Her hands fluttered in his as he led her to a sofa and sat in the chair next to it. His voice was low. “I am sorry. I will try not to do it again, but I want you so desperately.”
“And you don’t think I want you just as much?” She searched his eyes. “I yearn for you.”
“I know you do. I can tell by the way your breath quickens and your skin glows.” Bringing her hands to his lips he kissed one then the other. “Can you forgive me?”
“Yes, yes, but may we talk about something else before we . . . ?”
What a fool he was to have distressed her. “Tell me about this tendre you had for me.”
A deep blush rose from her chest to her cheeks, and her summer-blue eyes softened. “As you already know, I’d just come out. Although we danced, I don’t think you really ever noticed me. No other gentleman made my heart race like you did.” Grace glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “Because of that, I didn’t give up hope. I turned down a few offers and decided to wait until autumn. Yet for some reason I can’t remember, we didn’t come for the Little Season. The next Season, I didn’t see you at all. Of course the following autumn and spring, I was in mourning for both my parents.”
That must have been the year he’d eschewed all entertainments that included marriageable young ladies. Finally remembering when he’d seen her, he took her hand and kissed it. “I did notice you. I was young and not ready to marry.”
“That is what Phoebe said.”
Matt scoffed. “I’d wager it is not all Phoebe said.”
She glanced up shyly. “But you didn’t recognize me when we . . .”
“It would be more accurate to say I couldn’t place you. I knew I’d seen you somewhere.”
Grace smiled, and his heart lightened.
“My lady, Lord and Lady Evesham have arrived.” Her butler bowed.
Grace rose. “Please show them in, Royston, and asked that tea be brought.”
She and Worthington went to greet them.
Phoebe entered the room, glanced at him, and went straight to Grace. “Am I to wish you happy?”
“Yes, but we—we—well, it is so sudden.”
“I understand.” Phoebe took a chair. “You need a plan.”
“Exactly so.” Grace’s smile trembled on her lips. “You’ve met Charlotte. I’d like to introduce you to my cousin, Miss Carpenter.”
“My lady.” Jane curtseyed.
Phoebe greeted Jane, smiling.
After the rest of them disposed themselves on chairs and sofas, tea was brought in and Grace poured.
Phoebe took her cup. “Tell me, do you have any ideas yet?”
Grimacing, Matt said, “Of sorts. My stepmother is not happy about it though.”
Raising her brows, Phoebe took a sip of tea. “Yes well, Lady Worthington is a very high-stickler, and she is bringing out a daughter. One cannot be too careful. Tell me your scheme, and I’ll give you my honest opinion.”
“I plan to put it about—that’s where you come in, Marcus—that I fell instantly in love with Grace and intend to pursue her. Grace will resist for a while.” He glanced at her and couldn’t keep his voice from deepening. “A very short while and then agree to marry me.”
Grace took one of the ginger biscuits. “Phoebe, you may let it be known that I harbored a tendre for Worthington years ago, but we didn’t meet again after my first Season.”
“Hmm, it may work.” Phoebe took a small cake and bit into it. “I have only a few details to add. Worthington, you must have had an attraction to Grace but, in the way of all young men, thought you had time. Then successive tragedies struck her family, and you did not meet again until you saw her at Lady Bellamny’s soirée.”
Worthington nodded. “I have no objection to that. Marcus?”
“Far be it for me to hinder a man in his path toward marriage.” He grinned. “I’ll help in any way I can.”
