‘Heather, you cannot sleep in my room tonight. You flail about like a fish in your sleep—last time, you left a bruise the shape of your foot on my back!’
Heather moaned. ‘But I cannot sleep in my room! It’s too big, and I keep hearing footsteps in the corridor. Betty said these old houses can be haunted!’
She stood her ground, refusing to be shooed away.
Thinking fast, Grace changed tactics. ‘Very well. I needed to speak to you about... ladies’ things anyway. Better you learn about them now, before you find a husband.’
Heather frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’
Grace took a bold approach. ‘Do you know where babies come from?’
The velvet curtain twitched.
Grace grabbed Heather’s shoulders and turned her away from it, lest she spot a pair of very expensive boots peeking out from underneath.
Heather shifted uncomfortably. ‘Gracy, I do not want to —’
Grace pressed on. ‘Remember Bessie the cow, when she was birthing her calf? Well, humans are much the same —’
Heather’s eyes widened in horror. ‘But that was awful! The calf was huge! You can’t mean—’ She trailed off, looking down at her own body as though just realising something dreadful.
‘And do you know how they get there?’ Grace asked, schooling her expression into grave seriousness.
Heather turned bright red. ‘I—I think I should go to bed now. We can talk about this some other time...’
She fled so fast she did not notice the curtain shaking.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Grace locked it and pulled back the velvet drapes.
Lord Armitage stood grinning from ear to ear, head cocked to the side, one brow arched in clear amusement.
‘Did you just attempt to give your sister the marital act talk?’ He tutted playfully. ‘I think you need a lesson yourself—you did a poor job of it. The poor girl will be traumatised.’
Now it was Grace’s turn to blush furiously.
‘I had to get her out of the room! She’s stubborn. If I had not scared her, you would still be standing behind those curtains until daybreak! You should be thanking me, mister!’
She worried her lip, glancing at the door. ‘I will speak to her properly later...’
‘Well,’ he mused, ‘if you need help with the wording, I would be delighted to assist.’ His voice was thick with mischief.
Grace’s lips twitched, but she managed to school her features into a suitable scowl. ‘No, thank you. Now—what did you want to speak to me about?’
All traces of playfulness vanished. He turned to the window, staring out into the night.
His voice was low, serious. ‘I am once again in need of your help.’
Something about his tone made her walls soften. ‘Are you in trouble?’ she asked, stepping toward him.
He turned back to face her. ‘I am not in any trouble, sweet—not yet, anyway.’ He bumped his shoulder lightly against hers, catching her off guard.
His light-heartedness was infectious. She rolled her eyes but smiled.
‘Alright. So what has happened since we last left off? Tell me everything!’
A slow smile crept onto his face.
‘There you are! I knew your curiosity would come out eventually.’
