Grace woke with a start in a cold room and a strange bed. Rawden was gone.
Her heart sank. Rawden Voss was like the sun. When he shone his light on you, everything was good with the world. But when he turned away, a coldness crept into your heart. The virile, handsome earl had a hold over women, and she did not doubt there had been many. How could she ever hang onto such a man, gain his loyalty, and keep him happy, no matter how much she wriggled for his pleasure between the sheets?
Grace fell back on the bed as her utter surrender of the night before came back to mock her. She covered her face with her hands and moaned into them as a light tap came at the door, and then Mrs. Percy bustled in. Her face betrayed not one flicker of surprise to find Grace in Rawden’s bed.
‘Good morning, Lady Voss. Here’s a hearty breakfast to warm you and keep your strength up.’
Grace could have sworn the woman was stifling amusement. Perhaps she was used to coming into Rawden’s room to find signs of a passionate night – clothes strewn everywhere, rumpled covers, and a dazed, pink-faced woman in his bed.
‘What a storm that was, whipping up the estuary and sending branches crashing down all around the woods,’ she said. ‘And the master would go out in the dregs of it, first thing.’
Grace attempted indifference and failed. ‘And where did the master go?’ she wailed.
‘Oh, I am not privy to that information, but he left a note there on the tray.’
The note was short and to the point.
Grace,
I have business which takes me to the notary in the village. I trust you rested well. I will endeavour to return before nightfall if the tide allows.
Fond regards,
Rawden.
‘When he was a youngster, he had a habit of disappearing and reappearing whenever he felt like it, much to his father’s chagrin,’ said Mrs. Percy. ‘And it seems he has not changed.’
Mrs. Percy gabbled on as disappointment and anger soured Grace’s stomach. ‘Fond regards,’ indeed. She would give him, ‘Fond regards,’ when he returned. How dare he address her so formally after the heated activities of the night!
‘No doubt he will be back soon enough, Lady, and how could he not with such a lovely young bride here waiting for him? So do not fret.’
‘I am not fretting, nor shall I spend my time idly awaiting the Earl’s return. I shall breakfast and then be up and about my duties. I wish to know everything about Marshgrave, and then I mean to explore the island in its entirety.’
‘Oh, very well, but there’s a visitor come this morning.’
‘What visitor?’
‘A fellow from London - Dawes, I think his name is. One of your old servants, I believe.’
‘Good God. Do you mean Dawson?’
‘Oh, that’s it, yes. Forgive my impertinence, but a more gangly, awkward string bean of a thing you could scarcely find and with not a word of sense to be had from him. Been sent to bolster the help at Marshgrave, he is, or so the master informs me. Goodness knows why. We have shifted well enough for ourselves to this point. But everything changes when a new master takes the reins. They all want things done this way or that.’
***
Grace was confined indoors for the morning as the storm, which had borne witness to her surrender to Rawden, left its dregs lashing the windows with rain and hail. In high dudgeon, she sought out Dawson, who had been put to work piling firewood before the hearth in the library. He stiffened when he saw her, and his face turned pink.
‘What are you doing here, Dawson?’ she demanded.
‘I…er…the Earl bid me come to your employ, Mistress.’
‘You address an Earl’s wife as ‘Lady’, Dawson.’
‘Forgive me, Lady Voss,’ he sputtered.
‘And why should he engage you out of all the servants at my Uncle Charles’ house?’
‘Oh, Lady, forgive me. The Earl bid me keep an eye on the goings on at Grosvenor Square to pass on information about who came and went and so forth.’
