“Yes,” she said in a rush. “I promise I’m not usually such a ninny, but I swear every night I hear creaks and groans coming from the room next to mine. I think it’s inhabited by ghosts.”
Grace tossed her braid over her shoulder and slumped in her seat. The Yew Room did seem like an odd inclusion to the other guest rooms. Named after the wood their furniture had been made from, many held odd superstitions around it, but Grace didn’t believe in ghosts. “Probably just a friendly Christmas ghost come to wish you a good year.”
“Or scare me into more circumspect living,” Prudence huffed out.
“That too.” Grace snickered.
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound that filled the room.
“Why did you follow Lord Gladsby to the inner court?” Prudence asked when the silence had stretched too long.
Why had she? Honestly, Grace was not sure. She’d simply felt something was amiss, so she’d followed her intuition, something she did often. Usually, her intuition was right.
Somethinghadupset Lord Gladsby, and she was glad she’d listened.
“I see that glow in your eyes, Grace.” Prudence grinned.
“You only see the firelight’s reflection,” she argued.
“Not so. You know it is completely obvious you are smitten with him. I even heard Bradley and Diana speaking of it when I passed their room.”
“You were eavesdropping?”
“It’s not eavesdropping if you do not stay to listen. It was circumstantial listening. I was making my way here.”
Grace wanted to reprimand her sister, but her curiosity warred with her sense of right. After a short internal battle, curiosity won out.
“What were they saying?”
“That if everything goes as planned, the vicar will be reading the banns for you and Lord Gladsby by Twelfth Night.”
Grace bolted upright. “They did not.”
“They did.” Prudence preened. “The man is just as besotted with you as you are with him, Grace. Can’t you see that? Why else would Bradley make sure you were here for the holidays?”
“Make sure? I assumed...”
Grace’s face suffused with warmth. Her brother was trying to play matchmaker. How humiliating. She adjusted her position, hoping the movement would dispel her discomfort. No wonder Diana had not attended them when they went in search of themistletoe. Did Lord Gladsby suspect their scheme? Likely not. He seemed the type of man who’d be quite upset at the prospect of being forced together with anyone.
“Pru, I need you to do me a favor.”
“What is that?”
“Do not tell anyone what you overheard.”
Prudence’s chocolate-colored brows furrowed. “Alright. But why?”
“I think it would make Lord Gladsby very upset.”
“I do not know why. I’d think the man would be grateful since he’s moving slower than a half-frozen snail.”
Grace smirked at Pru’s declaration. If he was indeed interested, then yes, he was moving slowly, but she did not begrudge him the time. In the year she’d known him, there were three very important things she’d learned about Lord Gladsby.
First, he was cautious about everything. She supposed that was a result of all the years at war. Usually it was a simple sweep of the room with his eyes before he entered, or a hand at the ready when they were outside. But sometimes he could be quite skittish. Once she’d even seen him draw a knife from his boot during a walk. The crash of the deer bounding through the underbrush had been a little frightening, but not enough to merit the way he’d jumped to protect her. That caution would surely seep over into his decision to take a wife.
Second, he felt a great obligation to build upon what his father had left him. They’d not talked about it often, but he’d once admitted he felt a duty to make up for not being present when his father died. Everyone knew that the best way to build an estate was to marry well. And she was the farthest from marrying up in Society.
Third, and probably the most important, was his need to come to a decision on his own. He’d never confessed as much toher, but she’d observed him enough times to know he was very independent. No one would push him into a match.
