The servant nodded almost uncertainly as he took his leave and Grey wondered what he’d just agreed to. He was in his study attempting to work on some estate ledgers, but he found his thoughts were sadly distracted by the memory of Lady Araminta. He’d wanted to call upon her that morning, but he’d forced himself to refrain. He actually wasn’t quite sure how to approach her just yet. Nor was he prepared to deal with her sister’s wrath when he pleaded his case of matrimony.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened it to reveal his grandmother’s engagement ring. He held it up to the light coming in through the window. Even though it was snowing quite heavily outside and the sky was covered with gray clouds, the ring still sparkled with a certain brilliance. It was a lovely amber setting within a circle of diamonds. He remembered quite fondly his grandmother wearing the ring as well as the day she’d given it to him with the promise that he should only give it to the woman who had taken his heart. He never thought this day would actually come, but then he hadn’t ever met a woman like Lady Araminta Bevelstroke before now.
He didn’t care how long it took, or what he had to do to convince her to choose him as her husband, he only knew that he was determined not to take no for an answer.
“My lord?”
Grey sighed as he tucked the ring back in its box and tucked it within the secure pocket of his jacket. “I thought I made it clear I didn’t wish to be disturbed.”
The butler didn’t even have a chance to reply as a feminine voice intruded. “Perhaps the earl might make an exception for me.”
Grey’s interest was instantly piqued as Lady Isadora stood in the doorframe. He stood as he waved the servant away. “I will always make time for such a lovely lady,” he said smoothly.
The door was closed as Lady Isadora strode forward. She offered a brief curtsy as Grey motioned to the chair opposite his large oak desk. As she sat down, he did the same. Threading his hands before him on the top, he asked, “What can I do for you, my lady?”
She hadn’t removed her cloak, gloves or bonnet, so Grey assumed she didn’t intend to stay long. “I know Araminta snuck out to see you last night.”
His brow furrowed slightly. He was afraid something like that might happen. “I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do,” she countered. She placed her hands delicately in her lap. “I said some harsh words to her last night, and now she has her mind made up to move out. What I want to know is if your attentions toward her are sincere or if you look at her as just another dalliance.”
Grey thought of the ring in his pocket. “I can assure you that I have asked Araminta, on numerous occasions, to marry me. She has declined every time because of her devotion to you and her younger sisters.”
“Indeed.” Isadora smiled almost sadly. “I had the feeling that when we ventured to London that our time together would be short lived, but I knew we would eventually go our separate ways, wherever that might take us.” She eyed him steadily. “I think that you will make a fine match for her. Your holdings appear to be sound, and your annual income is quite substantial. And as long as you truly care for her, then you have my blessing.”
Grey was rather overjoyed to hear that he had finally won her over, although he couldn’t help but smirk when she spoke of his finances. “I take it you have been checking up on me?”
“I wouldn’t be a very good businesswoman, intent on living independently if I didn’t look into every investment that was presented to me,” she countered. “Including those involving a union with someone in my family.”
She got to her feet, and Grey followed suit. He held out his hand to her. “I have no doubt you will succeed in whatever you choose to do, Lady Isadora.”
She hesitated a moment and then reached out and shook his hand. “And I believe that you will make my sister very happy.” As they parted, she added, “Might I suggest announcing your engagement at the Gravesend ball on Christmas Eve?”
While Grey had Isadora’s approval, he had yet to fully win over Araminta. “Are you sure she will accept my hand this time?”
Isadora’s lips curved upward in what could only be called a devilish smile. “I have an idea about that…”
Araminta gently touchedthe hem of the bright red gown she was wearing. It was the same one she’d worn to the opera the night she’d met Lord Somers, but Isadora had said it was the “perfect” dress to wear to the Gravesend ball that night. It didn’t matter that the very sight of it caused a burning ache of longing in her chest. Or that, starting tomorrow, she would be moving into the boarding house where she would truly be alone. Most of her things were already packed and waiting by the foyer.
Calliope had refused to speak to her for several days, but she’d finally softened toward her and the tension between them had eased somewhat. Isadora had also begun to treat her with more respect, to the point they had begun to laugh together once more. However, Olivia was the one she was most concerned about, for since her unfortunate fall through the freezing Thames, she’d been more withdrawn than usual.
When she’d learned of Araminta’s plans to leave the townhouse, she’d hardly batted an eyelash, and now she claimed she had a headache and refused to attend the Gravesend ball, when Araminta and Isadora had high hopes that Olivia would find particular favor with the reticent, Duke of Gravesend, who had saved her life that fateful day. Unfortunately, Araminta decided that their matchmaking skills would have to be put on hold and finally gave in to her pleas to remain behind.
Araminta took one last look around the bedchamber that had become her new haven over the past few weeks, ever since they had chosen to leave their father’s former estate and embark on an exciting new venture to London.
Little had she known what had awaitedher.
With a deep breath, she headed downstairs, her hand trailing the bannister. Isadora and Calliope were already there, waiting patiently for her to join them.
Without a word, they walked outside together, one last united front as the Bevelstroke sisters, and Araminta’s eyes stung with emotional tears. However, she blinked them away and focused on trying to enjoy the evening ahead.
The Gravesend townhouse was located in London on the other side of the square, but since it was snowing again this evening and it wouldn’t be fashionable to arrive with a wet hem, nor without a proper conveyance to let them out at the front door, they took the carriage.
Once they finally entered the impressive, stately townhouse, they handed over their outerwear to one of the several footmen waiting and sought out their hostess. The Duchess of Gravesend looked quite similar to her dark-haired son, although her coiffure was threaded with silver and her demeanor was as elegant as Araminta would have imagined.
As Araminta approached her and they were introduced to the lady, the duchess’ green eyes lit up with recognition. “Ah, yes. I hope your sister suffers no ill effects from her fall through the ice?” she asked kindly, her expression sincere.
“She is quite well, thank you for asking,” Isadora replied. “However, Olivia was suffering a megrim and couldn’t join us this evening.”
