“That is enough, girls,” his mother said over the din. “Allow them to leave or they won’t be at an inn by dark.” She slid in to replace Sophie and placed a kiss on Grace’s cheek before whispering in her ear. Alex couldn’t hear his mother’s words, but watched as a wave of relief passed over Grace’s face. “Off you go, now. No more delay. Alex, if you mistreat that girl, I’ll have you horsewhipped.”
“Mama, I would put nothing past you.” The woman was capable of anything.
His sisters squeezed Grace into a tight hug full of giggles and squeals, eliciting a look of surprise and bewilderment on her face.
“Enough. We have to leave.” Alex reached into the sea of feminine affection and plucked Grace free. Peter and Neil ducked in to give her a quick peck on the cheek each, causing her to blush profusely. Good Lord, he needed to get a handle on himself or he would ravish her right there in the middle of the street. She looked entirely too lovely when she blushed.
He guided her up the steps of the carriage and followed her inside. She sat in the center of the bench facing front, leaving him no room to sit beside her. The driver placed the steps inside and closed the door behind him. After only a moment’s hesitation, Alex lifted Grace from her perch. He seated himself where she had been and pulled her down onto his lap, ignoring her indignant gasp, and then rapped against the carriage wall to signal they were ready.
He waved to his family as the carriage pulled away from Hardwicke House and took them toward Somerton. Toward home.
He held his squirming wife firmly in place and settled in for the two-day’s journey. Two more carriages pulled in behind them—one housing Priscilla and Harry, the other carrying their trunks and bags and other essentials. Life was beginning to look up, indeed.
~ * ~
She thought she’d made herself clear by taking up the center of the seat that she wanted him to sit across from her and not beside her. Grace was mortified when Alex sat her on his lap with his entire family watching. Of course, it was a closed carriage. But there were windows. They could see everything.
She struggled against him to free herself from his grasp, but his arms were bands about her and she couldn’t move. Once they were far enough away from Hardwicke House she was absolutely certain beyond any doubt they could no longer be seen or heard, Grace voiced her complaint.
“Unhand me, my lord.” She tried yet again to remove herself from his hold.
He tightened his grip instead of loosening it and didn’t speak until she was still. “My name is Alex.” His voice was soft. Too soft.
She twisted about to face him. “Fine. Unhand me, Alex.” Her voice held far more venom than she’d imagined herself capable of.
Instead of releasing her, he lifted her from his lap, slid over to one side of the bench, and sat her beside him. He kept a firm grip on her. Try as she might, she couldn’t break his hold to move to the other seat of the carriage.
Grace scooted as far away from him as possible, but their bodies still touched. It was like they were fused at the hip and thigh.
Alex sighed. “Have I offended you? Have I hurt you? Why are you so upset with me this morning, Grace? I can’t set something to rights if I don’t know what I’ve done.”
How could she explain to him that he was hurting her because he could never love her? That she was head over ears in love with him—far more in love than she thought healthy—and that his kindness and care, his protection, cut her to the core? Her love for him could only lead to her own heartache.
“No, you’ve done nothing wrong.” She couldn’t fault him for his lack of love for her. Even her own father had never loved her.
But his family, the Hardwickes, had accepted her without question. They had taken her in and made her one of their own. And now she was leaving them behind. Grace left a part of her heart behind with them. She could come to love them. They were rather unlike her, but that was certainly not a fault. The Hardwicke family loved each other and loved life. They were exuberant with their love.
But yet, to come from a family so full of love and life and excitement, somehow he couldn’t bring himself to love her. What was it about her that made her so very unlovable?
She resented that he would take her away from them so soon. And that he did not seem to like the idea of them coming to visit. His mother had whispered in her ear that they would come to visit sooner rather than later just before they departed. It was like the dowager could already read Grace’s thoughts, like they already knew her and everything about her and how she would be desperate to get to know them and spend time with them.
But now, she would be isolated once again.
Grace wondered if he would even stop her aunt and uncle from visiting, if he would keep her shut inside the house. He could, if he wanted to. It was a husband’s right, after all, to do with his wife as he pleased.
She pressed a hand against her abdomen. At least she would have this child. Children loved without question—their love was unconditional. Her baby would love her, even if no one else did.
Alex couldn’t take her child’s love from her too. She wouldn’t let him.
They traveled for a while in silence, each seething as they stared out their respective windows. He never loosened his hold on her but occasionally pulled her closer to him.
Then he turned to her. “One of the carriages behind us carries a woman and her son. She will serve as a nurse for our children.”
A woman? And her child? But no husband? Unless…
“You’ve hired your mistress to work in our home and raise my children.” A statement, not a question. “You’re allowing her to bring her child—your illegitimate child—into my home. To be raised next to my children.” The hurt tore through her. No wonder he would never love her. He already loved another—already had a child with another. She jabbed her elbow into his ribs as hard as she was capable.
He let out an “Oof!” and released her long enough that she escaped his grip and moved to the other side of the carriage.
“I realize I have no say in how you live your life, my lord, nor in the way you treat me. But really. There is little you could do to hurt me more, than to leave my bed to find that of your mistress.”
