He’d done his best to draw the men away. With every gruff masculine greeting, Jane shrank deeper into the corner of the peach-and-cream striped settee as if she longed to disappear entirely. Cassandra mounted guard at her side, the fierce expression on her face sending the women edging away. Even Penelope had vanished to answer a summons from the nursery.
And Lady Grace—she was nowhere to be seen. He was considering sending a servant upstairs to knock on her door when she swept into the room, looking more than a little exasperated. Her curls were a bit mussed, her cheeks flushed. He went to her at once, surprised to feel some of his tension ease.
“You’re late,” he said.
“I am sorry for the delay, my lord,” Grace said, tucking a wayward tendril behind her ear. “My brother insisted he would come to my room and escort me down. Apparently, he forgot.”
She leveled a wry glance at the youth who was engaged in a heated discussion with Arkwright over some bare-knuckle fighter he’d seen. Lucien would have been happy to climb into the ring with The Crusher himself to escape his present circumstance.
Lucien frowned. “I do hope your father has arranged for a capable bear-leader to keep your brother out of trouble when hecomes to London. The way he instigates arguments, it will be pistols at dawn before a week’s out.”
“I hope father engages someone wise to watch over Will, too.”
Beforehe’s fleeced at some gaming hell or falls prey to some doxy, Lucien added silently. After years of trying to stop Simon’s reckless antics, Lucien knew the possibilities were endless.
Grace scanned the room, observing the clusters of uncomfortable guests and Lucien’s sisters, wary and withdrawn. “Where is your sister-in-law?” she whispered.
“Penelope? The nursery. Apparently, the child is wailing and has a fever. Teeth are involved.”
She gave him a chiding look. “If you had sharp teeth cutting through your tender gums, you’d expect whiskey or laudanum. The comfort of his mother’s arms is little enough for a babe to ask. Let us see what we can do to salvage the evening.”
He felt a surge of relief at her words and guided her toward his sisters. “May I present Lady Grace Elliot,” he began.
“We need no introductions,” Grace exclaimed, eyes shining. “Welcome home, Cassandra. And Jane.” Grace went to his shy younger sister and reached out her hands. “Oh, my dear! How I have missed you!”
For a heartbeat, Jane hesitated, staring down at Grace’s upturned palms, then carefully joined hands with her childhood friend. Lucien watched in astonishment as Jane smiled, a smile more like that of the little sister he remembered than he’d yet seen. Envy jabbed him. What would it be like to bestow affection on his sister so freely? To have Jane welcome it?
“Grace…” Jane said softly. “You are the person I—I most wanted to see in England. Besides Mama and Simon.”
Did Grace notice she’d not included him? Lucien wondered.
“I’m glad to see you as well,” Grace confided. “I confess, I was a bit nervous about this party. I feel very strange being out in society after so long.”
“Youhave not socialized?” Cassandra demanded.
“Not for three years, since my mother became ill.”
Lucien watched his sisters’ faces. He could see what Grace was doing—building bridges between them, putting them at ease. Gratitude made his throat feel thick.
Even Cassandra softened a bit. “I heard of Lady Elliot’s passing. I am very sorry.”
“Thank you. I attempted to go to several parties when she first got sick, but I spent the whole time worrying about her. Between that and the ceaseless questions about her health, it was too jarring.”
“Yes,” Jane said barely above a whisper. “It seems very…noisy here.” She glanced around, as if the slightest movement might bring some calamity down on her.
It hurt Lucien to see it, made him want to shield her, be the barrier between her and the rest of the company as he might have when they were small.
But damned if Grace hadn’t already maneuvered herself so that the curious strangers were no longer in Jane’s line of vision. Clever woman, Lucien thought with admiration.
“I cannot wait for us to have a comfortable chat like we used to,” Grace said. “Remember the lovely times we had driving your pony cart? And that time our mothers took us to the linen drapers in London and we went to Gunter’s for ices.”
Lucien saw Jane’s eyes brighten. “You were never able to eat yours. Those awful apprentices flung a kitten into a fountain and you splashed in to save it. Your mother didn’t scold even though your frock was ruined.”
“The ungrateful beast scratched you terribly,” Cassandra cut in.
“It is hard to tell who is friend or foe when you’re drowning and afraid.” Grace slanted a glance at Lucien.
Something in those words impelled him to sketch a bow and join Simon, Arkwright and the other men as they talked about races Everdene horses had won and the latest news of revolution on the continent. Still, Lucien couldn’t take his eyes off of Grace Elliot.
