‘Now, there, you are uncharitable to me, Grace.’
Rawden gave a quick bow and took his leave.
Damn the man. Grace flopped onto the bed. How infuriating. One minute, he was devouring her with his eyes, and the next, he could not wait to leave. She cursed herself for a fool for trying to seduce him and a worse fool for wanting to when he only used her when it suited him. What about her needs, her desires? Grace lay back, staring at the pure white of the plaster ceiling. The breeze coming in the window did absolutely nothing to cool her heated face or the rush of lust pulsing low in her belly. Grace clutched her hand between her legs until it calmed.
Worst of all, she now had a cursed ball to go to.
***
James Hardy’s family turned out to be far grander than Grace had supposed, their house a curving façade of pure white offset with Grecian columns. The ballroom was vast and packed with elegant guests, and for some reason, they all turned as one and fell silent when she and Rawden entered. Grace’s face burned under many pairs of eyes as Rawden introduced her to Mr. and Mrs. Hardy and their daughter, Prudence – a lively young woman who greeted Grace with gushing enthusiasm.
‘How lovely to finally meet you. I had despaired of Rawden ever finding a woman willing to put up with him,’ she teased, with a smirk at Rawden.
‘Oh, my bride was far from willing, and I had to kidnap her and steal her away before she said yes to me,’ he replied with a wink.
‘Oh, Rawden, you are too shocking for words. Is he not, Grace? May I call you Grace. I would like us to be friends, and if you come to Brighton for a season, it will be so diverting.’
Grace glanced at Rawden. Brighton? She had heard nothing of a plan to go there. And she was surprised to see him so warm and at ease with Prudence when he was usually so snarling with people in general. A spurt of jealousy rose in her.
‘We really must mingle, Prudence, and your other guests are piling up behind us,’ whispered Rawden.
‘Oh, very well. But I will find you later and interrogate Grace as to what kind of husband you are,’ said Prudence. As Rawden hurried Grace away, Prudence called out, ‘And since when did you mingle, Rawden?’
‘Yes, Rawden, since when did you mingle?’ said Grace with a frown.
He drew himself up. ‘I have been known to when the fancy takes me, and this might also shock you. On rare occasions, I have been known to cut an elegant figure on the ballroom floor. And this is one of those occasions.’ Rawden took Grace’s hand and swept her out into the midst of the whirling couples.
‘Rawden, what are you doing?’ she cried.
‘Dancing with my wife, who I must say looks enchanting tonight.’
‘I wish you would not.’
‘Why? Don’t you know how to dance, Grace? Just give yourself up to your partner.’
The look in Rawden’s eyes belied his true meaning. ‘I do dance, but not terribly well.’
‘But you look extremely well, which makes up for it. All these people want an eyeful of you, so let them take their fill, and they might leave us be and move on to other fodder for gossip.’
‘Very well. I will try not to step on your toes.’
A minute later, Grace did just that, and though Rawden winced, he hid his pain well and laughed it off. He was graceful and light-footed, and she felt like a clumsy oaf, but his strong arm on her waist and tight grip on her hand guided her expertly. Rawden stared down at her throughout, his lips mere inches from hers, making Grace giddy with longing. He was so fine in his evening clothes of black, and he had even donned a colourful waistcoat for the occasion – royal blue embroidered with gold. Not being able to touch him was delicious torture.
‘You look very well this evening,’ she said. ‘You almost seem happy, Rawden.’
‘And why should I not be when I have a wife I can take great pride in? You are lovely tonight, Grace. I must confess I feel my good intentions of keeping my distance slipping away from me. You might have to lock your door tonight.’
The music ended. His lips were almost on hers. If Rawden touched her, she would burst into flames, and in that moment, she would have let him do anything he wanted, anywhere he wanted. Such was her passion for him.
Just when Grace thought he would kiss her in front of the entire ton, they were interrupted by James Hardy crashing into their embrace. ‘Rawden, you hound. You cannot hog your wife all night. I demand a dance.’
Rawden passed her to Hardy’s embrace with good grace. ‘See you take good care of her, and mind your toes.’
Grace was whisked out to dance and could hardly draw breath while Hardy bombarded her with compliments about her gown and how happy she seemed to have made Rawden. He was a friendly, jolly kind of man, lively, like his sister, and Grace warmed to him. He lapsed into silence for a while, and Grace concentrated on not stepping on his toes. She caught sight of Rawden, laughing at something Prudence was saying, smiling along in easy conversation with Hardy’s parents and others. It was strange to see him amongst friends as he had always seemed such a loner. Her heart twisted with resentment at having to come into society and share him, and suddenly, Grace felt wholly unworthy of her rich, handsome husband.
Hardy spoke, snapping her out of her mood. ‘I must tell you that my surly friend, Rawden, seems to have softened under your care. I hope he makes you as happy as you have made him.’
‘He is a most generous and considerate husband. I have no complaints.’
