how inconsiderate I have been! Do you wish for something to eat? How was your travel? Is Lord Rotheby well? Have you had a good visit with him? What were you doing in Bath? Goodness, tell me everything.” She finally paused for him to speak.
“I doubt I can answer all of your questions at once, Char, but I shall try.” Alex loved Charlotte’s exuberance. He found it quite endearing, though he could understand how she might be off-putting to some.
“Lord Rotheby and I have had a wonderful visit in Somerton. We spent our time going about his estate and visiting with Sir Laurence and Lady Kensington. They have become his dearest friends close by.”
A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle Page 47