Glancing down the table, he noticed the woman from the library the evening before. Lady Harcourt was how Moira had introduced her to him. She seemed to be engaged in conversation with the gentleman sitting on her left, Mr. Stanhope, and Henry noticed Sidney sitting to her right, the lucky bastard. She turned her head, and Henry gazed at her in appreciation. He’d not had much of a chance to take in her appearance last night, consumed by ensuring her safety, but now had time to admire her surreptitiously.
She was not an overly tall woman, though she did not appear delicate. Her hair shone in the candlelight, making the deep honey-blonde color appear more of a tarnished gold. Her gaze was kind and attentive as she listened to Stanhope; and while he could not discern their color clearly due to the distance between them at the table, he recalled her eyes being a deep, soulful brown. The longer he looked at her, the more beautiful she became, until he was yanked back to the present by Lady Wrexham demanding his attention. “Apologies, my lady,” he said, putting on his warmest smile. “I’m afraid I was drifting, a bit tired after the journey here,” he said, not lying outright.
As the meal progressed, he found his glance returning to Lady Harcourt and he recalled what little he had learned of her from Fitz during breakfast.
“I don’t really know much about her, why do you ask?” Fitz had inquired as he slathered homemade preserves thickly on his croissant.
“No reason really,” Henry demurred, “I ran into her about the house last evening and I’m not familiar with her. I was just curious.” He did not feel the need to share how he met the lady. Even though Henry trusted him implicitly, the near assault he walked in on included Fitz’s brother-in-law, and it was not his business to share, as it could have negative implications for Lady Harcourt.
Pausing to reach for the teapot, Fitz looked thoughtful saying, “she’s a bit of a mystery really. She and Moira were close friends when they attended a finishing school together in the years before their coming-out. I’d not had the chance to meet her, however, as her father died when they were eighteen. Her come-out was delayed, as she was in mourning, so I did not see her during the season when I met Moira, and she was unable to attend our wedding. After that, she rather seemed to disappear. She married the Earl of Camden after her mourning was concluded and disappeared to the North until she was widowed. Moira ran into her at a bookshop last week and was overjoyed to restart their acquaintance. Moira insisted she come this week and we had to scramble to find another gentleman to make up the numbers. I think she invited Stanhope to be a balance.”
The fact that Moira was resuming a relationship explained why Lady Harcourt had been at the house earlier than most of the other guests. Henry supposed the two women wanted time to get reacquainted after so long. Their previous relationship also explained why Thomas intimated that they knew each other. The fact that she was a widow, and no one seemed to really know anything about her, was intriguing.
Dessert was set out at last, meaning dinner would finally be concluding. He forced a smile back onto his face as Jane exclaimed in delight about her adoration for whatever they were being served. It was going to be a very long week indeed.
* * *
Moira stood and announced that it was time for the ladies to retreat to the parlor for conversation while the men had their port. Grace breathed a sigh of relief.
Dinner was not unpleasant, but unused to spending time in social settings, Grace found it taxing. Moira had thoughtfully placed her between Mr. Bright and Mr. Stanhope, two amiable men who had been easy to converse with overall, thus easing much of her anxiety. She found Mr. Bright’s name to suit him, as he had a lively and witty personality, but it was Mr. Stanhope who monopolized most of her attention throughout the evening, informing her about his keen interest in birds. He was quite the bird-watcher and was excited to be in Kent, where a variety of fowl he rarely saw made their home along the marshes of the areas coastal landscape.
Grace had been both flattered and overwhelmed by his attention. She just wished his interests were a little more exciting. But it had been easy enough to listen and nod or ‘hmm’ in agreement every once and awhile. Even though she had shut down Moira’s suggestion of finding a new husband, she couldn’t help but wonder if she were still playing matchmaker, as it did not escape Grace’s notice that both men were unmarried. Now, though, she was happy to escape from such close quarters where conversation was expected. With the women, she could fade into the background as they gossiped with one another.
When the men rejoined them for the evening festivities—Moira had arranged for a renowned pianist to play for them—Grace noticed the duke when he entered the room. It was futile to linger on his presence, as he was far above her socially, but she was preoccupied thinking about him anyway. She worried that he would mention walking in on her with Thomas the night before. Even a hint of impropriety could hurt her chances of finding a good placement, which was why attending the house party so soon after her husband’s passing was foolish. Adding in word of an encounter that may look like a compromising situation could prove ruinous.
