Felicity Beaumont seated herself before responding. “I am quite sure he will weather the storm my dear, he is a duke, after all. Unfortunately, you are simply a vicar’s daughter so will not fare so well.”
Grace squeezed her eyes shut in shame. “What exactly were they saying?” she whispered after a few seconds.
“Oh, much about frolicking around in hay bales and embarrassing your father to such an extent, he attempted to abduct you to prevent you bringing further shame to the Blackmore name.” Felicity waved her hand nonchalantly in the air as if the gossip were of no import.
“Dear Lord,” Grace murmured faintly. She subsided onto the sofa, just as Mrs Jenks brought in the tea. Once they were alone again, she poured with a shaking hand and only just managed to avoid spilling the liquid all over her mentor’s morning dress.
“My husband will never forgive me.” Grace stifled a sob as she attempted a sip of the lukewarm tea. “I care not about society, but rather the embarrassment I’ve undoubtedly brought to the Sinclair name. All through my own stubbornness and stupidity.”
“I doubt that very much,” responded Felicity with a snort. “I dare say you had due provocation to act as you did.” She replaced her cup decisively on the occasional table in front of her. “Before you throw yourself on the altar of martyrdom, my dear, consider this. Sinclair had a reputation for, well, to put it bluntly, being a brooding ill-tempered bore. Now, he has a beautiful wife who is admittedly leading him a merry dance, and he will be all the morepopular for it.”
Rising from her chair, she slid on her gloves before continuing briskly. “You looked magnificent last night, my dear. Never forget that. Thetonwill never forget it either.”
∞∞∞
Standing at the window of his study, Nicholas stared distractedly at the early autumn leaves drifting across the square while he waited for his wife to answer his summons. He’d put off speaking with her until now, not sure he could trust himself to hold a civil conversation. The overwhelming hurt and betrayal he’d felt when he’d walked into the ballroom to discover that the antics of his wife had become the latest juicy on-dit on the vicious tongues of thetonchurned a path in his gut that made him want to run somebody through.
Preferably his father-in-law.
But his torment didn’t come from the fact Grace had taken part in activities she knew would embarrass him. It was thereasonshe had sought to do so.
His wife had hoped he would put her aside.
Nicholas closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, forcing back the anguish he’d felt ever since he discovered the lengths Grace was prepared to go to be free of him. Well now she would have her wish.
He turned away at the sound of the door opening, his heart catching in his throat at the sight of his wife looking so broken and lost. He noted her eyes were red rimmed and puffy, her hair and dress back to the simple style she’d favoured at the start of their marriage. It seemed she had already put aside the trappings of a duchess. Perhaps she was not as heartbroken as she looked. There was no doubt in Nicholas’s mind that this had been her intent all along.
“I understand you wish to speak with me,” she murmured, her eyes downcast. Nicholas marvelled at her show of humility, reluctantly recalling the banter they’d shared regarding her persistent observation of the flooring at Blackmore. He waited until she looked up, then nodded curtly towards the chair in the front of his desk, a silent demand for her to sit down.
“I will not waste time discussing possible repercussions of your activities since your exploits have made it abundantly clear that you do not wish for us to reside in the same house as man and wife.” His voice was icy, his expression carefully blank.
“I do not wish that,” Grace protested softly, her heart sinking at his glacial tone.
Nicholas was silent for a second, then continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “We will depart for Devonshire first thing in the morning. There is a cottage on the Blackmore estate which is suitably distant from the main house to ensure we are unlikely to encounter one another. You will remain there until such time as it becomes apparent whether or not you are with child. Should our … endeavours prove to have been fruitful, you will stay until the child is born.” His lips twisted in a mirthless smile. “Beyond that, I do not care what you do. You may remain in the house or leave as you wish.”
“You would take my child away from me?” Grace burst out in horror.
“The child will be my heir,” he said between his teeth. “The future Duke of Blackmore will not be brought up without his father.”
“What if it’s a girl,” Grace countered desperately. “Don’t you want a son?”
Nicholas stared at her, his face twisted with a mixture of grief and loathing. “I had a son,” he bit out finally. “He died.”
Grace’s retort died on her lips as she gazed at her husband’s beautifulhaunted face.
“The boy who lost his legs. He was your son?” Her whisper was full of compassion, understanding finally shining in her eyes.
“If he were alive now,” Nicholas ground out, his voice raw with anguish, “you may rest assured madam, we would never have been married.”
Without another word, he turned on his heels and walked out, as if he couldn’t bear to stay in the room with her for another second.
Thankfully, Grace’s intolerable grief gradually turned into tolerable numbness. She insisted on packing her own clothes, much to the dismay of Dorcas who was practically in tears before her mistress finally lost her temper and shooed the young woman out. The last thing Grace needed was a fight with her maid over what was right and proper, especially as she was choosing to leave the majority of her new wardrobe behind. She would have little use for it in Devonshire. She hoped Dorcas would be able to find another position. Unfortunately, a letter of recommendation from the scandalous Duchess of Blackmore would do little to help.
Biting her lip, Grace finally sealed her portmanteau. She had eschewed dinner for a light supper in her bedchamber but had eaten none of it. Her stomach felt as if it contained a large rock, rendering her totally unable to swallow. She glanced around the gloomy room remembering the ideas for its transformation she’d shyly imparted to Nicholas in the warm aftermath of their lovemaking. He’d approved all her plans without any hesitation, holding her close in his arms until he deemed it time for him to return to his own chamber. More than once she’d had to bite her lip to refrain from begging him to stay.
She realised now how much her husband had indulged her. The cruel man from earlier bore no resemblance to him at all.
Wearily, she climbed into her bed. They were departing London early on the morrow, but she very much doubted she would oversleep. Indeed, she knew she would be lucky if she closed hereyes at all.
