A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (76 page)

Neil hauled Barrow to his feet and
held him while Frost secured the suspected traitor’s hands behind
his back with a rope.

Alex took his chance before the man’s
hands were fully secured and landed a hard blow to the earl’s jaw.
“That,” he spat out, “is for Grace.”

Neil let go of his grasp on the man,
and Frost backed away.

Another blow, this time to his nose.
Barrow moaned and spit blood in Alex’s face before he slid to the
floor in pain, moving his hands to rub the injured areas. “That one
is for Priscilla.”

No one rushed to Barrow’s aid. They
all just stood aside and watched.

“
You dare to strike me over
two whores? And while I was bound, no less. Coward.”

Before he could stop himself, Alex
swung his heavy, booted foot at Barrow’s stomach. The earl merely
crumpled over in pain, unable to even counter with another
argument.

Alex backed away and shook the sting
from his hand. “That was for Harry,” he said so quietly, he almost
didn’t realize it had come from his own lips.

“
Your Grace. My lords,”
Frost said as he moved once again to Barrow’s side, holding him as
though to restrain him further, though there was no need any
longer. He was in too much pain to offer much resistance. “We’ll
escort the prisoner to the Tower now. His Highness would like to
thank you for your loyalty to the crown, Your Grace, but he asks
that you keep a healthy eye on Lord Chatham until a determination
can be made as to his involvement.”

Through the entire ordeal, Peter
hadn’t moved a muscle. He nodded his head to the two Runners. “Of
course, Frost. I am at His Highness’s service, as
always.”

Frost and Dennison pushed the hunched
over Barrow through the doors and away from the ball. Alex waited
until the clicks of their heels against the marble floors faded
into the background noise of the ballroom.

Chatham stood in a new position near
the fire, quivering in fear.

“
Well, I believe I’ve had
more than enough entertainment for one evening,” Peter said. “Shall
we all retire to Hardwicke House and discuss what’s to be done from
there?”

The other men mumbled their agreement.
With great distaste, Alex noted that Chatham had been included in
the general invitation. Peter would honor his commitment, then, to
the fullest.

Peter gave Chatham a pointed look.
“I’ll only be a moment. I must give my thanks to Lord Anders for
the use of his library and his hospitality for the evening. Lord
Chatham, you’ll be staying at Hardwicke House for an extended
visit.”

The older man looked pained. “Am I to
understand this is an order and not a request, then?”

“
Understand it as you will.
It’s of no concern to me. But you will join us at Hardwicke House.”
Peter turned to Derek, then. “Sinclaire, might we have use of your
carriage as well, this evening? I don’t believe we have room for
everyone in my carriages. We have quite the party returning this
evening.”

Derek nodded his assent.

“
Excellent. I’ll order them
all prepared at once.”

Peter left the library without
delay.

Alex could think of only one thing.
Grace could never be forced to marry Barrow now.

She was free.

~ * ~

Grace pushed the wave of nausea
threatening to overpower her down yet again. She refused to be sick
in her uncle’s carriage.

But with each step of the horses, she
drew one step closer to London.

One step closer to her fate. To
marriage.

To Lord
Barrow
.

And every step also took her further
from everything she loved. Well, not quite everything, to be fair.
Aunt Dorothea and Uncle Laurence were with her, traveling to
London. They would stay with her as long as possible.

But she had left behind New Hill
Cottage, the open hills of Somerton, and a piece of her heart. She
had left behind Lord Alexander.

A single tear escaped before she could
squelch it, and Grace cringed as she wiped it away.

“
Gracie, sweetheart,” Aunt
Dorothea said. “Are you quite unwell? Should we stop the carriage
and rest for a bit?” The older woman reached across the empty area
between them and grasped one of Grace’s hands.

“
No, Aunt. Please let us
continue.” Why must she have noticed?

A dubious look settled on Aunt
Dorothea’s face. “All right. But don’t try to be strong, Gracie. In
your condition, a woman must take care to rest. I don’t wish to
overtax you, and I am certain your father would understand our late
arrival. Even a monster like him has feelings.”

“
Dorothea,” Uncle Laurence
warned.

“
What?” she asked. “They
do. Everyone has feelings.” She paused for a beat, lifting a brow
at him. “And the man is most certainly a monster, with the way he’s
treated Gracie, not to mention how he’s accused
us
of
kidnapping
her.”

He said nothing, but gripped his
wife’s fingers and squeezed in admonition.

Silence returned to the carriage.
Grace stared through the windows at the countryside passing them by
and wished the horses would slow their gait, or a wheel would get
stuck in a rut in the road, or a highwayman would accost them and
delay their arrival in Town.

But none of those things would happen.
Grace’s luck did not run that way.

After another long stretch of travel,
the driver stopped the team to allow the Kensingtons and Grace to
break for a meal. They could have stopped at a posting inn and been
served, but they chose instead to picnic. Uncle Laurence claimed he
preferred to sit in the bright sun for a time, but Grace believed
he ordered the picnic for a different reason.

They were nearing Town—and society—and
Grace was in no frame of mind to handle polite conversation with
strangers, who may or may not have heard of her and her
situation—or rather, any number of situations she had recently
found herself in. Uncle Laurence must be sensitive to her
plight.

So they picnicked on cold meats and
cheeses by the side of the road under the shade of nearby
trees.

“
It’s quite a lovely day
we’re having,” Aunt Dorothea said. “Isn’t it? I do love the
sunshine, and we’ve had frightfully little of it in Somerton
lately. Oh dear, Laurence, I believe I’ve stained my
frock.”

