“Matt, that is not true, and don’t you ever repeat it. I was a married lady, with more than enough pin money to see to all my desires. I had my children and you to keep me company. Now, if you will excuse me, I find I have some duties to attend to.” She swept regally out of the room.
He shook his head. It wasn’t true. She loved his father, and he didn’t love her. When he’d been home, he was always attentive, but he had wanted more sons, and she’d given him daughters. Matt confronted his father once after he’d married Patience. Father admitted that he couldn’t be at Worthington Hall without thinking of Matt’s mother, and he never brought Patience to London because Worthington House had been Mama’s pride and joy.
Widowhood had taken the sting out of Patience’s marriage to his father. They did say widows were the most fortunate of ladies. He didn’t want that to be true for Grace. He wanted her to be happy married to him. Matt stood. He needed answers sooner rather than later. Returning to the front hall, he donned his coat. Thorton handed him his hat and cane. He quickly made his way to Grosvenor Square and knocked on the Dunwood House door.
The butler bowed. “I am sorry, my lord. Lord and Lady Evesham had a matter of some urgency to attend to at Char-teries. I expect them back by at the end of the week.”
Damn, now what was he to do? “Be a good fellow and let me have a pen and some paper. I must leave a message.”
The butler bowed again. “With pleasure, my lord. If you will follow me.”
Matt wrote a note informing them of the marriage date. “Please have this conveyed to Lord Evesham as soon as possible.”
“My lord, Lady Evesham asked me to give you this.” The butler handed him a folded sheet of paper. He opened it— ah, the list of entertainments. He tucked it into the inside pocket he’d insisted Weston put in his coat. “Thank you.”
Quickly descending the steps, he turned toward Green Street, where the Rutherfords lived. If he had any luck at all, Anna would be there, and he’d ask her.
Matt was ushered into the study where he found both of them working at a huge partner’s table.
Rutherford rose to greet him. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Worthington bowed to Anna. “I wanted to tell you Lady Grace and I shall marry next Tuesday. I—I also have a question for Anna.” He glanced at her hopefully.
Giving him a curious look, she rose. “Come over here and make yourself comfortable. Rutherford, please ring for tea.” She turned back to Matt. “Unless you’d like wine?”
“No, no, tea is perfect.”
Anna sat on a love seat with Rutherford next to her. “Now, how may I help you?”
Matt felt the heat rise in his face. Damn, it had been years since he’d blushed. “I need not tell you that this must remain amongst us three?”
Shrugging lightly, Anna replied, “Of course.”
Rutherford nodded.
“We, Grace and I, were at Lord and Lady Herndon’s house yesterday. Lord Herndon and I went to his office to discuss the marriage settlements. When I returned to Grace, she was different. Colder. Just before we left her aunt told her to remember what she’d said. Whatever she told Grace, it affected her.” He rubbed his eyes. “Do you have any idea what she could have said to make Grace distance herself from me?”
A small smile appeared on Anna’s face. “I think I know. It is advice frequently given by ladies whose marriages are . . . not what they expected them to be.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “Go on.”
Anna grimaced. “Lady Herndon, with the best will in the world, probably told Grace to expect you not to be faithful.”
“What?” He raked his hands through his hair. “Why? I don’t understand what reason she would have to say such a thing.”
“It’s not uncommon. Lady Herndon probably wanted to spare Grace the disappointment she’d felt at one point.”
Rutherford glowered. “Did your mother tell you that?”
Taking his hand, she patted it, and said serenely, “Of course, but by then I knew you didn’t want anyone else.”
“And I never shall,” he answered gruffly.
“I’m very happy for the two of you.” Worthington tried to keep his exasperation under control. “But how do I counter her advice? It’s making Grace miserable.”
Anna grinned. “You’ll think of something. The best thing would be for you to get her to tell you what her aunt said, then you can speak openly about it.”
Worthington strode back to his house scowling. Of all the ninnyhammered things to say to a woman who already had enough to worry about. Yet how to approach Grace?
