Grace had never done anything so difficult in her life. Not even waiting for him that night at Hannah’s had been this hard. Or enduring her father’s wrath. Or being forced to leave her home, knowing she’d never be assured of a roof over her head again. None of these had required as much courage as it took to take that first step toward the man
waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. A man whose livid expression held more fury than she’d ever seen before.
Grace squared her shoulders and took a tentative step toward him. His gaze did not leave her, but held her in a grip so tight she feared she’d suffocate. This was not going to be easy. But not much of her life had been since her mother had died and she’d been left to raise her sisters and protect them from her father’s greed and disregard.
One step after another, she reached the bottom. She would face this problem the same as she had every other—head-on, and alone.
When she reached the foot of the staircase, she stepped past him and slowed, not sure what he wanted her to do. His hand touched her back and guided her to go to the left, to the room her brother-in-law used as a study. She lifted her chin and walked defiantly down the hall.
“I don’t think Wedgewood will mind us using his study to talk privately,” he said, throwing open the door. “I’m sure he’d prefer that we not publicly discuss what transpired between us where half of London society can overhear our conversation.”
Her face burned but she refused to be intimidated by his caustic remarks. “Yes, I’m sure he would.”
With her head held high, she swept past him and entered the room. The fireplace cast the only light in the wood-paneled room. Grace lit a taper from the flames and walked to light the lamp sitting on her brother-in-law’s desk. She prayed the man watching her didn’t notice how her hands trembled. Prayed he didn’t realize how frightened she was.
Prayed he didn’t notice her jump when the door slammed shut behind her.
Although her hand shook almost uncontrollably, she attempted to light a second lamp that sat on a small side table. She would light them all. The brightness would let him know she didn’t intend to hide in the shadows.
She nearly screamed when his hand touched hers and he took the taper from her.
“Let me.”
Grace stepped back to avoid being so close to him. She didn’t want to be reminded of his height or the width of his shoulders or how he fit so perfectly beside her.
“Do you want them all lit?” he said, lighting a third lamp and setting it on the corner of the desk.
“Yes.”
He turned his head and cast a glance over his shoulder. A mocking gaze locked with hers. “I seem to remember you preferred the darkness the last time we were together.”
Her breath caught. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
The look on his face turned dark, daunting. “You don’t deserve it to be easy.”
Grace stood before the fire and let the warmth seep into her. She knew there wasn’t a chill in the room, but she couldn’t stop her body from shaking. Couldn’t suppress the deep-rooted trembling that gripped her very soul.
One by one he lit the lamps, moving about the room with the stealth and wariness of a hunter stalking its prey. When he spoke, his voice startled her.
“Do you think we should begin by introducing ourselves?” he asked when he’d lit the last lamp and set it on a
table by the door. “I know after what we’ve shared, a formal introduction is hardly of much consequence, but—”
“Stop it!”
Grace reached out her hand and gripped the edge of the mantle. Every nerve in her body screamed from the tension that stretched between them. “Sarcasm will not erase what happened,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her. She faced him squarely. “I am the Marchioness of Wedgewood’s sister Grace.”
He frowned. “Your family name?”
“Warren.”
“Then your father would be…?”
“The Earl of Portsmont.”
“And you would be…
Lady
Grace.”
“Yes.”
“Bloody hell.”
He turned his back to her and stood behind Wedgewood’s mammoth desk, staring into the darkness beyond the terrace doors. His fingers clutched the door handle as if he were preparing to throw open the door and walk through hell itself if it took him away from her.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked without turning around to face her.
“No. But it’s not necessary that I know your name.”
He spun around and leveled her with the most intimidating look she’d ever seen. “Oh, it’s necessary, my lady. It’s very necessary. I am Vincent Germaine, Duke of Raeborn.”
