Lord Grayson gave her a puzzled look. “Are you sure you are unhurt, my dear?”
“I am fine,” Grace assured him. Her life had turned completely upside down in the past day, but she could divulge only so much information.
He patted her shoulder. “I am relieved to know you are well, but I must admit to my curiosity. Where have you been all day, Grace?”
She avoided Mary’s eyes and focused on Lord Grayson. “I was with a friend.”
“What friend?” Mary demanded, her voice rising in anger.
Grace placed her hand over his. “May I speak with you privately, Reginald?”
“Yes, of course.” He turned pointedly to Mary. “If you would please excuse us, Mrs. Sutton.”
Mary huffed in indignation and stalked from the room.
He turned back to her with a questioning expression and squeezed her hand. “I have the most dreadful feeling I am not going to like what I am about to hear.”
Grace took a deep breath. “I fear you are correct, Reginald.” Pausing, she gazed into his kind eyes. As nice as he was, she might have found a kind of peace with him. They might have led a very pleasant life together. Had she not met Phillip. Again. After the day she had spent in his bed, there was no possibility of her settling for Reginald. It would spell misery for both of them, for in her heart she would always want to be with the man she loved. Phillip.
Grace took a deep breath before the words spilled out. “I am very sorry, but I cannot marry you after all.”
He looked away from her, as if he could not bear to see her face. Grace felt sick, even though she knew she was making the right decision. As much as she longed to be with Phillip, Reginald needed to be with a woman who loved him in return.
“That is what I feared.” He turned back to face her. “May I ask why you have changed your mind about becoming my wife? Has it anything to do with who you were with today?”
“Yes,” she paused, considering just how much to share with him. “I have discovered that I am in love with someone else.”
The expression on his face looked as if someone had punched him in the stomach and his lips made a tight line. “I see.” He pulled his hand away from hers.
Grace could not meet his eyes. “I am sorry.”
“Is it Lord Radcliffe?” he asked.
She nodded her head. “How did you know?”
“Your mother-in-law mentioned that you were . . . lingering with him on the steps last night. How can this be, Grace? You only just met the man.” His words were tinged with a hint of anger.
“Yes, I know,” Grace attempted to explain. “It seems rather sudden, but I assure that our feelings are true and that—”
“Your feelings?” Lord Grayson rose from the sofa and began to pace back and forth in front of her. “It seems you have not considered anyone’s feelings in this situation but your own, Grace. My feelings were not something you thought of. We announced our engagement to everyone. You have now publicly humiliated me with this Radcliffe man. I am the seventh Earl of Grayson. How can I face anyone, knowing my fiancée has jilted me for another man? How can I hold up my head?”
Tears stung behind her eyes and she blinked. Oh, he was taking this much worse than she had expected. “I am very sorry, Reginald. I did not intend to hurt you or humiliate you—”
“Did you not spend the entire day with this man, unchaperoned?”
She opened her mouth but nothing came out.
“Did you not sit here in this very room two nights ago and promise to become my wife?” His angry words echoed through the parlor.
“I—” she began again, but he would not let her speak.
“Did you not kiss me and plan a December wedding while sitting exactly where you are now?”
“Yes, I did, but—”
“You break your promises too easily, Grace. You have humiliated me and proven yourself to be a woman of loose morals and low character. I am well rid of you. Goodnight.” He turned and stalked from the parlor.
Grace covered her face with her hands. No, he had not taken it well at all. But at least it was done now. Her heart ached for him and she felt wretched about breaking her promise. But how could she explain that she had met the vampire she loved one hundred years ago and was now going to become one herself so they could be together forever? She shook her head and a hysterical laugh bubbled within her. No, he was quite right. He was well rid of her.
She rose and wrung her hands together. She still had Mary to deal with. But not now. It had been an overwhelming and exhausting day and Mary could wait until morning. Grateful that her mother-in-law was nowhere to be seen, she made her way up the main staircase to her bedroom, longing for a hot bath and some quiet and solitude. Grace opened the door of her bedroom and froze at the sight.
