Lucien gave her a bracing smile. “You may be sure I would not pursue this, were it not for my high regard for Lady Grace. From the moment we renewed our acquaintance?—”
Her father wheeled on Lucien. “All parliament knows that the Viscount Everdene never does anything without a self-serving purpose! Did your father put you up to this? Some sort of sick revenge? I should call you out!”
“Papa!”
“Vernon!” Helen cried.
“Far better to escort your daughter to the church to be wed.” Lucien looked so tall, strong and in command that he made her father seem small.
“You will make Grace miserable,” Papa asserted.
Lucien’s jaw clenched. “I think Lady Grace would be far more so were she exiled to Scotland as you’ve planned.” At the cutting remark, sweat beaded her father’s face. Lucien crossed to her, took her hand. “No one is more surprised than I to discover Lady Grace is essential to me.”
She looked at Lucien, stunned. Was he attempting to soothe her father’s concerns? No. He met her eyes, just the hint of a wry smile curving those sensual lips.
“Speak to your daughter,” Lucien said. “Ask whatshewishes.”
Papa sputtered in outrage. “Grace, tell me you do not wish to wed this man.”
Grace drew a deep breath. “I do wish it,” she said. “I know this is a surprise to you, and an unwelcome one. But the truth is, I am old enough to decide for myself. I do not to need your permission, Papa, but I hope I might have your blessing.”
Helen rushed into the exchange, flushed with enthusiasm. “Of course you will give it, won’t you, Vernon? Have we not been urging Grace to make a match? And now she has done so, with one of the most sought-after bachelors in the kingdom!” Helen turned to Grace. “When do you wish to marry?”
“We shall be wed as soon as the banns are cried,” Lucien said.
“There is no need to rush,” her father insisted. “Lady Elliot and I planned to give Grace the pleasure of a London season after her own was cut short. To pamper her with gowns from the best modistes, the finest parties and entertainments. That will give you time to consider whether this match is wise.”
Lucien slipped his arm around Grace’s waist. “As my viscountess, Lady Grace will have her choice of invitations, her choice of modistes and milliners. I can see no purpose in delaying our nuptials now that we’ve decided to wed.”
Helen clasped her hands, blissful. “Oh, Vernon. Never mind new gowns for the season! We can plan her trousseau instead! We will leave for London as soon as may be! Just think, our Grace—a viscountess, and someday, Countess of Ravenscroft!”
Few things had givenLucien more pleasure than seeing the look on Vernon Elliot’s face when he’d realized he would not have the power to control Grace’s future. God knew, Lucien had seen that dictatorial attitude visited often enough on his mother,his sisters, and other women he’d encountered. What a hellish space to inhabit, the reality that the reins of your life would forever be in the hands of someone else, merely because you were a woman.
It felt damned good to put a stop to it in this one instance. He could hear whoops and footsteps pounding in the hall just outside the door, the young Elliots running riot, no doubt. That was all this contretemps needed. Three pirates who hated him. Please God, let them veer off and torment someone else, Lucien thought.
Of course, Lady Elliot trilled out an invitation. “Children, come hear the wonderful news!”
It was all Lucien could do not to clap his hand over the woman’s mouth.
The boys thundered into the room, jostling each other in a jumble of arms and legs, their clothes askew and some unidentifiable substance smearing the littlest one’s nose.
“Yoursisteris to bemarried!” Lady Elliot exclaimed. “She is to be Lady Everdene! Aviscountess!”
If Grace’s father had looked dismayed, the three boys looked stricken. Avery’s freckles stood out like pox on his ashen face. Ethan huddled close to his older brother while fat tears welled on Bennet’s lashes.
If this was an example of Lady Elliot’s mothering skills, no wonder the boys were in full rebellion. Doubtless, Grace had wanted to tell her brothers she was to be wed herself, breaking the news in her own reassuring way. There could be no chance of that now. Lucien doubted a cannon salvo could have had greater impact.
Avery glared at Grace, betrayal flashing in his eyes. “You promised you wouldn’t leave us.”
Lucien could see Grace try to gather herself, groping for some way to repair the damage Helen had done. “That is thewonderful thing about this marriage,” she said, giving him a gentle smile. “I won’t be moving far away. Lord Everdene lives close enough that you and I can visit as often as we like.”
“Will you read stories to us and tuck us in?” Bennet asked. His bottom lip trembled.
Ethan elbowed him. “Course not.”
“We’re too big for that anyway,” Avery said gruffly. “We only let Grace do it because…because she’s used to it.” If he’d been a head taller, Lucien thought, he’d have been calling for pistols at dawn.
Grace knelt, trying to gather them into her arms. None of the boys were having it. They strained back as if she’d slapped them.