Grace’s knees gave out beneath her. Raeborn. The Duke of Raeborn. She couldn’t believe Hannah had picked Raeborn to take her virginity. Even her secluded life in the country hadn’t prevented her from hearing about
the renowned Duke of Raeborn. She knew the important position he held in government. How influential he was not only as a political leader in the House, but also as an advisor to the queen on occasion. And she’d heard the sad tale of the two wives he’d lost in childbirth.
He took a step closer to her. “How is it we’ve never met?”
Grace realized she’d been staring and moved her gaze to a spot just to the left of his broad shoulders. “I have only been to London a few times in the past few years, Your Grace. And then not to involve myself with the social season.”
“Why not?”
His questions made her uncomfortable, but she couldn’t think of a good reason not to answer him. “I am the oldest of seven daughters. My mother died giving birth to my youngest sister, Anne. I promised my mother I would see to their upbringing and make sure they all made matches of their choosing. My responsibilities gave me time for little else.”
“What about your father? Didn’t he involve himself in raising his daughters?”
“We were not his heirs, Your Grace. You especially can understand the difference in importance between a daughter and a son. Multiply that by seven.”
The duke took a step toward her. “Tell me why you found it necessary to lose your virginity to a stranger.”
Grace sucked in a painful gasp of air. She would not allow him to intimidate her. She didn’t regret what she’d done and wouldn’t let him make her doubt her decision. “In order to save my youngest sister from marrying a truly horrible man, I agreed to take her place, knowing the man wouldn’t want me once he found out I wasn’t a…virgin.”
“So you let me take care of that little matter for you?”
She looked to the floor. “Yes.”
“Did your plan work?”
“Yes,” she whispered, unable to look directly at him.
“So what are your intentions now?”
“Intentions?”
“Yes.” The duke took another step toward her. “What do you intend to do now? Go back to the country where you can live in seclusion the rest of your life?”
“No.” She could not tell him her father had evicted her from his house. Tell him she was now at the mercy of the six sisters she’d raised.
“Get caught up in the whirlwind of London’s social life and search for a husband?”
Her gaze flew to his face. “I am far past the marrying age. I have no intention of competing for a husband with young debutantes fresh out of the schoolroom.”
“Do you expect me to marry you then?”
The floor dropped from beneath her. “No! I have no intention of ever marrying. I am quite content to be alone.”
“Then what is it you expect me to do?”
“You?” She stared at him in disbelief. “Nothing, Your Grace. Other than the role you played that one night, you aren’t involved in this.”
“And you, my lady, are either unbelievably naive or a fool. And I doubt you are a fool. Desperate, perhaps. But not a fool.”
Grace decided she needed to get this over with as quickly as possible. If it was an apology he wanted, she would give it to him and he could leave her without giving her a second thought. “I’m sure you are disturbed by—”
“Disturbed? I think you do not have the vaguest idea how disturbed I am.”
Grace took a fortifying breath and started again. “Very well. I know you’re angry with me—”
“The word is
furious
.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Very well, I know you’re furious. I appreciate your feelings. I apologize for any inconvenience I caused, but I was desperate and needed you to help me.”
“And now you expect me to say thank you for an enjoyable evening and walk away?”
She lifted her chin even though her cheeks burned as if on fire. “Yes.”
The corners of his lips lifted into a smile that turned the expression on his face even more daunting. “You should know that’s hardly possible.”
“Your Grace.” She stepped closer to him to give her words more emphasis. “To avoid an unimaginable marriage I made a decision to give up my virginity. I would do it again without hesitation. I expected nothing from my actions other than to escape a life with a man I detested. It was not my intent then, nor is it my intent now, to demand anything from you. I most assuredly did not intend to trap you into assuming responsibility for me.”
“What did you think I would do?”
Grace shrugged her shoulders. “To be honest, I gave you little thought. I expected you would treat me as you did any other of Madam Genevieve’s women. I expected you to spend the night with me and forget me.”
“That is hardly possible knowing that the woman I slept with was a virgin.”
