Her Secret Beau: A Touches 0f Austen Novel Bok 3

by Leenie Brown

“The end of summer,” Victoria said. “For both of us, according to Mr. Norman’s calculations.”

  “How exciting! You will have children who will be the same age. They will be such good friends, just as Mr. Shelton and Mr. Clayton are and how the two of you are as well.” They would no doubt spend a great deal of time visiting one another for Grace could not imagine Graeme and Roger being separated for too overly long a period of time.

  “It is a lovely thought,” Bea said. “And one which I hold close.”

  “It is wonderful, simply wonderful,” Grace said as she broke off a piece of her bun. “These are enormous,” she muttered.

  “And delicious,” Victoria added.

  Victoria was not wrong. Having tasted her first bite of a Sally Lunn, it was obvious to Grace why Walter liked them so well. In fact, it was he who had brought the delectable treats to them today. If she were to marry him, these delectable treats could be a frequent visitor to her table. She closed her eyes and savoured the taste of her bun and the thought of being Mrs. Blakesley.

  “This is quite the lovely sight.”

  Grace opened her eyes to see Mr. Blakesley standing before her.

  “Indeed, it is,” Roger agreed.

  Grace pulled her eyes away from Walter long enough to see that both Roger and Graeme had returned.

  “You may join us,” Grace offered. “There is plenty of this bun for sharing. I am certain I should not eat the full thing.”

  “And why should you not?” Walter did not wait to be convinced to take a seat next to her. He rather swiftly claimed the bit of ground to her right and accepted the portion of bun she gave him. “They are delicious.”

  “Oh, indeed, they are,” Grace assured him. “However, if I were to eat an entire bun every day – as I quite wish to do – I would have to be rolled through the garden since I would likely grow very round.”

  The responding laughter from Walter was delightfully pleasing.

  “You are sounding a bit like Mr. Norman,” he cautioned.

  “How so?” Grace asked.

  “He is forever telling me that I should not indulge in these as often as I do.” He popped a second morsel of the sweet roll into his mouth.

  Warmth spread across Grace’s cheeks as she envied the fingers from which he kissed away every trace of bun. That was most improper. She focused her eyes on the bun she held. “Do you eat them very often then?”

  “As often as I can, which is nearly every day.”

  “The whole thing? Every day?” How did he not grow fat? Her mother had always scolded that indulging in sweets of any sort rather than vegetables and meat only lead to being fat and gouty.

  He nodded as his fortunate fingers once again were kissed free of any morsels of sweetness. “That is why I walk far more often than I ride, and why I have taken up pugilism. Exercise balances the indulgence – or so Mr. Norman assures me. Therefore, if you were to say, dance a set or two with me this evening, that should compensate for the extravagance of this treat.”

  “I cannot dance with you.” As much as she would like to do just that.

  “One dance would not cause any stir. Your mother knows we are acquainted. In fact, to not dance with you would seem suspiciously rude.”

  “He has a point,” Roger inserted.

  “But my sister –”

  “Will never pose an issue,” Walter said.

  “You do not know that,” Grace argued.

  “I think I do.” He held her gaze most intently.

  Oh, she wanted to dance with him! She truly did. She also wanted to believe that Felicity would never come between them, but at present, she was not certain she could trust her sister at all. Why just think of how Felicity had treated her!

  “Trust me,” he whispered. “Please.”

  “One set?” How could she refuse him when he looked so desirous of her granting him his wish?

  He nodded.

  “Not the first. That one should really go to Mr. Norman if he is there.”

  “Does that mean I may have one of the other sets?” Pleasure danced in his eyes.

  “Yes, but only one set and only as a friend of a friend.”

  “If that is how you wish it to be. I will remind you, however, that your sister will never sway me to pay her any particular attention.”

  “I cannot trust her,” Grace said softly.

  “You do not have to. You need only trust me.”

  “One set,” she replied. “We would not wish for your lady in Kent to hear of more than that and become jealous.”

  He chuckled. “She has no need to fear being made jealous.”

  “Right, well,” Graeme interrupted. “If we are to get to the Assembly Rooms at all today, we must finish our walk and make certain these ladies have had ample time to rest and recover before preparing for a ball.”

  “Which is no small feat,” Roger agreed with a laugh.

  “Are you ready to go on?” Grace whispered to Bea who was on her left.

  “Has she been unwell?” Graeme asked.

  “No, no,” Grace rushed to assure him. “She was a bit tired and… hungry,” she added after taking note of Bea’s half-eaten bun.

  “Are you certain?” Graeme asked.

  Grace nodded vigorously as Bea assured her husband that she was well. There was no way Grace wanted to miss either that dance with Walter or the dinner party which had been cunningly arranged so that she could see his townhouse.

  “There are rooms at my home just waiting to be filled,” Walter said as he rose and extended his hand to Grace. “The maids will be perfectly put out if they went to the bother to prepare them, and then they are not used. And Norman will be joining us later if there is a need for any tonics or tinctures. Although,” he continued as he helped Grace to her feet and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, “I have some peppermint leaves from which we can make a tea – not too strong, mind you – and then when it is cooled, you can try it for any relief it might impart. Or I have some oil which you can use for a headache.”

