Cage took her hand and rubbed the delicate skin with one thumb. He had a fair idea where her story was headed. And exactly what kind of man Harlow had been. For the hundredth time, Cage wished the man was still alive so he could hunt him down and disembowel him, or chain him to a cannonball and throw him into the river.
“We’d been in London about a week when he took me to a party at Mrs. Gwyn’s. I had no idea her house was a brothel. How would I? There was lots of drinking and dancing, and later I realized opium drops were laced in my wine. Everything went from bawdy and funny to downright debauched in a blur of kissing and naked bodies. In the morning, I woke with the worst headache. I saw Mrs. Gwyn give Harlow a bag of coin. ‘She’ll do just fine.’ she said. Harlow left without looking back, even when I called out his name.”
Cage stood up to pace a few feet away, too afraid the rage he felt would spill out and scare Grace.
“I’m sorry, Cage. I know I made all the wrong decisions. I allowed him to lead me to ruin. I’m so ashamed.”
Cage whirled around, aghast that she would blame herself. He went to his knees in front of her and grasped both her hands. “Grace, I turned away because I’m so angry at the injustices done to you, I might burst into flames. I am so sorry I was not there to protect you from men like Harlow. You were lied to, manipulated, used, and I want to kill everyone who did you harm.”
Grace flung her arms around his neck, and he held her while she dampened his collar with her tears. He softly stroked her hair. “You are not ruined. You are still precious to me. We will move forward from the past together.” He promised. “You are not alone.”
After her tears had run their course, his sister sat up and accepted the handkerchief he offered. Cage retook his seat next to her.
She sucked in a breath. “I did go look for Harlow. He’d left the rooms we rented, the closets empty, and his bags were gone. The proprietor told me we owed payment for the last three nights. I had no coin. It was either roam the streets at night or go back to Gwyn’s.”
They sat and stared up at the manor house for a long time. A splash from the pool broke the silence as a frog jumped from a lily pad into the water. Grace stood. “All my life, I’ve made choices based on fear. I’ve let the fear I learned here rule me. But no more. I will reach for happiness.” She turned and held out a hand. “Let’s go inside and let Mrs. Greer know you’ve arrived.”
Cage tucked her close, and they walked back slowly to the house. He glanced over and caught her eye. “So does that happiness include a certain coachman?”
Grace blushed. Her gaze drifted in the direction of the stables. “Perhaps. William is kind and gentle. His strength is in his quiet understanding. And he is so talented at training horses. Mr. Gregory said he has a knack for understanding them.”
Cage squeezed her hand.
They went around the house and up the front steps. There he paused. Twelve years ago, he fled this house after a horrific incident with his father. He’d not stepped foot inside since then. Even though he knew his father was dead and buried in the family graveyard, somehow, this last step through the threshold sent a shiver down Cage’s spine.
His sister nudged him. “I felt the same yesterday. Go on; he’s not here.”
The door swung open, and Mrs. Greer stood, her mouth agape, in the entrance. “Tis a week for surprises indeed! Come in, come in, my lord.”
Cage couldn’t help but grin at her wide-eyed shock. The housekeeper looked the same as he remembered from his childhood. Tall and lithe, she wore a dark blue dress, her silver chatelaine pinned at her waist, its many keys and polished tools hung in a neat row from it. Her hair held more silver than brown these days, but a smile wreathed her face, making her look almost girlish in her joy.
“Both of you home. Well, it is a miracle.”
“It’s so nice to see you again, Mrs. Greer,” Cage said politely.
“Look at you so tall and broad. You’ve grown into a fine-looking man.” The housekeeper pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes. “Well, what are we doing standing around here in the hall? Let’s get you settled. Are you hungry? Of course, you must be hungry after traveling. How long have you been on the road?”
Grace gently interrupted. “Perhaps tea in the morning room?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve kept all the rooms aired and dusted. But the furnishings could use some refreshing. Would you like a tour of the house, my lord?”
“Not today, I think. Perhaps tomorrow?” Cage couldn’t believe how much the woman prattled. Perhaps another result of his father’s death. When the old man was alive, no one was allowed to speak unless spoken to. The manor was always quiet as a church.
“Of course. Let’s get you settled first.” She turned her head to holler up the stairs. “Molly!”
He and Grace exchanged an amused look.
A young woman in a crisp maid’s uniform rushed around the corner. “Yes, ma’am?”
“The new lord has come home. Prepare the master’s suite right away.”
“No!” Cage stepped forward. “I mean, I would prefer just to stay in one of the guest rooms.”
Mrs. Greer nodded briskly. “Molly, prepare the guest room next to Miss Grace’s. I’ll go prepare the tea.” She bustled away toward the back of the house.
Grace moved to the center of the large marble floor and executed a happy little twirl. “Can’t you feel the difference, Cage? It’s like he has been exorcised from the house.” She raised her hands in the air. “I will not be quiet,” she shouted to the heavens. “Do you hear me, you bastard? I will be happy!”
Watching his sister take back this small measure of control in her life cracked something open in his chest. How long had he also made decisions based on fear? Grace twirled and twirled in circles, her arms outstretched. He shoved his hands into his pockets and laughed. Grace paused, and for the first time since he had found her, she smiled with pure joy dancing in her eyes.
