“Connor…shh!” Sissy nudged him. “If we don’t behave nice, how can we ’spect them to behave nice to us?”
“I wasn’t being not nice. I was just saying—”
Sissy silenced him with a finger in his face. “Hush it. Now.”
With the babbling toddler balanced on her hip, Joy held out a hand to the little girl. “Sissy, would you like to come along and see how Rorie likes the puppies?”
“I better come along too,” Connor said before his sister could answer. “They get pretty lively. We don’t want them to scratch her and make her cry.”
“What a thoughtful young gentleman,” Blessing said, before bending to kiss Connor’s cheek. “Thank you for watching over Rorie. I know you will keep her safe.”
As the children left with Joy, Fortuity collected baby Quill from Serendipity. “Time for this one to see his nursemaid for a nap so we can all chat. Joy won’t mind our talking without her, since we aren’t discussing games of chance.” She paused in the doorway and gave Grace a stern look. “Do not start until I get back. I want to hear everything from the beginning for clarity.”
Grace was tempted to run after Joy and the twins. She found it difficult to talk about the entire situation because years of Mama’s training quietly scolded her for not only showing interest in an engaged man, but actually agreeing to marry him once he was free. That simply was not done. Granted, Lady Margaret seemed as interested in Wolfe as a man would be in attending a needlepoint club’s weekly tea, but Grace’s conscience, molded by Mama’s sense of right and wrong, still refused to condone her actions. Wolfe belonged to another woman. Grace didn’t particularly like Lady Margaret, but thatdidn’t grant her license to do whatever she wished. She might be unconventional, but she wasn’t a selfish, back-biting little chit.
“Oh my,” Blessing said to her, “and what is that morose look all about?”
“We are supposed to wait for Tutie, remember?” Grace went to the table spread with an elaborate tea and poured herself a cup while trying to think of a means of escape. Never before had she ever had to worry about being the center of attention. With her birth order somewhat in the middle of the brood, she had always been able to slip away and spend time with her beloved animals rather than remain and perform on cue as if she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. It suddenly occurred to her that if she married Wolfe, she would be a duchess and expected to do just that.
She inwardly groaned.Heaven forbid.There was no question she longed to be with him. No man had ever made her heart drum so rapidly just by walking into a room. But the duchess part—that was something else entirely.
She stirred her tea, rhythmically clicking the spoon against the sides of the cup as if counting off the minutes until Fortuity returned to the room. Maybe being the Duchess of Wolfebourne wouldn’t be all that bad. She wouldn’t classify Wolfe as reclusive, but he did seem to keep to himself. Of course, this was the Lake District—the Broadmere family picnic as much as kicked off the summer festivities around Binnocksbourne, and everyone else’s events followed. Was he really the sort that enjoyed attending every soiree? Dear heavens, she hoped not. Whatever had she promised herself into without discussing such important things with the man?
“Grace?”
The richness of his deep voice surrounded her. She turned so quickly that she nearly spilled her tea. “Good heavens, you startled me. What are you doing here?”
He arched a dark brow. “It’s good to see you as well, my lady. I thought to visit with Connor and Sissy—and you, unless your diary for today is otherwise filled.”
Just as she was about to deliver a scathing reply, she noticed they were alone in the room. “Where are my sisters?”
“While your thoughts trapped you in your teacup, Lady Serendipity introduced me to Ladies Blessing and Fortuity, and when you failed to respond to any of them repeatedly clearing their throats, they excused themselves to the garden after my sworn oath to abstain from any ungentlemanly behavior.”
He took her cup from her and set it aside. “What is it, Grace?” he asked softly. “What have I done to displease you? Where is that light in your eyes that always makes me feel so welcome?”
She stared up at him, her selfish heart pounding faster. This wonderful man made her feel as awkward and uncertain as a newborn calf. “You have not displeased me.Ihave displeased me.” She tried to turn away, but he stopped her.
“Pray tell me you haven’t decided to set me aside before we are even together?” He kissed her hand and leaned in closer, trapping her in his dark-eyed gaze. “What is it, Grace? Tell me what is wrong.”
“Mama would scold me for allowing myself to love a man who is engaged to another,” she blurted, cringing at the whininess of her tone. “I abhor balls, dinner parties, and elaborate teas that are more like battles for territories and finding broodmares for heirs rather than social gatherings—and yet here I have agreed to marry an unavailable man, who, if he can extricate himself from his situation, will make me his duchess and expect me to plan and give such balls, dinner parties, and elaborate teas in his name so he might do well politically.” She sucked in a deep breath, gasping like a winded racehorse.
“I see.” He tenderly kept her hands in his, calmly watching her. “Is that everything, or were there any additional rabid thoughts I need to be made aware of?”
“I am not like this.”
“Like what?”
“A bacon-brained, babbling ninny.” She yanked her hands out of his and turned away, unable to believe the person she had become. It was all his fault because he had somehow made her care for him. She whirled back around, ready to explain her case further, and became infuriated by his expression. The man looked entirely too pleased with himself. “And what, pray tell, are you smiling about?”
“You said you loved me.”
“I did not.”
“Indeed you did, my lady.” He ambled closer. An errant shock of his dark hair fell across his forehead in a most rakish way. “I can’t express how happy that makes me, because I can’t imagine myself loving anyone other than you.”
“But you shouldn’t.” Did he not understand her moral conundrum here?
“Why? Because my father ordered his solicitors to draw up some ridiculous agreement between a seven-year-old and a newborn to expand our family’s unentailed lands and bank accounts?” He caught her hands in his yet again. “I should have ended the engagement long ago but didn’t because I feared the cost.” He tugged her close and wrapped her in his arms. “I no longer care what it costs, because you, my lady, are a priceless treasure I cannot live without. I will have you as my wife, my life mate, or I will have no one at all.”
