His Saving Grace Read online

  The young duke took pity on the proprietor, who would stay up as long as he remained downstairs. He stood from his table, nodded to the man, threw down ample coins to pay the man for putting up with his unusual requests and bizarre behavior this evening, then made his way up the stairs. Taking a deep breath, he paused outside the door to their shared chamber. He hoped she was in bed, covered up and fast asleep.

  Thomas had spent far too much time in the presence of the peerage these last years. He hadn't realized until this evening how the attitude of entitlement and self-worship had soaked into his skin and pervaded his soul. He'd had his anger as an excuse, sure. The way he'd been treating Grace, though, by ignoring her very basic needs, had been abominable. It had been no better than how Duke Mugsby treated his tenants.

  A part of him wanted to believe Grace truly had been in on a ploy to entrap him in marriage. If he knew she couldn't be trusted, then he would never doubt where he stood with her. If it turned out that she'd been innocent of duplicity… Despite the fact that he tried to wrestle it back into silence, hope burned deep inside him.

  A man would have to be a fool not to want a loving wife. His father had always told him no dukedom was meant to be run alone. Thomas wanted a wife who would help shoulder the burden, someone with whom he could share his concerns on those days when the weight of responsibility felt like it might crush him.

  Thomas would have never thought of Grace in terms of marriage. He'd always considered her as a child. Tonight, however, as he'd unbuttoned her gown and untied the stays of her corset, he'd realized something. Grace was most definitely not a child. Confound it all, why didn't her father give her a season and get her married off before now? His gut clenched in primal protest at the thought.

  Still not sure he could trust her, Thomas turned the knob and entered their chamber, one thought on his mind.

  She's mine now.

  When he stepped across the threshold, he saw Grace sitting at the table in nothing but her chemise, eating ravenously. She cast her eyes at him while in mid-chew, one hand holding bread wrapped around cheese, and the other holding a piece of ham.

  Swallowing her food down, she said, "I wasn't sure when you'd be back, and I couldn’t wait anymore. I was starving."

  In that moment, she was the Gracie he'd always known, the feisty neighbor kid who had new ideas far too big for the daughter of an earl. She'd never quite fit into the role society declared she'd been born into, and that was one of the things he'd always loved about her.

  Loved. Shaking his head, Thomas tried to clear the thought from his mind. Like a sister. Loved like a sister. Then she betrayed me.

  No matter how vehemently he repeated the phrase to himself, he couldn't see duplicity in her eyes. She looked fresh and unblemished by the world, artless and unaffected.

  Moving into the room, Thomas removed his jacket and untied his cravat. "Did you enjoy your bath?" he asked conversationally.

  "It was wonderful. Thank you for helping me with my dress." Grace took another bite, and Thomas watched her chew. Raven hair fell down her back in enticing waves. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand much as she'd done since she was old enough to eat at the table. Her mother had always been on her about proper comportment. He rather liked this Grace, despite the doubts he still harbored about her.

  Stepping behind the screen, Thomas considered the tub. He would have liked a bath, but wasn't sure he'd be comfortable sitting naked in the water with Grace on the other side of the screen in nothing but a chemise. Sighing, he splashed some fresh water from the basin onto his face and patted it dry with a towel. Coming back around the screen, he was surprised to see concern in Grace's eyes. "The water's awfully dirty because of me. I'm sorry it's not fit for your bath."

  "Don't worry about it. I bathed last night. I'm sure I'll survive. Besides, I'll just get dirty again tomorrow anyway." The irony of his words was not lost on Thomas.

  Waving her bread in the air, she asked, "Are you hungry? I saved some for you."

  Thomas shook his head and answered, "I ate below, so help yourself."

  She nodded and took another bite of bread and cheese. Then, artlessly, she said, "I'd rather hoped to be done and in bed before you returned. I feel quite immodest sitting here like this."