  Roger chuckled. “You sound very little like a bachelor, and more like a mother hen.”

  “Ah, the dangers of having Mr. Norman for a friend, I am afraid,” Walter answered with a laugh. “I have learned much from him – some of it willingly even.” Again, he laughed. “In all seriousness, a gentleman could not find a better friend than Norman.” He glanced down at Grace. “Unless, of course, he gets two sets while I only have one.”

  “I must make a show of being enamoured with him,” Grace argued. That was the crux of the plan. She was to pretend to wish for Mr. Norman’s attentions while in truth it was Mr. Blakesley who was her true beau.

  “I do not believe you do.”

  Grace sighed. “But that is the plan.”

  “Plans can change,” Walter retorted.

  “I know they can,” Grace agreed. And she knew that someday her plan would need to change, but today was not that day, no matter how much Mr. Blakesley argued it should be. While she might be able to trust him, Felicity, the reason for the plan in the first place, was another matter altogether.

  Chapter 12

  “This is it,” Walter said as Graeme’s carriage drew to a stop in front of a town house in the middle of a row of houses standing on the eastern side of a square. “It is not overly grand,” he said as he stood on the walkway that crossed over to the door. “However, it is of ample size for a small family.”

  “It is lovely,” Victoria said.

  “Yes, very,” Grace agreed.

  Walter could tell by the way she scanned the front of the building, tipping her head to see up it as high as possible, while smiling broadly, that she was duly impressed.

  “If you look below us, there is a small courtyard and some storage with an entrance to the servants’ quarters, as well as the kitchen and such.”

  “How do they get down there to enter?” Grace asked.

  “There is a true entry at the rear of the house. I suppose I should have more
accurately stated that there is an exit from the servants’ quarters for access to the courtyard and storage.”

  “Ah,” she said with a nod of her head as she continued to look at the courtyard and then once again moved her gaze to the façade of the house. “It is not very old, is it?”

  He shook his head. “No, it not much older than you.”

  “Indeed? Is it very modern within?”

  “I shall let you determine that.” He waved his hand toward the door which stood, waiting for them to enter. He smiled at her exclamation upon entering just ahead of him.

  “I believe she likes it,” Graeme muttered behind him.

  “I would say you are correct.” And Walter was as delighted by that fact as Grace was by the flooring and the second door that separated the foyer from the interior of the house. He had hoped she would like his house, for he was beginning to hope quite seriously that it would one day also be hers.

  They passed through the second door and stood in front of the staircase with two doors to the right of them and a third past the staircase and down the hall. It was through this door that a footman was disappearing with the various articles of outerwear he had gathered from Walter’s guest.

  “Your maid will be given what she needs,” he said softly to Grace who was watching the footman.

  “Oh, I have no doubt of that.”

  The smile she turned on him caused him to forget for a moment what he had intended to show them next. Thankfully, his mind did not fail him for long – only long enough for Roger to cough.

  It was all well and good for him to be laughing at Walter’s expense. The man was married and utterly besotted with his wife. It was not as if Walter was acting the part of a smitten swain on his own. It was just that he did not have the assurance that the object of his affection would always be at his side as both Roger and Graeme did.

  He raised an eyebrow and gave Roger a challenging look that was met with a smirk and a nod of acceptance. Both of the men with him knew how important this evening was to Walter. He had made certain they knew on their walk to the tailor.

  “Through here,” Walter opened the first door to his right, “we have the dining room. You may peek in, but since we will be spending time there later, there really is no need to enter. We do not wish to be underfoot,” he added.

  Within, one maid was using a small brush to sweep the chairs while another was placing a cloth on a table that stood near the table and would receive many of the serving utensils.

  “And this door,” he had moved to the second door which was only separated from the first by the space of a wall, “leads to my study.” He stepped inside and the others followed.

  “It is as organized as I would have expected,” Roger said. “Blakesley was not the sort to ever have anything out of place in his lodgings,” he explained. “You could ask him for anything and within a few moments, he would have it for you for he knew just where it should be.”

  “That seems like an excellent way to be,” Bea said.

  “Clayton and Shelton were also fairly well organized. Clayton more so than Shelton.”

  “I could see that,” Grace said.

  “You could?” Roger said.

  Grace nodded. “You are a trifle more carefree than Mr. Clayton. He is not stodgy, mind you, but he does have a more fatherly air about him.” She shrugged. “Or so it seemed to me when I was at Heathcote, but then, I might just be thinking so from the way he was always scolding his brother and asking after Bea’s wellbeing.”

  “My brother is an idiot,” Graeme retorted. “If he were not, there would be no need to scold.”

  “I do not find him to be an idiot,” Grace retorted and then shrugged. “If I did, I would also have to call myself one since I was just as duped as he was by my sister, and frankly, I do not wish to even think that word about myself. I will allow that we were both foolish.”

  “I did not mean to imply that you were an idiot,” Graeme apologized. “But trust me, there have been many things over the years which Everett has done to earn the moniker.”