Good heavens! Her neat and orderly room was a shambles! Everything had been searched. Her wardrobe was wide open and articles of her clothing were strewn about the floor. Every drawer was open and upended. Her elegant writing desk had been turned upside down. Every memento and keepsake of her life had been touched, moved, pawed through.
And worst of all, Mary Sutton sat in the overstuffed armchair in the middle of her room with her wire spectacles perched on her nose. Grace’s dream journal was in her hands.
Mary sneered, her round face a study in disgust. She held up the leather-bound journal as if it contained all the world’s sins. “It is no wonder my poor son hung himself to get away from you.”
Covering her chest with her hands, Grace gasped, not only at the outrageous invasion of her privacy, but also at the pure venom in the woman’s words.
“How dare you say such a thing to me!” Grace cried, furious at being blamed for Henry’s death.
Ever since that horrific day, Mary had not so subtly been hinting that Grace was the reason Henry had taken his life. Not that Grace needed more cause for grief, for she had tortured herself many a night worrying that she had inadvertently done something to make her young husband end his life. A good enough reason never surfaced, whether real or perceived, to rationalize what he had done, not only to himself, but also to her and their life together. After burying herself in sorrow for years and allowing her mother-in-law to punish her for something she had not done, Grace had finally begun to grow angry over the situation.
She was angry with Henry for being utterly selfish and for leaving her alone. Angry at Mary for forcing her to lie to everyone about how Henry had died and for making her feel responsible for his death. And most of all, angry with herself for allowing the situation to come to this.
Now to have Mary fling such hateful words at her and to see her private, intimate dreams and thoughts in the hands of her mother-in-law was more than Grace could bear. She wasn’t sure if the change in her was due to spending the day with Phillip or knowing that she was about to permanently remove herself from this life that she could finally stand up for herself.
“Oh,” Mary hissed coldly, “I have every right to dare, since what you do in my house reflects on me!”
Something in Grace finally snapped. “This is my house. Henry left it to me. What I do in my house is my business. It is only by my generosity that I allow you to stay here!”
Mary’s face turned almost purple with outrage and a rush of triumph flooded through Grace. It wasn’t often she left Mary speechless. They had never discussed the fact that the house belonged to Grace, because Grace had been too considerate and never wanted Henry’s mother to feel that she had to leave her home. But Grace wanted her to leave now. She never wanted to lay eyes on the woman again.
Mary sputtered some incoherent words before rising from the armchair and taking a step toward Grace. She still clutched the journal tightly in her hand. “I suppose this ugly behavior of yours has something to do with your disappearance today. You were with him all day, weren’t you?”
Grace did not care anymore. “As a matter of fact, I was.”
“After I expressly forbade you to see him?”
> “Yes.” Grace folded her arms across her chest. “I am going to marry him.”
“That’s what he says now, you stupid little fool, to get you into his bed. He’s not going to marry you. You just met him, for God’s sake! And you now have ruined your engagement with Lord Grayson.”
“I broke off my engagement with him before he left. I am marrying Lord Radcliffe within the week,” Grace declared boldly, surprising herself with her newfound assertiveness with Mary.
Mary nodded her head slowly as if she knew better. “Well, it is quite obvious to me what has happened to you. It is a good thing I have already sent for Doctor Vickers.”
Grace’s brows drew together in confusion. “Doctor Vickers?”
He was the family physician, but she had no idea why Mary would summon him here tonight. Grace had never liked the man. He always looked at her in a leering way that made her uncomfortable. She was thankful she was healthy and had no cause for his services, unlike Mary, who called on him several times a month for her various and vague illnesses.
“Yes. It is apparent that you are in need of professional help, Grace.”
Grace laughed at the absurdity of her assertion.