Grace swallowed. “I regret you realized that. Genevieve said she would give you—”
“Yes. I know. She expected the potion she gave me to mask the fact that you had never lain with a man before.”
Grace lowered her gaze to the floor. A niggling confusion stirred within her. His being here was not a complete coincidence. She should have known even Hannah couldn’t stand up to him. Well, it didn’t matter. She was through talking. Through trying to explain why she’d been so desperate to sleep with him. Through letting him think he was responsible for her because of one night.
“I would appreciate it, Your Grace, if you left me now. I apologize for deceiving you, but I had no choice. I hoped you would wake up the next day and not give me a second thought. I assumed you would not care to discover my identity or seek me out. I cannot imagine why you have. I deeply regret that you found me.”
Grace held her ground, lifting her head in a show of determination. “I intend to forget what happened between us, and I ask that you do the same.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes,” she lied. “As far as I’m concerned, that night never happened.”
“What if you’re with child?”
The room spun around her and Grace reached out a hand to the wall to steady herself. “I’m not.”
“Are you sure?”
She gasped for air. “Of course. It takes more than once to conceive.”
He laughed. “That belief has made mothers out of more young women than not.”
She turned her face away from him.
“Have you resumed your monthly courses since we made love?”
Grace felt her cheeks burn hot.
“Have you?”
“No. But it isn’t time.”
“How much longer until you know for sure?”
Grace shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
“You wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t tricked me into your bed.”
His words were meant to hurt and they did. “I’ve already apologized, Your Grace. Please, leave and forget we met.”
“How much longer?”
She fisted her hands in frustration at his mortifyingly personal questions. “I don’t know. I’m not as…predictable as some women.”
“Bloody hell.”
He’d whispered the words, but that didn’t make them any less dangerous. The way he shot his fingers through his thick, dark hair emphasized it.
“Please leave, Your Grace. You are not responsible for me. I will not let you think you are.”
“And if you find you’re
enceinte
?”
She clutched her hands around her middle. “I’m sure I’m not.”
“And I have no intention of taking the risk that the next Raeborn heir might be born illegitimate.”
The air caught in her chest. “I would never let that happen,” she whispered, her whole body trembling. For the first time she realized what it might mean if she had
conceived the night they’d been together. She felt another wave of fear greater than any she’d felt before. She lowered her gaze to the design on the carpet. “I would tell you if I discovered I was carrying your child.”
“And then what? We’d shock society with a rushed wedding when they’d never once seen the two of us together?”
Wedding!
Grace felt a noose tighten around her neck. “There is no need to fear just yet, Your Grace. I’m sure your worry is for naught.”
The duke closed his eyes and looked away as if he did not believe her. As if the thought of taking her for a wife wasn’t pleasant. Grace tried not to let the hurt show. She had never been as pretty as her sisters. She’d been ordinary and plain, with only her thick, golden hair and large, dark eyes to recommend her. She could tell from the disappointment on the duke’s face that those attributes weren’t enough.
She wanted to escape his scrutiny but forced herself to stay still.
“Are you staying at your father’s town house here in London?”
His question took her by surprise. “No. I am staying here with my sister and her husband. They were gracious enough to open their home to me while I was in town.”
“Very well. I’ll call on you tomorrow and we can talk more. Now we’d best return to the musicale before we are missed. You go first. I’ll come later. After I enter, I’ll escort you to get something to drink. Without a doubt our association will be noticed. Tomorrow afternoon we’ll join
the five o’clock parade through Hyde Park. That will cause more talk.
“You can give me a list of the social engagements you plan to attend during the next week or two and I’ll adjust my calendar accordingly. We will have to be seen together often to avoid questions should the need for a hasty wedding arise.”
Grace staggered back a step. “Surely all this isn’t necessary,” she whispered, the noose tightening even more.
“Pray your monthly visitor arrives soon, my lady. Otherwise the risks you took may force you into a marriage even worse than the one you thought to escape.”