Ramsey snickered softly.
Grace raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
“I see.” Samantha nodded.
The viscount continued, “I imagine him to be much like your father, my dear. Once the waters have settled, he sees no need to rock the boat. After all, the one that would sustain damage would be him, and both your father and Lord Westhouse love their reputations far too much to put them in jeopardy when there is not a certain victory.”
“Well said,” Ramsey remarked.
Samantha tipped her head. “When did you get so astute?”
“Ach, I always have been. I just hide it well.”
“Very well,” Ramsey added, earning a glare from his friend.
Grace was still considering Ramsey’s words from earlier, one part not quite adding up. “But . . . if he was acting in jealousy, why ever did he take me from the ballroom? What part do I play in any of this? It doesn’t make sense.” She furrowed her brows, as she tried to think through all the plausible answers.
The viscount shifted in her peripheral vision, and she turned to see him give a rather meaningful look to Ramsey.
She turned to Ramsey to see his response.
“That is a very good question,” Ramsey replied.
Grace waited for the answer to the “very good question,” and when none seemed forthcoming, she turned to the viscount, who had just finished whispering to his wife.
“We’re going to give Ramsey a moment to speak to you, Grace.” The viscount and Samantha stood. Samantha gave a surprised and somewhat concerned smile to Grace, then followed her husband from the room, making a slight show of opening the door full wide and arching a brow before stepping into the hall.
“Curious.” Grace mumbled, then turned to Ramsey. “I’m expectantly awaiting your response, especially since it apparently needed the evacuation of the room to be heard.”
Ramsey chuckled softly, then turned in his chair to face her fully. “It seems Westhouse was far more astute than I gave him credit for.”
Grace nodded, her brow still furrowed.
“And was rather determined to continue to be a thorn in my side, and the only way to get to me was through my friends. He understood this, as it had been that way since our days at Eton. There is a strength in numbers, and I have quite loyal friends.”
“Indeed,” Grace agreed.
“He’d been waiting for an opportunity, and when Heathcliff presented you to society, it was like an open door. If Westhouse could get to you, then he knew I’d not stand by idly, but I’d help Heathcliff in anyway necessary.”
“That makes sense.” Grace twisted her lips. So, Westhouse’s interest in her was merely a tool to be used somehow to get to Ramsey. That had to be some deep-rooted resentment to go to such lengths. She said as much to him.
“It is indeed deeply rooted, and this is why.” Ramsey took a tight breath, and his expressive eyes held her captive in their gaze. “My mother died giving birth to me, so as I grew up all I had was my father. But he was a harsh, difficult, and exacting man. Perfection was the only acceptable way to live and I fell short time and time again. But the one thing my father hated most of all was scandal.”
Grace nodded, her heartbeat pounding fiercely, her intuition telling her that a deep truth was about to be revealed.
“So, growing up, I avoided scandal like the black plague, only to fail in an epic, Greek-tragedy-type of way with my first marriage. The scandal was monumental, and my father never forgave me for it. He simply reminded me that I’d always been a failure. You can imagine how that affected me.” He fell silent for a moment, as if reliving the blow.
“But what I didn’t realize, or at least piece together, was why my father hated scandal so much. Why he expected such perfection from me.”
Grace waited expectantly.
“Because I was to be his redemption.”
Grace frowned. How did a person become another’s redemption? It wasn’t possible.
“I can tell by your expression that you see the absurdity of it.”
“Yes,” Grace replied, watching his face, the way his slight smile illuminated his gaze.