Aunt Dorothea rubbed at what might be
a grass stain, but was possibly nothing but a damp spot on the
green traveling gown. “Well, I believe we’ll be in Town before
suppertime. Lud, do you think Chatham will have supper prepared for
us? Oh, I am giving the man too much credit. He’s accused us of a
most atrocious crime, so he won’t be so civilized as to feed us. I
wish we’d sent word ahead to our staff to expect us. No doubt, they
won’t have a meal prepared when we get there. I wonder where Lord
Rotheby is staying while he is in London.”

Lord Rotheby? In London? Grace’s heart
palpitated and a flush burned her cheeks.

If the earl was in London, surely Lord
Alexander hadn’t allowed the older man to travel alone. However he
may have behaved toward Grace, she believed him to be an honorable
man. Why, he’d even tried to marry her, the foolish man, after
their encounter in Bath.

That wonderful, wonderful
encounter.

Which she must forget. Grace chided
herself for letting her thoughts run away with her. She’d denied
his pursuit and was as clear about it as she knew how to be. She
had no right to hope he might be in London, and even less right to
wish she might encounter him there. Not to mention wishing he would
repeat his offer.

Alas, she did wish it would happen. If
she could only see him again, even if for the barest of moments,
perhaps she could convince herself he was not the honorable, kind,
warmhearted man she imagined. Perhaps he would prove to be
abominable and mean spirited, like Lord Barrow. Or neglectful, like
her own father. Perhaps the pain would die, and she could stop
loving him.

But perhaps she would accept
him.

“
Gracie.
Gracie
.” Aunt Dorothea
feigned impatience. “Laurence, the girl is lost in thought again.
As much as she gathers wool, she should have a blanket knitted
before nightfall.”

“
I’m sorry, Aunt,” Grace
said. She hated to be caught with her head in the clouds, but it
happened more and more frequently. She could only blame her nerves.
Or perhaps her pregnancy. Likely both. “What were you
saying?”

“
I asked if you had
finished with your luncheon so we can continue. But please, take
your time. I’m in no rush to arrive at Chatham House and I doubt
you are either. Why, look at that. You’ve hardly taken a bite. Eat
up now. You aren’t eating only for yourself, you know.”

Aunt Dorothea puttered about and
placed leftover food in the basket to tidy the area before they
departed. Grace ate her meal without gusto, simply performing the
duty at hand.

She had no desire to hurry their
arrival in London. She didn’t want to see Lord
Alexander.

Oh, how she lied to herself. If only
she could believe the lies.

Chapter
Twenty

Uncle Laurence’s carriage rolled to a
stop before Chatham House late that afternoon. The house was as
gloomy as ever, with cracked paint on the hanging shutters and the
gardens overgrown with weeds and brush. Grace had no desire to step
through the door.

She moved cautiously along the cobbled
path with its broken stones, her aunt and uncle by her side. Uncle
Laurence rapped against the dingy door. They waited for Father’s
old butler to answer.

How odd it was, to wait outside the
house where she had grown up as though she were a guest. But Grace
had come to think of New Hill Cottage as home now, and would prefer
to keep things that way. Chatham House would never provide her with
the warmth and love she had come to know—even to crave—in Somerton.
It couldn’t, after all, give what it didn’t have.

But she would survive.

After several minutes passed, the
butler arrived and opened the door for them. “Good evening. May I
help you?” He looked down at them across a long nose, showing no
recognition of Grace.

Uncle Laurence passed him his calling
card. “We’re here to see Lord Chatham. He’s requested our presence.
Please inform him of our arrival.”

The butler appeared surprised and
refused to take the calling card from Uncle Laurence’s hand. “His
lordship is away from home.” The man moved back a step and took the
door as though he would shut it in their faces.

Uncle Laurence stopped his motion by
placing his forearm firmly against the dusty panel. “When do you
expect his return?” He attempted to move inside the
house.

The elderly butler blocked his entry.
“I could not say.” His tone implied he wouldn’t say even if he
could.

“
Might we come inside and
have a spot of tea while we wait? Our journey has been long, and
the ladies would like to relax.” Uncle Laurence spoke with an
authority in his voice, more giving a command than a request. Grace
imagined he was unaccustomed to being treated in such a manner by a
mere servant, no matter who the servant’s employer may
be.

Her father’s butler continued to stare
with insolence at their small party. “You may not. I do not know
when Lord Chatham will return, and I cannot allow you entry until
he informs me that he wishes to see you.” The aging man took a full
step backward through the doorway and returned to the sanctuary of
the house. “Good day to you all.” He shut the door in their faces,
and the lock bolted into place.

“
Well, I never,” Aunt
Dorothea said with a huff.

Grace should be insulted by the
servant’s impudence, but a wave of elation washed over her instead.
The fates had seen fit to grant her at least this tiny
reprieve.

“
Come along Dorothea,
Gracie.” Uncle Laurence led them back to his waiting carriage and
waved off the footman. “We’ll stay on Curzon Street and enquire
after Chatham’s whereabouts. And if we haven’t found him in a
reasonable time, then we’ll return to Somerton.”

“
This is quite boorish of
him, to order Gracie to return to London and then not even be at
home. And that butler! To shut the door in our faces, without even
offering us some refreshment. We ought not to bother with the
trouble of finding the man. She’s better off with us. We should
just return home and take care of her, like we have
been.”

“
Nevertheless, my dear,
Chatham is Gracie’s father and guardian. We don’t have the
protection of the authorities on our side. We must do as he asks.
Especially if he has already spoken to them about his accusations
against us.”

“
Well, how long must we
wait for him? Two days ought to be more than enough time to find
him, I should think. And if he hadn’t turned up by then, we’ll take
her back home where she belongs.”