*~~*~~*
Grace found herself sitting and drinking tea in Max’s parlour, instead of being conveyed back to her snug country home not far from London.
Quite how this had happened she wasn’t sure, given her firm intention of leaving before breakfast, but she’d hazard a guess that the gentleman sitting opposite had a lot to do with it.
She’d met Sir Peregrine some time ago, during the turbulent period of Max’s affair and courtship of Miss Kitty Ridlington, the firebrand of a woman who was now his wife and mother of darling Margaret. Perry had been a rock of commonsense during that time, and she’d come to know him as a charming, intelligent and reserved man, with a wicked sense of humour, as he’d betrayed this morning with his absurdly well-improvised Shakespeare quotations. He was one of the few people with whom she felt no need to hide her scars.
His demeanour was one of elegant simplicity; no Dandy tendencies or Byronic affectations. This morning he was garbed in a deep blue jacket and tan breeches, his boots mirror-bright, his waistcoat a whimsical shade of green. The shirt above it was pristine white and his cravat secured with a simple gold pin.
Perhaps it was the touch of silver above his ears, or the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled…whatever it was, Grace had privately confessed to more than a few tugs of attraction whenever he was present. His behaviour toward her had always been correct, lighthearted and everything it should be.
If she sensed a little touch of flirtation in some of his comments, well…it was more because she wished they were there. For surely she could not be the object of anyone’s personal interest. She was too old, for one thing, and too…
“What do you think, Grace?” Max interrupted her inner cogitations.
She blinked. “Forgive me. My mind was elsewhere.” She gave her annoying brother an apologetic grin. “What do I think of what?”
“Perry’s suggestion.”
“Goodness, I really must have been miles away.” Turning to the other man, she sighed. “I am sorry. What was your suggestion, Perry?”
He grinned. “No apologies necessary. My own mind wanders when Max starts on his stories.”
“Hey.” An outraged exhalation from her brother.
“Hush, Max. ’Twas all my fault. Now, Perry…please? Your suggestion?”
“As I was explaining to Max, I am looking at purchasing a tidy property outside London. I know you have a home in the country, and I was wondering if you’d be good enough to come and look at it with me this morning?”
“Oh…I…er…”
“I should perhaps mention I won’t take no for an answer.” He smiled, robbing the words of any sense of being an order.
Which Grace felt they were. “Uh…”
“I will also add that I have requested the staff to provide lunch for us. That way we can take our time.” He leaned back. “I would very much value your thoughts, Grace. I can certainly make judgments on the property; lands, buildings and so on. But I need a better sense of the interior design. Would it suffice for a gentleman of my advanced years? How many rooms do I actually require? Would I be buying a massive ballroom when I really wouldn’t need one, or could I convert such a space into something more useful?” He smiled sweetly. “You can see how much I need your assistance.”
She was not seduced by that smile. Well, not a lot, anyway.
“Surely there are others in your family who would be better able to serve those needs, Perry…” It occurred to her that she knew very little about his family.
He shook his head. “Not really. My only relative is a nephew in Scotland. No help at all.”
“Ah.” No luck there.
“And is there not one wife of a friend who might act as advisor?”
Again he shook his head. “Not a one. They’re all terribly busy this morning.”
She raised a sceptical eyebrow. “How unfortunate.”
“So you see why I’m at my wits’ end. You are my only hope, dear Grace. I must throw myself upon your good nature and beg you to accompany me.”
“The man is offering lunch as well, sister. Take him up on his offer.” Max contributed his mite, earning a look of mild disgust from Perry.
“I believe Grace is above the lure of food, Max. Unlike others in her family.”
“Ouch.”