  With a chuckle, Thomas asked, "Would you prefer I undress as well so you aren’t alone in your immodesty?"

  Grace's eyes widened with surprise and a blush scorched across her ivory skin. "Thank you, but no. I think you're fine the way you are."

  Thomas smiled. He could feel the haze of anger lifting, clearing his vision so he could again see Grace for who he'd always believed her to be prior to the weekend of the house party. "I've been a heel."

  "You can say that again."

  "Will you forgive me?"

  "Did that ages ago," she said pertly.

  "I was angry about what happened."

  "You? Angry? Could have fooled me."

  The teasing tone of her banter swirled through the room like a rare perfume. Tempting. Tantalizing. Alluring.

  He'd been a clod these last weeks, and Grace was treating him much better than he deserved. Sitting down in a chair he said, "When my father died, I thought everything would be pretty straightforward. Go to London, take his place in the government, manage the estates. I was, unfortunately, wholly unprepared for the ton and its schemes."

  "You were different after you came back from London that first time, but you never said what happened. I thought it was grief for your father, and I didn't want to make you sad by asking."

  "Everywhere I went, there were women throwing themselves into my path. I was a duke."

  "Of course you were a duke," she said, puzzled. "How does that have anything to do with women?"

  Thinking back to his first weeks in London, Thomas said, "All parents want their daughters to marry well. Some parents are desperate. Because they are financially ruined, their daughter is unmarriageable, or maybe they are social climbers of the worst sort. It was like being at the butcher with everyone bidding on a prime side of beef. I was the side, and everybody wanted the best cut. I subsequently stopped going to social functions altogether. Being able to walk down a hallway without a woman trying to accost me and lure me into a room became nothing but a distant memory."

  "So," Grace asked, "problem solved?"

  Thomas shook his head. "The business of government takes place all over London. It's not exclusive to the House of Lords. A lot of policy took place at those social functions."

  "Please tell me you at least learned your lesson" she said, her green eyes glittering with humor, "and stopped walking down abandoned hallways?"

  With a derisive smile, Thomas said, "I eventually got the hang of it, but the better I got at avoiding difficult situations, the more aggressive women became about trying to entrap me. It would have been easier if I'd already been wed, but I was too young, and there was so much work that went into learning everything I needed to know. I couldn't let my father down. He'd groomed me to take over from the time I was little."

  "He was gone far too soon," Grace said. "You had a huge burden dumped on your shoulders for which you'd been no more than partially prepared. I prayed for you often during that time."

  "I'm fairly certain prayer and God's intervention are the only things that got me through." Shrugging dismissively, he said, "It was certainly nothing I did."

  "I'm sorry for not reaching out to you more after your father died. I should have been a better friend, but I was young. I thought that because I didn't know what to say, nothing I said could possibly be of any value."

  Thomas looked at Grace somberly and said, "Let's do each other a favor and leave the past in the past. What do you say?"

  "It sounds like a splendid idea," she replied with an emphatic nod.

  Thomas smiled and, changing the subject, asked, "Did I ever tell you about the time I got kidnapped?"

  Grace sat up straight at his words. "No. What on earth happened?"<
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  "A young lady well past the age of marriage and not quite attractive enough to draw male attention was in need of a husband. Her mother had become quite desperate. The mother paid a footman to kidnap me and take me to their townhome, where I was to be bound and gagged until the mother could arrange for the girl to be in the room with me so we would be forced to wed."

  "People actually do things like that?"

  "The footman, it turns out, had a conscience. He pulled the carriage over on the way to the family's home, unbound me, told me what was going on, and asked me to punch him hard enough to make it look like he put up a good fight so he wouldn't lose his job. You want to know his parting words to me?"

  "Naturally," Grace said with the hint of a smile.

  "He said, 'I wouldn't wish being a part of that family on anyone.'"

  "What did you do afterward?"

  Thomas relaxed and grinned at her. "I hired myself some protection."

