Taylor opened the door, smiling in recognition, and welcomed her warmly. She asked after his family and was thus engaged when Mr Stone approached.
‘Miss Skye, lovely to meet you again,’ he said, bowing smoothly and taking her hand to place a kiss upon it.
Grace, flabbergasted by his overly familiar manner, withdrew her hand quickly—but not quickly enough. A frisson of pleasure shot through her at his touch. She felt her cheeks burn but was thankful that the cover cream Betty had made would camouflage it.
Determined not to make a fool of herself again, she dropped into a careful curtsy and, with a steady voice—thankfully—replied to his enquiries. It annoyed her that he seemed to expect her return, and she would have liked to refuse his offer just to shake his overconfidence slightly. But alas, as he escorted her into the study, she settled into a chair and began her rehearsed speech.
‘Mr Stone, I would like to accept your offer to work with you in setting the Estate back in order, but I have a condition...’ She waited with bated breath.
‘Naturally, Miss Skye, I expected no less. Pray, continue.’ He smiled—a little cynically, she thought.
‘As you know, we have no male relatives to help us at present, and although, by the grace of God, we are comfortable, I regret that my younger sister, who has turned seventeen, has been dealt a poor hand. You see, we had hoped she would have the chance to attend a season in London and marry, but due to our current circumstances, this has become difficult.’ Hesitating slightly, she forged on. ‘I... I was hoping you might ask Lord Armitage if he would be willing to sponsor her for a season.’
He laughed—a hearty, deep laugh that, for some reason, tugged at Grace’s heart. If it was even possible, it made him more handsome. It struck her that laughter might be rare for him.
‘Is that all? You could have asked for the sun and the moon for yourself, considering the service you rendered. Instead, you ask for nothing for yourself—only for your sister?’ He cocked his head as he looked at her, curiosity flickering across his face. ‘Miss Skye, you are full of surprises. I thought you were about to ask me for something else! I am certain your request will be no problem, and His Grace would be happy to oblige.’
‘Even so, Mr Stone, I would not like to presume and would be grateful if you could write to him.’
‘Ah, yes, of course. But are you not forgetting something, Miss Skye?’
Grace’s brows knitted in confusion.
He edged closer towards her in his seat and, to her surprise, said, ‘What about you? I wonder at you asking for your sister while seeking nothing for yourself.’
‘I don’t know what you mean, sir.’
‘Do you not desire to have a season, Miss Skye? To marry?’
Now it was Grace’s turn to chuckle. ‘You jest, sir. I am far too old to marry now—I am more of a chaperone to my sister.’
He frowned but said nothing more than, ‘Yes, of course. You must at the very least join her in London to chaperone. For now.’
With those enigmatic words, Grace set an appointment to begin work, provided Lord Armitage agreed to her condition.
Relieved that he had not dismissed her request outright, she began to relax and partook in some refreshments with Mr Stone. He seemed interested in learning about her small family, and in her relaxed state, she was happy to oblige. As she described Heather, she became more animated. ‘Heather loves to play the pianoforte, although it has not been possible due to the lack of an instrument at our cottage. It doesn’t stop her from entertaining us with a song or two in the evenings. Getting her to sit quietly, however, is the real challenge.’ She laughed lightly. ‘We usually have to tempt her with cakes. I recommend this if you ever find yourself in need of peace.’
‘I will certainly keep this valuable piece of information in mind.’ He smiled back. ‘What about you, Miss Skye? Do you play?’
‘I used to...’ she replied but could not explain to him that music had lost its appeal since Mama passed.
‘I would love to hear you sometime. I have a feeling there is more than meets the eye here too.’ Slightly rattled, she worried his comment might have a dual meaning. Taking this as her cue, Grace took her leave for the day.
A FEW DAYS LATER, Aletter arrived bearing Lord Armitage’s seal, affirming that her conditions would be met. In addition, the Duke had agreed to fully finance the season. Their attire was to be purchased in London by the best modistes. The Skye household was ecstatic.
Heather was pleasantly surprised and thanked Grace sweetly. She was determined to put Mr Smith behind her and find a suitor who truly wished to marry her. Betty, meanwhile, was consumed with talk of gowns.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Betty, enough about lace trims and fabric swatches!’ Grace responded testily after five straight hours of discussing Heather’s come-out. ‘Give me some peace, will you? I need to finish the sewing.’
But nothing she said dampened Betty’s enthusiasm. The woman simply left the room—no doubt to find her next victim.
Grace, however, was preoccupied. Mr Stone invaded her thoughts far more than she liked. These meetings would only make matters worse.
She did not know why she felt drawn to him, yet the thought unsettled her. Gentlemen were not in the habit of noticing an impoverished spinster, and she was not accustomed to such attention. She knew he could have ladies lining up at his door.
Grace had thought her dowdy appearance would prevent any temptation or attachment from forming on his side. In fact, she had relied on this. She hoped he would treat her indifferently. However, she knew this was not the case. In both their meetings, Mr Stone had made her feel as though she were the only woman in the world. His attention towards her was irritatingly focused. Grace groaned inwardly—how would she survive his onslaught of intense looks and compliments?
He might be naturally charming and overly friendly without it affecting his heart in any way, but Grace feared for her own. That fear fuelled her desire to protect herself—but how? Then she remembered her mother’s frequent warnings about falling for a handsome face and charm. She had always said a man’s character was what truly mattered.
