It was true, there were some things Grace need not deny herself. After all, no one was going to take the children away because she dressed well. “Yes, I believe you’re right. Just because I’m not spending time in Town doesn’t mean I need to look like a provincial.”
Bolton put away the garments. “You still need to buy stockings, material for chemises, and more gloves.”
“I’ll attend to it to-morrow. Get a list from May for Charlotte.” Grace removed the bonnet, handing it carefully to her maid. Until she could come up with something better, that hat was her only form of disguise.
* * *
The week passed quickly. She bought a phaeton for Charlotte and a curricle for herself, as well as one large town coach and a smaller one. She also gave in to her temptation for a landau. Even ifsome peoplethought it was an old woman’s carriage. “Truly, Phoebe, it will be so practical with all the children.”
Phoebe’s eyes danced. “If you say so.”
Grace snoodled around the pale yellow conveyance. “It is, and it seats six, maybe even seven. The top goes up and down, so it may be used no matter the weather. I assure you, it’s just what I need, and I’ll require more horses as well.”
“You’re in luck, my uncle Henry is in Town, and he has a very good eye. Make a list of what you want, and I shall ask him to procure them for you.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”
Her friend laughed. “No, no, it’s my pleasure, and I have had a lot of fun.”
Grace leaned back against the landau. “I shall also need more grooms.”
“Sam, my groom, shall help you. I’ll send him round to Herndon House.”
One day when Charlotte and Aunt Almeria were on morning visits, Grace visited Stanwood House to reacquaint herself with the London housekeeper, Mrs. Penny, an old retainer Grace could not bear to let go. After all, she would rather have the house occupied when the family was not in residence.
Other than coming to London to inspect the renovations last autumn, Grace had not been in Stanwood House since before her mother died. Mrs. Penny had done the best she could with only a skeleton staff. Though they’d need at least a dozen or so more servants for the Season, Grace had agreed to hire the contingent of maids Penny needed to reopen the large town house a few months earlier.
Two days before her brothers and sisters were due to arrive, Grace inspected the house and was pleased to see Royston in residence.
Mrs. Penny curtseyed. “It is all as it should be now, my lady. I’ve already had the house cleaned and aired. I hope the maids I’ve hired meet with your approval.”
“Thank you, Penny. I was in a worry we wouldn’t have it all done before the children got here. Lord knows we can’t do it afterward.” Grace turned to her butler. “Please hire more footmen if you find a need. Neep has taken the new grooms and stable boys in hand. With Cook remaining at Stanwood Hall, I’ve hired a French chef for the Season. He’ll come this afternoon. Ask him to have the menus ready for my approval to-morrow.”
Penny glowered. “If you’re sure, my lady.”
Grace raised a brow. Penny, for good reason considering one of her nephews died in the war, may not like the French, but insolence was one thing Grace would not tolerate. “Yes, quite sure. He is the relative of Lady Evesham’s chef and known for his steady temperament. I’ll go back to Grosvenor Square and have our trunks sent over.”
After taking a quick tour of the house, Grace set off on foot, followed by her footman, Harold. Resisting the temptation to amble along the tree-lined path through the square, which was lovely, but would take her longer, she dutifully turned left toward Davies Street. She was only two houses down the street when a gentleman, several girls, and a large Great Dane exited one of the houses on the opposite side of the square from Stanwood House.
Oh, no. It took her only the matter of a second to recognize the man.
Worthington.
He and his sister were striding in the same direction Grace was. Her heart raced and she averted her face. Grateful for her bonnet, she picked up her pace, hoping to pass out of the square and toward Mount Street before Worthington reached the corner.
But then the brim of her hat hid them. Her footman was too far behind her to ask where they were, and what could she say in any event?How far away from the other group am I? I’m running away from the man who wants to marry me?
Grace bit her lip. If she dashed down the alley behind the houses Worthington would see her. Her mouth dried, and she couldn’t swallow. Fervently praying she’d reach the corner of Davies and Mount Streets before they did, she clasped her reticule more tightly and sidled toward the inside of the pavement.
It was then that everything went horribly wrong.
As she tripped over a massive paw and started to fall, a strong hand caught her arm. Heat seemed to radiate from him, drawing her to him.
“Duke, stand. I’m terribly sorry, ma’am, he wasn’t paying attention to what was in front of him.”
Worthington’s deep voice caressed her. It was all Grace could do to keep from turning toward him. Her arm tingled from his touch, and the rest of her wanted to fall into his arms.
Then fear, her familiar companion of late, pushed aside her desire for him. She’d lose everything that was important. If she spoke, he’d recognize her voice. All Grace could do was nod and mumble, making sure to keep her hat-brim between them. She made a motion to wave them on.