  Grace tilted her head and regarded him inquisitively. "I've never seen you with a guard."

  "Of course you have. He fetched you something to eat last night."

  "Rupert is your protector?"

  Grace giggled, and Thomas said, "When you say it like that, it sounds rather ludicrous." Shaking his head at her continued laughter, he tried to explain. "Technically he's my valet, but we have a gentleman's understanding. He keeps women away from me at all costs, and he keeps his ear to the ground to look out for my best interests. In return, he is paid well and has my undying loyalty."

  "The two of you are friends," she said, tilting her head to the side and studying him like one might a new butterfly species just discovered.

  Thomas shrugged. "I am not altogether certain it would be proper for a duke and his valet to be friends."

  Grace laughed then. This was no small, ladylike chortle. It was fully developed laughter that rose up from deep down inside her soul. The sound was musical, and Thomas knew in that moment that he would spend the rest of his life trying to give his wife reasons to laugh.

  Once her laughter died down, she said, "Of course not, Your Grace. It is, though, perfectly acceptable for a duke and his guard to be friends." After a moment of silence, Grace said, "I understand now why you reacted the way you did."

  She took a bite of the ham as Thomas said, "What comes next is considerably more abhorrent." His words weren't alarming enough to cause such a reaction, but before he could continue, Grace was flailing about. He stared at her in stunned silence until she inadvertently slapped her hand against the table. The sound shocked him out of his stupor. He rushed to her aid, pulling her out of her seat and vigorously patting her on the back. Eventually he hit her back with enough force that a piece of ham was dislodged. The meat went flying across the room, landing in a half-chewed lump on the floor.

  As Grace struggled to catch her breath, Thomas said, "The dramatics might delay the news, Gracie, but they won't change what it is I have to say."

  "That was not for your benefit," she said between gasping breaths. "And did you have to hit me so hard?"

  Thomas helped her back to her seat and kneeled down in front of her. "Are you quite recovered?" he asked. When she nodded, he stood and returned to his own seat. "You're not going to like what I have to say."

  "Get on with it then," she said. "No good comes from dancing around the topic, whatever it is."

  "After I left your father's estate, I traveled to London and made some arrangements. I'm expected on the continent within the week."

  "Surely you can change your plans? Or… do you still believe I…?"

  Thomas shook his head. "Remember? We're leaving that in the past. I gave my word, and I need to honor it. My duty as a peer of this realm is to protect King and Country. Working with Wellington to battle Napoleon will be entirely worth it if it means we recapture that overstepping madman."

  "Oh." Grace's words were hesitant as she asked, "For how long?"

  Thomas cast his eyes around the room, not wanting to see the hurt in her eyes when he answered. "I'm legally bound for a year."

  "And I'm to stay in Northumberland the entire time?" There was no accusation in her voice, which only served to make Thomas feel worse about what he'd done during those three weeks of anger.

  "I made arrangements for you there, and, hard as it may be to believe, I do think you'll like the area."

  "It's quite far from my family."

  "I know. If things with Napoleon don't go as we expect, you'll be safer in Northumberland than you will be in Stafford." When she said nothing, he added, "I'm leaving Rupert with you."

  "No, you're not."

  "Yes, I am."

  "Are you daft? If you're ever going to need someone to protect you, it'll be if you're anywhere near Wellington."

  Thomas was warmed by her concern. It made him feel… possessive. "He was hired to keep me safe from marriage-minded women. Now that I'm married, I don't expect that to be a problem anymore." With a shrug, Thomas said, "I trust him to protect you in my absence, and so he's staying with you. He'll take on the role of butler for the duration." She glowered at him mutinously. "That's final," he added.

  "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

  Thomas hid a smile at her words. Gracie had never been one to back down from a fight. "You are correct," he replied. "It's late, and we should both get some sleep." When Grace's eyes shot to his, he saw fear there. Raising his hands he said, "Being angry all the time is exhausting. I want to get some sleep." Grace nodded and moved toward the bed, quickly climbing under the covers and turning so her back was to the middle.

