The duke offered her the slightest nod, watching her with the tenacity of a predator on the hunt. “Yes. We are acquainted. A pleasure to see you again, Lady Grace.” He turned to the ladies on his left. “Allow me to present Lady Margaret and her mother, Lady Longmorten.”
Grace bit the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting. Good heavens, but Connor and Sissy had been so right. Lady Longmorten not only had the long face of a mule but the large, slightly protruding front teeth as well. Her daughter was comelier, but the resemblance between the two was unmistakable.
Mama’s voice resounded loudly in Grace’s head:A beautiful heart outshines all else. Do not become an ugly beast by entertaining ugly thoughts.She offered the ladies her best curtsy. “Lady Margaret, Lady Longmorten, thank you for joining us this evening.”
Lady Margaret responded with a strained smile that made the coldness in her eyes even icier. Lady Longmorten simply gave a haughty sniff and a curt nod. The ladies, or at least the mother, did not wish to be here. Grace felt it as plain as a slap on the wrist.
She turned her attention back to the duke. “While I am sure my sister already made mention of it, I would like to add my thanks for the thoughtful gifts you sent for little Aurora and Quill. I am sure they will love them.”
Mischief flashed in his dark eyes and a slow, knowing smile tugged at his full lips. Good heavens, but the man was indeed handsome. Grace swallowed hard and struggled to calm her silly heart, which had taken to beating entirely too fast.
“It was my pleasure to sendallthe gifts, my lady.” His voice was as deep and sultry as a lion’s purr. “Eachof them was chosen with the greatest of care, I assure you.”
She clenched her teeth while forcing a polite smile, knowing he meant the buckskins. Wicked man. But she had to admit, it was well played. Perhaps he was a worthy adversary after all.
“Gifts?” Lady Margaret repeated with a nervous titter. Her mother narrowed her eyes in an incinerating glare focused on Wolfebourne.
“My sister and I had to rush out of Mettlestone’s before we finished our shopping,” Grace lied. Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie. They had simply left before they bought any gifts. “I can only assume His Grace overheard how we wished to surprise our precious little niece and nephew with some new toys when they arrive next week. Then, this afternoon, the perfect dolly was delivered for Aurora, and even though Quill is naught but a babe in arms, I am sure he will be most entertained by the brightly painted toy soldiers.”
“How nice,” Lady Margaret said, but she didn’t sound as though she thought it nice at all.
The poor lady was most unhappy, Grace decided. The rumor Serendipity had heard must be accurate. Perhaps Lady Margaret did love another. Or was she simply tired of waiting for Wolfebourne to take her to the altar?
“Yes,” Grace agreed, almost as an afterthought. She was not good at meaningless chatter and was at a loss as to how to keep the conversation going without revealing too much of her history with the duke. She glanced around, looking for Chance, who had wandered off like a dog that had chewed through its lead. “It was a nice gesture, indeed.” She looked over and widened her eyes at her sisters with their agreed-upon signal forhelp me.
Before they came to her rescue, Walters announced in a surprisingly loud voice, “The Earl of Middlebie.”
“Bless my soul,” said the hulking Scot, his voice booming through the room like cannon fire. He swaggered forward and clapped a hand on Chance’s shoulder. “What a fine gathering, Broadmere. Thank ye for inviting me for a wee stay here in the English countryside.”
Chance grinned like the wiliest hunter who had just set the perfect snare.
Grace shot a demanding look at Serendipity, who responded with a subtle shrug that shouted she had no idea Chance had invited Thornton Armstrong, the Earl of Middlebie, a boisterous Scot, to come to the manor for a stay of an undetermined length. The man was nice enough. Charming and gentlemanly too, even though he was always loud. But rumor had it that his propensity for poor investments and lavish spending had left him with little more than a crumbling castle in the Highlands and the kilt belted at his waist.
Grace fixed a hard look on her brother, determined that hefeelher thoughts. She would not be bartered off to ease the financial woes of one of Chance’s friends. The will said she would marry for love—not money.
Walters appeared at the doorway of the dining room and struck the small gong he held suspended from a golden ribbon. “Dinner is served.”
Chance and Serendipity led the way, followed by the Duke of Wolfebourne and Lady Longmorten. The Marquess of Strathyre and his wife came next, and then the Earl of Middlebie and Lady Margaret. The Scot bathed the woman in laughter and endless chatter, and she appeared to enjoy it. The sour-faced viscount, Lord Blytheston, took his place beside Grace, and Sir Andrew fell in step beside Joy. Felicity and Merry ended the ridiculous ranked-by-peerage parade into the dining room.
The footmen hurried to fill the wine glasses and serve the soup. Grace didn’t even attempt to repress a despondent sigh as she stared down at the creamy quagmire she had always hated. She couldn’t refuse it. It simply wasn’t done.One must never refuse the first course,her conscience reminded her in dear Mama’s voice.
Felicity nudged her and whispered, “I convinced Cook to change the recipe. It is much better. Try it, Gracie.”
With the side of her spoon barely touching the thick broth, Grace risked a glance down the table and almost laughed. Wolfebourne was staring down at his soup with a similar expression of dislike. Then he lifted his head and their gazes met. Ever so slowly, he smiled, and she had to do the same. The pea soup was their shared enemy. At least they had that in common.
The servants brought in the second course, arranging the joint of mutton, chicken, roasted carrots, turnips, and parsnips in a pleasing array of platters. Pickled vegetables were also placed on each end of the table so the footmen could better fill the guests’ plates.
Salmon pie, baked fish with wine and mushrooms, and potato pudding made up the third course. By that time, Grace had picked at all she could bear, but politely slid bits of food around on her plate since others were still enjoying their meal. Now and then, she slipped a tidbit to Gastric, who waited underthe table to help her make it look as though she were eating. She couldn’t hope to escape until after the dessert course, when the females would be excused to the smaller parlor while the men enjoyed their port and cigars in the library.
Grace noticed Lady Longmorten had eaten very little, if anything, as well. The woman had even given up on shoving the food in circles on her plate. She simply sat there with her hands in her lap, glaring at Wolfebourne and occasionally glancing down the table at her daughter. Even if Connor and Sissy hadn’t told Grace of the woman’s plan to be rid of them, Grace wouldn’t like her. As Mama had always said,Rarely can a mean-spirited person hide the blackness of their heart. They will always reveal their soulless ways.
As the fritters, syllabub, cream puffs, jellies, and nuts were brought out, Grace breathed easier. Not much longer now until the women would be dismissed to the small parlor near the side garden. From there, she could slip outside and climb the trellis up to the second floor. She had done that so many times in the past that she could scale the wall with her eyes closed. If someone missed her after that, no one would bother to drag her back downstairs because, at least, she had made a showing when it mattered. Chance might get a little fractious with her, but she didn’t care. She had behaved properly as long as she could.
When they were finally dismissed, she rose so quickly from the table that she nearly knocked her chair over backward. That earned her a hard look from Serendipity, which she answered with a roll of her eyes. They had all best be happy she had been the dutiful sister. She hated the societal and sometimes political maneuvering of balls, dinner parties, and tiresome soirees. A refreshing breeze cutting across a peaceful meadow sang to her soul and comforted her. Presenting herself like a fine, plump goose in the butcher window, all trussed up and ready for marriage, did not.
While Felicity talked recipes with Lady Strathyre, and Joy and Merry chatted about card games with Lady Margaret, Serendipity did her best to entertain Lady Longmorten.
Bless her soul,Grace thought as she looked on from her escape route beside the doors thrown open to the cool breeze coming in from the side garden. Serendipity would surely earn a special place in heaven for the patience and politeness she always displayed.