“Grace, wait—”
“No. No, I will not wait. I’ll say my piece. You have gotten it from me that I love you, and I can’t deny the truth any longer. I do. I love you more than I know what to do with, and I desperately wish I didn’t. But since I do, that gives you the power to destroy me.” She brushed her tears away with impatience. “Living under the same roof as the woman you prefer over me will do that. Please don’t ask it of me.”
“Grace—”
“Don’t do this. Don’t try to explain it away or make me feel better or anything else. Your honor deserves more, my lord.”
“That is enough!”
She flinched in her seat at his tone, and hated herself for cowering.
“She’s not my mistress, and he’s not my son.”
“Hmph.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to assume the same haughty air from only a couple of days before, but believed her fear showed through, nonetheless. Grace’s chin quivered, however firm she tried to hold it.
“I admit, I have willingly given that impression about Town, because it was easier that way. They were safer that way. But the fact remains, I’ve never touched Priscilla. We’ve never been involved in such a way.”
“If that’s true, then who is she? And why are you bringing her into our home?” And why on earth could he possibly want to give off such an impression if it wasn’t the truth.
“She’s a friend. I’m her protector. I don’t know what else to call our relationship. Several years ago, she was the Earl of Barrow’s mistress.”
Grace sucked in an abrupt breath, but bit her tongue to keep from speaking.
“He wasn’t a kind man to her, but she had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, so she stayed with him. Barrow was violent, and she feared wh
at he’d do to her if she tried to leave him. So she stayed. One time, Pris discovered she was pregnant. When she told him, he beat her until…until the baby was gone. Apparently, he didn’t want to have to support not only her, but a child as well. When she discovered she was with child again, she tried to hide it from him for as long as she could. She could only hide it for so long. Her belly rounded, and he knew. He beat her senseless and tossed her down a flight of stairs. Then he threw her out onto the street.”
“Oh my.” How horrible. Thank God she wasn’t married to him. How would she ever have survived it?
“Lord Sinclaire and I found her crumpled in a ball beneath a streetlight. We took her to my apartments and called a doctor to care for her. When she was well enough, she told us the whole of the story. I went after Barrow, but he’d left for the continent. When I came back, I promised Priscilla I would always care for her and her child, despite whatever else may happen in my life.” He paused and looked her full in the eye. “When I make a promise, Grace, I keep it.”
“Yes. I can see that you do.” The poor woman. If, of course, he was telling her the truth now. He could have simply fabricated the story as a lark, as a way to convince her to change her mind. She would reserve judgment for now.
They stopped to picnic for lunch. The dowager duchess had sent a basket of breads, fruits, meats, and cheeses with them. When the driver opened the door and set down the steps, Alex alighted and then lifted Grace to the ground, holding her close longer than necessary. She took in his scent again, mixed with that of spring sun and wildflowers.
From one of the other carriages, a young boy jumped down and rushed to her husband. “Awwiks! We passed a lot of twees and wivews and stweams. And Mommy said I can go wun about some after we eat and get wid of some of my enewgy because I’m bound to make her cwazy. Can I?” He paused only long enough to look over and see her. “Who awe you?”
But Grace’s attention was held rapt by the woman being helped down from the same carriage. A very tall, very strong footman lifted her down and set her gingerly on her feet, then reached inside the carriage and brought down a walking cane to place in her hands. She was really quite plain, yet something about her was very intriguing. Dull brown hair, a passable complexion, strong eyes. But not particularly beautiful. With the aid of her cane, she slowly walked toward them. While her gait was disturbed, she held herself with a proud bearing.
Had Barrow had been the cause of her affliction? Doubtless he was. Atrocious, evil man.
“Grace,” Alex said as the young woman drew near, interrupting her thoughts. “Might I introduce you to Miss Priscilla Bean and her son, Harry?” He took the woman’s outstretched hand and placed a very chaste kiss on her cheek.
Miss Bean started to curtsy, but Grace stayed her. “No, please. It’s unnecessary. Hello, Miss Bean. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Lor—Alex tells me you’ve agreed to be our nursemaid. I’m glad.”
Miss Bean smiled, and her face came alive. “Lady Alexander, I thank you.”
Harry ran in circles about them, occasionally tripping over his own feet and sending out a series of squeals. His mother grabbed onto him with one hand. “Harry, meet Alex’s wife. This is Lady Alexander.”
“Wady Awwiks. You are pwetty. Do you want me to catch you a fwog?”
His toothy grin melted her from the inside out. “Why, I’d love that, Harry.”
“Oh no. Oh, my lady, you oughtn’t to have agreed. He’ll do it!” Miss Bean’s eyes filled with mortification. “The next thing we know, he’ll have your beautiful traveling gown covered in mud and filth and you’ll have frog slime all over you.”
How delightful. Grace had never been covered in mud or frog slime before. She laughed aloud, an almost giddy sound. “I’m sure that will be quite all right.”
“You are.” Alex looked doubtful. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you anything short of perfectly put together, Grace. Are you sure you’re up for this? There’s nothing that can create a mess faster than a little boy. I should know. I was one.”