  Thomas turned down the lantern and removed his shoes. Leaving his shirt and breeches on, he climbed in beside her and lay there on his back. Folding his hands beneath his head, he stared up at the shadows on the ceiling. The moon was bright enough tonight to make itself known, but not so bright as to give the shadows distinct shapes. Much as a child trying to find the creatures in the clouds, he studied the moving forms on the ceiling to look for anything remotely identifiable.

  As long as she lay there awake beside him, there was no hope of him getting any sleep.

  Chapter Six

  Grace woke slowly, stretched luxuriously, and snuggled further into her pillow. Wait a second. She opened her eyes and peeked. Sure enough, her head was not resting on a pillow. It was nestled on Thomas's shoulder. She wasn't sure what to do. Waking him was out of the question, and honestly, it felt so nice to lie there beside him. He can't yell at me when he's asleep.

  "It's fine, Gracie. I’m awake."

  Then again, maybe he won't yell at me at all today.

  His clear blue eyes were open and twinkling at her. "Well, maybe I’m not," she said before closing her eyes and faking a loud snore.

  "You didn't tell me you were going to be a bed hog."

  Grace glanced behind to her side of the bed. Sure enough, she'd scooted more than halfway across the bed. It was a wonder she hadn't shoved poor Thomas onto the floor. "In my defense," she said, "I'm not used to having a man in my bed."

  Thomas made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a growl. He sat up and said, looking at her, "I hope you don't talk to all the men like that."

  "Of course not, you simkin," she said. "Only the ones who sleep in my bed." Then, realizing how her words must have sounded, Grace clapped her hand over her mouth and said, "I didn't mean…" Oh bother! I think that was actually worse than saying I was doomed to life as a courtesan. When will I learn to think before I speak?

  Thomas laughed as he got out of bed. "How about, 'Only the ones I'm married to.' I think that might sound better."

  "Of course," Gracie said with an enthusiastic nod.

  Thomas stepped behind the screen and began changing into fresh clothes for the day. He washed his face and shaved his morning whiskers. Calling out to Grace, he said, "It's time to get ready for the day. We already slept in more than we should have."

  "How much longer until we get there?"

  "We'll have at least one m
ore night at an inn, but if we push hard, we should make it there before the next night."

  "What's the name of your estate there?"

  "Castle Felton."

  "Is it really a castle?" Her voice was filled with curiosity and wonder.

  "Indeed it is. It didn't come into our family until my grandfather's lifetime. Still, it dates back over five hundred years."

  "Has anyone in your family ever lived there?"

  Thomas came back around the screen fully dressed and ready for the day. "My grandfather had a sister who never married. She became eccentric in her later years, and I believe she was sent to live out her life there."

  "In exile," Grace said flatly. "Because everyone thought she'd gone mad." So I'm being exiled to an asylum. Why does this not surprise me? He's been telling me I'm cracked for at least the past fifteen years.

  "It's a beautiful place," Thomas said with a wry grin. "I wouldn't mind spending summers there if it weren't so far from London." He glanced up and saw Grace sitting in the middle of the bed, her chemise on and a sheet gathered around her. He cleared his throat and abruptly said, "I'll go find Rupert and see if he's managed to find you something suitable to wear. Get as ready as you can, and I'll hopefully be back straightaway." Sparing a look at the table that held not much more than bread and some now-dried cheese, Thomas added, "We don't have time to eat before we leave, but I'll make sure we take some food with us."

  As he reached for the door, Grace's voice stopped him. "Maybe you could ride in the carriage today. It might be nice to share the space when no one's angry. I'd hate for you to go off to fight Napoleon with more memories of us fighting than of us being friends." I won't let him see my hurt if he says no, but, by all that's good and holy, he'd better say yes.