His handsome face fell into a mocking pout. ‘Oh, don’t be so uncharitable, Grace. Much like your Uncle Charles, I overplayed my hand at cards that night and bitterly regret offending you. I can only offer my utter infatuation as an excuse.’
He smiled warmly at her, and it lit up his face. Indeed, it was the kind of face that would make most young ladies weak at the knees. But Grace saw only calculation in his expression as he continued in a teasing, over-familiar tone.
‘Can we not let bygones be bygones and start afresh, dear heart? Will you forgive me? You must, for I am not as bad as you have painted me.’
Perhaps if she placated him, he would leave. ‘I suppose so. But I wish to be alone, and I ask that you leave me to grieve.’
‘But I cannot leave until you hear my offer, and it is the best you can hope for now. You will have a house in Mayfair, servants, jewels, more lavish dresses than you can wear, though you’ll not need to wear much in my company. You will have the best life has to offer. I will call upon you whenever I am in town. Whilst I am away, you can live as you please as long as you do not take any other man into your bed. We can have a merry old time, Grace. I know we got off to a bad start, but I can make you happy if you let me, and I will find ways to make you grow fond of me in time.’
Caville Sharp was confident, so sure that she would leap at the chance of comfort and ease. Nowhere on his face was any element of doubt, or even embarrassment, at his appalling proposal.
Grace took a deep breath. ‘Do you think I will throw my honour at your head for a few trinkets just because you are rich? And how on earth can you make me happy when you are nothing but a snake?’
The insult bounced off him. ‘Oh, you have no idea. There are many ways to put a smile on that serious but lovely face of yours. And what good is honour when you have nothing and no one? If you come to your senses, I can make you forget the tragic news from Waterloo. For an earl’s son to slip through your fingers must be very galling indeed. A secret betrothal, wasn’t it?’
‘How do you know that?’ Uncle Charles had told Caville. It had to be him.
Caville side-stepped her question. ‘I doubt this so-called betrothal would ever have come to fruition. Voss’s father, the Earl of Harston, would have put a stop to it. But you seemed to swallow the lie.’
‘It was no lie. William would never lie. Now, you may leave, Mr. Sharp.’
‘So, you defend him. But come now, do not try to let on that you actually loved him. In your brief courtship, you must have seen what a dull dog he was. Rich, I’ll give him that, but hardly a sparkling wit. Not the kind to excite any great anticipation for your wedding night.’ He frowned, holding her gaze. It was as if he slithered inside her soul with those cool grey eyes. ‘Or am I mistaken, Grace? Did you send him off to war with your honour as a prize to seal the bargain, as it were?’
‘Get out,’ said Grace, grabbing a heavy candelabra from the table beside her. ‘If you do not, I will give you the same as you got last time.’
Caville got up and strolled casually towards her with such a cold look on his face that, suddenly, she was frightened. She could not move. He gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and put his mouth to it.
‘My pride will not stand rejection, Miss Howden,’ he whispered. ‘Your uncle has promised you to me, and sooner or later, I will find you in desperate circumstances, and then I might not be so generous with my terms, and you will have a rougher initiation into my service.’ He ran his thumb down her cheek and touched her lips briefly with his before grabbing his hat and leaving her to her thumping heart and burning cheeks.
Grace brought her hands to her face and paced. ‘No, no. This cannot be,’ she murmured to herself. She rushed in Caville’s wake to make sure the door was bolted behind him, but when she hurried down the stairs, he was gone, and Mrs. Talbot was opening the door to another caller.
A man stood on the threshold, dark and tall, wearing regimentals. He rushed inside, his face rigid with anger.
Chapter Fifteen
Grace gasped and gripped the bannister before her legs gave way. As for the man, his mouth fell open. He faltered and then rushed forward to stand before her.
‘I am Captain Rawden Voss,’ he barked, with no effort at civility.
‘You,’ she said.
‘William Voss was my brother, and I have come to talk of him.’ His face was tight with tension. The words hissed from gritted teeth. ‘Forgive me for not sending word of an intention to visit. I was not sure that I would be received,’ he snarled.
Rawden Voss’ mouth had been on hers, his hands too. The humid night of Lady Blanchard’s rout flooded back – the smell of jasmine carried on the breeze, his dark, devilish voice, and his mouth, teasing, coaxing her towards sin and damnation. And she had entered a secret betrothal to his brother. What must he think of her?
‘'Miss Howden?’ he said, snapping Grace back to the present and his dark bulk, filling the hallway. ‘Might we speak alone on this most private of matters.’ He glanced dismissively at Mrs. Talbot and leant in, lowering his voice to a whisper. ‘I feel it best your sheepdog over there does not witness what I have to say on several subjects, including a certain rout in early summer.’
Heat rose in Grace’s face as she remembered the slide of his lips on hers, the shame of that kiss, the throb of lust in her belly. Somehow, she held on to her composure.
‘Mrs. Talbot, please leave us,’ she said brightly, and the good lady bobbed and left with one last withering look at their fearsome visitor.
Grace led the way up to the parlour. It seemed too small a room to contain Rawden Voss as he began pacing before the fireplace without looking at her. ‘Won’t you take a seat, Mr. Voss,’ she said.
‘It is Earl Voss now. My father died recently,’ he said, giving her a bleak look.
‘Oh. I am sorry,’ she said, pitying him for the loss of both brother and father.
That pity was quickly dispelled when he replied, ‘My father and I did not get along. He was not fond of me, nor I of him.’ With no further explanation on that subject, he continued pacing, and so Grace held her tongue.