Grace nodded to him. “Oh yes. I think it would be lovely.” And she did. How very odd. “I was never allowed to play in mud or catch frogs.”
A look passed between Alex and Miss Bean.
“Well, my lady, I do believe Harry can give you all the mess you desire and then some. You two should get along quite well.”
“Shall we, Miss Bean?” Grace asked. “I think I’d like that. If you’re all right with it, of course. But I would love to spend some time with the two of you and go hunting worms and other such things. How will I ever know if I enjoy it if I don’t try it?”
Her husband’s only response was, “Indeed.”
Oh dear. What would he think of her? “And if it’s all right with you, as well, Alex.” She gave him a sheepish grin and hoped he would indulge her.
One of the outriders had laid a blanket on a soft patch of grass and arranged the basket’s contents for their consumption. Alex assisted Miss Bean to sit on the blanket with a wide, boyish grin on his face. “You’re welcome to do as you please, Grace. You need not seek my permission.”
How terribly irregular. A husband who would not insist on approving his wife’s activities? Of course, his entire family seemed to have different ideas on what is right and proper, so this shouldn’t require such a vast stretch of the imagination for it to make sense.
They sat and talked while they ate, with little Harry running about them in between moments of eating as fast as he could shovel food into his mouth. Grace was pleased to discover she enjoyed the company of Priscilla, as Miss Bean insisted on being called, and they had a great deal more in common than a shared past with Lord Barrow. They both did a good deal of stitching, both embroidery and sewing, and Priscilla was a watercolorist.
As they finished their meal, Priscilla struggled to her feet with Alex jumping to assist her before she waved him off. “If it’s all right, I’d like to stretch my legs before we continue.”
“Of course,” Alex readily agreed. “Take all the time you need. I’m in no hurry to climb back in that cramped carriage myself.”
“I believe there is a creek off through the trees over there. Harry and I will go explore.” She turned to her overactive son. “Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes! Yes, Momma. Hurry! I want to catch a fish.” He grabbed onto his mother’s free hand and pulled her along behind him as fast as her cane would allow.
Alex’s gaze turned serious again as the drivers and outriders packed away the remaining foodstuffs. “Grace, your father wants to come visit you in Somerton.”
Her head popped up and she returned his stare. “My father?”
“Yes. He wants to build a relationship with you.” He looked her full in the eye, a curious expression in his gaze. “I told him it would be your decision, of course.”
“My decision?” She couldn’t hide the confusion from her voice. She’d been granted very few choices in life. What would she do with one? How would she choose?
“If you want me to refuse him, I will. I know he’s not been very kind or loving to you.” He paused. “But he’s the only father you have. So if you want me to allow him to come and stay with us for a time, I will. You need only say the word.”
“I don’t know what I want.” She stood and walked a few paces away from the blanket. “Wouldn’t it be best for you to decide?”
He moved behind her and placed an arm casually around her waist. “No.” He leaned down and sniffed her hair as he pulled her in closer.
“No? Why not? I don’t understand.” Grace spun in his arms and stared up into his eyes. “You’re my husband. You ought to decide what’s best for me. What I want doesn’t matter.”
His eyes darkened to almost black.
“What you want doesn’t matter?” He moved away and pushed a hand through his hair, his voice strained. Alex paced for a moment before returning to the carriage. “We should move on. Get inside.”
His tone told he
r she ought not to cross him. She scurried over to where he stood and allowed him to assist her. She took the seat facing the rear and hoped he would take her hint this time. A glance through the open door told her that Priscilla and Harry were already nearing their carriage.
Alex climbed inside behind her and sat across from her. He reached over her head and rapped against the wall, and she flinched from his movements. The carriage lurched into motion.
She waited for the lecture she was sure would come. Grace had seen the same expression countless times before from her father.
And she braced herself for the beating which always followed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
She shrunk away from him when he reached over her head to alert the driver they were ready. Could Grace actually believe he would strike her? Alex was horrified. His wife thought him capable of hitting a woman. But his anger took precedence over any horror he might feel.
“Why,” he began, his words slow and soft, “is what you want unimportant, Grace? Why should I make decisions and force them upon you when you have a mind of your own?”
She started to answer him, but he hadn’t finished. “Why do you pull away from my touch?” His pitch escalated with each word. “Why do you flinch when I raise my hand, as though you expect me to—to beat you?”
He was near to yelling and she cowered in her seat, yet he continued. “And why, please tell me why, will you allow everyone to love you but me? Why Grace? What have I done?”
She stared at him, wide-eyed, but in anger, not fear.
“Allow them to love me? And just how do you propose I’ve allowed anyone to love me, yet somehow stopped you?” She appeared ready to pounce on him and scratch his eyes out like a cat.
“So you didn’t notice my entire family fawning over you then? And you don’t see how your aunt and uncle adore you?”
“That isn’t love.” Her chin trembled.
He slid across to her seat in a single, swift move. Alex leaned over her, towering above her, pinning her hands to her sides. “If it isn’t love, then what, pray tell, is it?”
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