While Carrington had acted in her defense, seeming to understand that Thomas’s advances were unwanted, many in society would blame her for finding herself underdressed and alone with him in the first place. While she hoped an acquaintance of Moira’s would not think that way, she couldn’t be sure if he would say something that could harm her chance at securing a future for herself away from those who no longer wished to bother with her.
Even with her concerns, Grace admired how handsome he looked in his bottle-green coat and how broad it made his shoulders appear. Looking over, he caught her gazing at him. She turned away quickly, but not before noticing his repressed smile that brightened his gray eyes, making her blush.
Her attention was unpleasantly diverted, however, when she saw Thomas staring at her as well. He was whispering with another young man, presumably his friend, and both appeared to have been enjoying liberal amounts of the wine from dinner. She feared they were discussing her, as the friend was sneering in her direction while Thomas was laughing. Her face now burning, she was almost certain Thomas was talking about what happened last night, exaggerating the details and her level of willingness, as young men are wont to do. Feeling sick to her stomach, she unthinkingly joined the applause as the pianist was introduced.
The music was beautiful, but Grace hardly took it in as she worried about Thomas. Would he spread untrue rumors about her that would paint her as a loose and immoral woman? She was a widow, so some behavior would be overlooked and forgiven more freely, but not if the behavior was seen as egregious. She already had plenty working against her and could not allow rumors to spread too. It’s possible she was being paranoid, but she could not shake the thought and became more restless as the concert continued.
The only thing Grace could think of that might persuade Thomas to desist was his sister and the duke. And she certainly didn’t want to inform Moira, who was already going out of her way to support her and who may not take kindly to the news regarding her brother. But Carrington displayed a profound influence on him yesterday. Maybe she could talk with the duke and ask him to speak to Thomas on her behalf. She would have to pray the man was as good as Moira believed.
CHAPTER5
It was a beautiful day, but being the end of July, it was shaping up to be a scorcher. At just before noon, the sun was bright enough to make everyone seek the cover of shade. Henry squinted as he made his way to the garden, looking for Lady Harcourt. The grounds of Geffen House really were quite remarkable, and Henry loved exploring them whenever he came to visit. She had not specified where to meet within the garden, but he made his way toward the wisteria arch visible from the back of the house.
This morning he had been surprised to find a note from Lady Harcourt asking him to meet. She had written succinctly and with urgency:
Your Grace,
Please forgive my forward nature in writing you when we have barely been acquainted. I wish to thank you for coming to my rescue the other evening, and I must beg of you one more service to prevent irreparable harm in an already precarious situation. I ask you to meet me in the garden at noon.
Your grateful servant,
Lady Grace Harcourt, Dowager Countess of Camden
Henry noted how the writing became less refined at the end, and he did not wish for her to be in distress and would help if at all possible. He suspected the behavior he observed from Thomas last evening was what had prompted her to reach out to him. Henry had seen the young upstart laughing with his friend while gesturing toward Lady Harcourt, and he hoped he could ease her mind regarding his discretion. He was alarmed at the mention of this precarious situation. He was eager to see her.
As he approached the arch leading into the garden, Henry saw Lady Harcourt just inside, near a bench with her back facing him. He noticed the gentle curve of her neck, his eyes tracing it into her upswept hair that was now a burnished gold in the midday sun, contrasting with her creamy skin. His boots crunched on the gravel path as he entered the garden, and she started at the sound, quickly turning toward him.
“You startled me, Your Grace,” she stuttered with wide eyes as her hand lifted to clutch her heart. His eyes naturally followed the motion of her hand and he admired the swell of her breast. Reprimanding himself, he looked up at her face and saw that she had dark shadows beneath her eyes.
“I apologize, my lady. I did not mean to sneak up on you,” he said. “Are you well?” he asked, concerned by her pallid appearance.
“Yes, I am well,” she replied. “And it is not your fault. I have always spooked easily and should have known better than to have my back turned.” She seemed uneasy, but no harm was done.
