“Isn’t it the same for you?”
“No—I remembered him from when I came out. He didn’t remember me well at all.”
“My dear, he was still in his twenties then. A boy in many ways. I am quite sure he is not the same gentleman he was then.”
Did she not really love him then? Did she only love who she thought he was? “Yes, I see. I suppose it will all work out.”
“Of course it will, my dear. Do not be upset if his ardor cools after you have been married for a while. It is normal for gentlemen, even the best of them, to have theirchères amiesand, of course, you must not expect him to be so attentive of the children. Once you are married and the guardianship has been established, he will not need to spend so much time with them.”
Grace hadn’t thought of that, and she should have. It happened to so many women. Her spirits sank lower. How could she have been so stupid to believe she could have what Phoebe and Anna had?
She was trapped. And the worst part of it was she’d trapped herself. Could she even enjoy the short time they’d have before he turned to another woman?
“You’re right, Aunt Almeria. I can expect nothing more.” She rose and went to the window. Grace stopped herself from crying, still tears pooled in her eyes. She took out her handkerchief. It wouldn’t do to allow Worthington to see her like this. He’d hold her in disgust sooner if she became one of those women forever weeping and fainting. Maybe if she distanced herself from him. Then his eventual betrayal wouldn’t be so hard to manage.
“Grace, my love.” His deep voice washed over her.
Drawing on her breeding, she smiled brightly, before turning to greet him. “Are you ready?”
His eyes narrowed. “If you are. I thought you might like to rest for a while.”
“No, no, indeed,” she responded coolly. “I never sleep in the afternoon. Although, I would like some time to myself.”
The confusion in his deep blue eyes cut her to the core.
“Very well, if that’s what you wish, I’ll escort you home.”
Maintaining a cool smile, she nodded. “Thank you, Worthington.”
As they were bidding her aunt and uncle good-bye, her aunt said, “Remember what I told you, and you will not be disappointed.”
The smile on Grace’s face felt rigid as if it would crack if she wasn’t careful. “Thank you, Aunt Almeria, I shall.”
Matt—no, Worthington—Grace must remember to distance herself—glanced down at her. His brows drew together. Her heart skipped a beat, and she wanted to flee. Instead, she continued to smile.
* * *
He wanted to scowl. He greatly preferred his sometimes happy, sometimes panicked, but always passionate love to the coolly distant lady on his arm. What had her aunt said to her? How could he find out? He doubted Grace would tell him. But he knew three women he could ask.
On the way back to Berkeley Square, they made small talk about nothing. Once they arrived at Stanwood House, he ascertained that his stepmother had gone home after having been assured by Cousin Jane that she could take charge of the children. The house was strangely quiet. He missed the shrill voices and thumping feet. Matt kissed Grace’s hand and left her in the hall.
His long strides took him across the grassy square and into his house. “Thorton, where is her ladyship?”
“Gone out, my lord. She doesn’t expect to be back until late.”
He started to walk away and turned. “You may wish me happy. Lady Grace has agreed to marry me on Tuesday next.”
His butler bowed. “Then I do wish you happy, my lord. We shall look forward to your nuptials.”
He grinned boyishly. “Don’t smile now.”
Thorton’s face was a mask. “Smile, my lord?”
“You’re an old fraud.”
“As you say, my lord.”
Matt left the hall. News of his marriage would run through the house like fire. He glanced at the clock. Not even time for tea. After a few hours, his sisters returned. He kissed them good night. Selecting a book, he began to read, but soon drifted off to sleep.