“I have been worried about you for some time,” Mary continued. “Your sleeplessness and waking at odd hours. Your ravings about wicked dreams and past lives in this journal. Your reckless behavior in disappearing today and spending time alone with Lord Radcliffe, a man you hardly know. And, of course, breaking an engagement to a well-respected and wealthy earl is clearly the action of an unbalanced mind.”
“An unbalanced mind?” Grace echoed in disbelief.
“Ah, Doctor Vickers.” Mary’s eyes moved behind Grace. “It was good of you to come right over. I’ve been so worried.”
Grace spun around to see the rather tall, broadshouldered, bearded, and bespectacled doctor standing in the doorway of her bedroom. He held a black leather medical bag in his hand. A chill of unease crept through her.
“Good evening, Mrs. Sutton.” He nodded his head in her direction, his eyes flickering over her. “Miss Grace.”
“It’s worse than I first thought, Doctor. Just look at her. Look at this room.” Mary waved her hand, indicating that Grace had created the terrible mess. “Grace has become completely irrational and her behavior quite reckless. She ran off in the pouring rain before dawn this morning, without telling a soul where she had gone. And as I suspected, she spent the entire day being seduced by an evil man she barely knows. Then this evening she broke her engagement with Lord Grayson. If that weren’t proof enough, there is this journal, full of lurid descriptions of sinful dreams and desires of another life she claims to have had.”
“The situation does seem rather worrisome.” His sharp eyes raked over Grace and she could not help but shiver. “It is most fortunate that you sent for me, Mrs. Sutton.”
Grace stared between the two of them. They thought she was insane. Suppressing a nervous laugh, she began to speak. “Doctor Vickers, please let me explain—”
“Now, now, Miss Grace. There is nothing to get upset about.” He stepped toward her more quickly than she thought a man of his size could move and placed his hand quite forcefully on her arm, compelling her to step backward. “Why don’t you have a seat in this chair and rest for a while?”
She stumbled and he practically pushed her into the armchair where Mary had first been seated.
“There is nothing wrong with me,” Grace protested, as panic began to grow within her. Something was happening and Mary had planned it.
Doctor Vickers loomed over her, peering closely. “Her eyes are quite dilated.” He set his black bag upon the small end table next to the chair and began rummaging through it. “Mrs. Sutton, may I ask you to leave us for a moment while I examine her?”
Mary smiled triumphantly at Grace. “Of course, Doctor.” She hurried from the room, closing the door behind her.
“Now, now, Miss Grace, there is nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about. I can take care of you.” He uncorked a small amber glass bottle filled with a dark liquid. “If you drink this, my dear, you will sleep tonight without those dreams troubling you.”
“I don’t wish to drink that. And I am not having troubling dreams.” She attempted to stand, but he easily pressed her back into the chair.
“You mean you deny all that Mrs. Sutton has claimed to be true?”
“Yes, I deny it!” she cried in indignation. “I am perfectly sane!”
He set the glass bottle upon the table next to his bag and took hold of her wrist. “Then you did not break your engagement with Lord Grayson this evening?” he asked in a calm tone, as he felt for her pulse.
Grace shook her head. “No, I did break it off with him, but—”
“Then you did not spend the day with another man when you know such an action would destroy your reputation forever?” he questioned, his eyes glittering shrewdly.
Grace felt her cheeks turn scarlet at the memory of all she had done that day with Phillip. She could not answer.
“I see from your lack of response that that accusation is also true.” Doctor Vickers flashed a sly grin, revealing crooked front teeth. “Your pulse is racing. And what about the erotic dreams, Grace? Do you deny writing about them as well?”
“I . . . I . . .” Mortification engulfed her completely and she regretted ever writing her private, intimate dreams in that blasted journal. “No, I do not deny it,” she murmured so low she barely heard her own voice.
“Do you believe you have lived another life?”