  “That is because he is your brother,” Bea inserted. “To the rest of us, he is not so bad as he is to you.”

  “He treated you very ill,” Graeme retorted.

  “And look where that has led,” Roger said.

  And that one statement was all that was needed to silence Graeme about the idiocy of his brother. In fact, much to Walter’s amusement, before they had left the study, Graeme had begun to think that perhaps his brother’s lack of sense was one of his best qualities.

  “Has anyone asked you about the picture on our desk yet?” Grace asked as they climbed the stairs to the first floor.

  She had stood behind his desk, picked up the framed silhouette he had drawn, smiled her secret smile at it and then him, and then returned it to its place.

  “Not yet,” he replied. “I only just got it back with the frame yesterday. I have not yet had time to have anyone ask.”

  “Are we not stopping on this floor?” she asked when he turned toward the second flight of stairs.

  “We will return to it.”

  She stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked at him as if that was the most foolish thing she had ever heard.

  “The drawing room and billiards room is on this floor. We will return to it after I have seen you settled in your accommodations.”

  Her brow furrowed and her lips puckered with displeasure.

  “I promise.”

  “Very well,” she said with a small huff. “But I am a curious creature.”

  “As am I,” he assured her when she had reached the step on which he stood. “This next floor is mine. There is my bedchamber, a sitting room, and a dressing room. Do you wish to see it?”

  “I think we can do without,” Graeme said.

  Walter chuckled. Grace was correct about Graeme having a fatherly air about him. “I assure you I have no intention of doing more than showing the rooms to Miss Grace.” That lady gasped, while Roger chuckled, and Graeme cleared his throat and glared at Walter.

  “Our rooms?” Graeme said.

  “Are on the next floor. There are two rooms of substantial size and two smaller rooms. I have instructed that the larger rooms be readied for you and Shelton, while one of the smaller rooms has been made ready for Miss Grace.” He opened doors and assigned people to each room. Then, he made to leave them. “I will be in the drawing room or my study if you should need me.”

  Grace turned to enter her room, but not before sharing one more of her secret smiles with him. If he had deduced things correctly, Grace would not be long in finding her way to the drawing room which she had not been allowed to see.

  And he was not wrong. No more than twenty minutes later, Grace stepped quietly into the drawing room. Alone.

  He discarded the book he had been reading. “We have no chaperone,” he cautioned.

  “Am I not to trust you?” Her eyes danced with impertinence.

  “I had hoped you would, but you seem hesitant to do so.”

  Her mouth popped open and then closed as her brow furrowed. “Do you mean about our scheme and not just now?”

  “I do.” He rose and motioned toward the windows. “The view of the park is excellent from here.”

  The comment drew her across the room to him.

  “Oh, it is!”

  “Those trees will one day be much larger, but there are several different specimens which add to the beauty of the autumn when the leaves show all their glory.” He stood directly behind her. Almost of their own accord, his arms wrapped around her.

  It was almost of their own accord because he had paused for a fraction of a moment to consider the action before undertaking it. True, it had not been long enough of a pause to consider much more than how wonderful it would be to hold her. To his delight, she did not jump or squeal, but instead, sighed and leaned back against him.

  “This is not proper,” she said.

  “Indeed, it is not, and I am risk
ing the ire of Clayton.”

  She nodded.

  “He might even force me to offer for you if we are found thusly.” He was not sure if his caution was for her or his own mind, which had begun to wonder how her neck might taste.

  “What would you do if he did?” The question was barely more than a whisper.

  “I would offer for you now, rather than later.” He felt her sharp intake of breath. “I have come to the conclusion that I should very much like to offer for you at some point if you will allow it.” His heart hammered against his ribs as if it was asking to be freed from the confines of his body. This was not part of how he had planned this evening to go. He was rushing forward when he should be holding back and giving her time to come to trust him enough to be seen with him in public without the ruse of being merely a friend before making any sort of offer. He swallowed and, despite his trepidation, pressed on. “Do I have a hope of ever being allowed?”

  Her hands covered his where they were clasped against her stomach. She rubbed them gently as the silence following his question grew longer. Finally, she spoke.

  “I want to say yes.”

  His heart sank. She was rejecting him.

  “However, I am not certain.” She turned in his arms to look at him. “I have only just learned what love is. I had not thought it so all-consuming as it appears to be.” She tilted her head. “Could I give up my happiness for yours?” She shrugged. “I should like to think so, but…” She shook her head.

  “You are uncertain?”

  She nodded. “And I would hate myself forever if I were to promise you my heart only to discover later that I was mistaken.” Her eyes glistened. “I have seen the harm such a thing can do, and I could never harm you in such a fashion.”

  His heart thrilled at her admission. She was not rejecting him out of hand. In fact, her words proved that, unbeknownst to her, she was well on her way to being in love with him. He ran the back of his right hand along her jaw, and then passed a finger over her tempting lips. How he long to kiss them! However, they were not his to claim just yet.

  “Then, I suppose we should not be caught standing as we are, for I would not wish to be the cause of your unhappiness.” He passed his finger over her lips once more before pressing a kiss to her forehead and then releasing her before he allowed himself to do more.