The ridiculousness of the statement sounded so glaring when he said it. Grace knew it to be true from the deepest depths of her soul, but did not know how to explain it in a rational way. She had lived and loved Phillip in another life, but she knew no one would believe her. She said nothing.
“I thought so,” he whispered.
His hand moved with deliberate slowness up the length of her arm and brushed lightly across her breasts, lingering there before placing his hand over her heart. She recoiled from his touch, pressing herself into the back of the chair.
“Yours are not the actions of a sane woman, Grace.”
No, perhaps they were not after all, she thought. Maybe she had gone insane. It would explain why she had agreed to let Lord Radcliffe change her into a vampire. All of what had happened to her in the past few days was crazy. Perhaps she had gone stark raving mad?
Releasing her, Doctor Vickers reached into his bag to grab some sort of instrument with a long wooden tube. “I’ll need you to unbutton your dress, Grace, so I can listen to your heart properly. Loosen the corset also,” he commanded coolly.
“There is no need for this,” she began. “I assure you, I am perfectly fine.”
“You are not fine,” he stated in a harsh tone, startling her. “Your pulse is rapid, your eyes are dilated, your cheeks are flushed, and you are overwrought. Now I insist upon listening to your heart. Would you rather I have Mrs. Sutton join us?”
Grace preferred to be humiliated without Mary looking on. The sooner she got the examination over with, the sooner the doctor would leave. Reluctantly she began to unfasten the buttons down the front of her green plaid gown, recalling that she had done the same thing in front of Phillip earlier today. Shame flooded her now, where it had not this morning when she had undressed for Phillip. Feeling Doctor Vickers’s eyes on her, she unbuttoned her gown to just below her chest, just enough to loosen the ties on her corset. She kept her hands poised to shove him away.
Without saying a word, the doctor leaned his head closer to her, placing the long wooden instrument against her chest and the other end of it to his ear. His face was entirely too close to her breasts as he listened for some time. His hot breath warmed her skin, yet made her shiver in disgust. She concentrated on the sound of the rain slapping against the window.
He raised his head and removed the medical instrument, yet kept his eyes on her. His expression was puzzled. “You have a
most irregular heartbeat.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, hurrying to button up her dress.
“It could mean a variety of things, but we would need more tests done in my surgery. I can examine you properly there. However, that is not what worries me now.”
“What is it?”
“Your behavior is not rational.”
“That is not for you to decide,” she said as she fastened the last button.
Suddenly the door opened and Mary entered, her sharp eyes taking in the situation. Grace was shocked to see Lord Grayson following behind her mother-in-law’s large figure.
“Reginald!” Grace exclaimed. He would not meet her eyes. Why had he come back? His departure earlier had seemed so final.
“Well, Doctor Vickers?” Mary questioned eagerly. “What is your professional opinion?”
“I think you were quite right in your assessment, Mrs. Sutton.”
Mary nodded her head in grim satisfaction. “As much as I hate to admit such a thing, I was afraid that might be the case. Lord Grayson has returned and would like to weigh in on the matter.”
Grace stared at the three of them. Weigh in on the matter? What was going on here? “There is nothing the matter. I am fine,” she stated yet again.
Lord Grayson focused all of his attention on Doctor Vickers, ignoring Grace completely. “I don’t know what to think, quite frankly. She seemed perfectly rational when she agreed to be my wife. I did not suspect her of being the flighty, impetuous type or I would not have asked her to marry me in the first place. You can imagine my surprise to learn of her scandalous behavior today, running around after a man she hardly knows, and my greater shock when she confessed to me that she is in love with this man and needed to break our engagement. After Mrs. Sutton revealed to me just now the lurid contents of her dream journal, I am terribly worried for Grace’s mental state. I care for her a great deal and I would hate to see her come to any harm. The change in her is dramatic and her behavior is not that of a sane woman.”
Doctor Vickers nodded his head. “Those were my thoughts exactly.”
Born to Bite Bundle Page 51