“You’ll be going off to school yourselves soon,” she said, burying her empty hands in her skirts. “But when you come home for holiday, I’ll be close enough to visit for dinner, to hear all of your news. We’ll still have outings by the lake, and?—”
“You promised you wouldn’t leave,” Ethan asserted stubbornly.
She swallowed hard. “It was wrong of me to promise that.”
“So you lied!” Avery snapped.
Lucien could see Grace’s throat constrict. “Sometimes, life…changes in ways we—we can’t predict,” she began.
Helen cut her off. “Why, look at your dear papa and me! Who would have thought we would marry and be so happy?”
Oh, yes, that will help, Lucien thought. Remind them of the last catastrophic change in their lives. Could the woman not see she was making things worse?
“A promise is a promise!” Avery cried, then spun to face his sister. “You can’t leave us withher!”
A shudder went through Grace, and Lucien sensed she was fighting back tears.
“Avery!” Lord Elliot boomed. “You will not speak of your stepmother that way! I demand you apologize this instant!”
But Avery was beyond fearing his father’s wrath, the focus of his heartbreak on the sister who had always sheltered him. “I’ll never forgive you if you marry him!” he vowed, then he spun to run out of the room. At the last moment, Avery veered toward Lucien and balled a fist, slamming it into his stomach with all the strength in his small arm. Lucien doubled over in surprise as pain radiated from the fencing wound Cassandra had dealt him.
“Avery!” Grace cried. “Oh, Lucien!”
He straightened, one hand on his chest. “Let him go,” he said, trying to suck in a steadying breath as the other boys pelted after their brother. “Emotions are rather high at the moment. I think we could all use some time to cool down. Perhaps…a bit of fresh air in the garden would not come amiss.” He eyed Lord Elliot. “My man of business will wait upon you with the marriage contracts,” he said. “If there are any other matters to discuss, I will be in the steward’s house near Everdene Hall.”
Helen’s brow puckered. “Surely as lord of the manor, you reside in the manor itself. If it becomes too crowded, others in your family can decamp to another location.”
Lucien leveled her a chill look. “I am not in the habit of debating my choice in living arrangements with anyone, Lady Elliot.”
Helen’s hand fluttered to her ample breast. “Of course…I only…I just…”
“Lady Grace?” Lucien said extending his arm. Grace slipped her hand through it, and he led the way through the hall. Partway down, he eyed a black mark on one of the silk peacocks.
“No wonder your brothers deface the wallpaper,” he muttered under his breath. “She’s lucky they don’t draw a mustache on her while she sleeps.”
Though he wanted to lighten her mood, she gave a soft sniff. He was the very devil when it came to dealing with crying women. But somehow, the notion of Grace in tears chafed.
He led her to a small arbor in the garden where they would be concealed from the house. There, he handed her his handkerchief.
She accepted it gratefully, dabbing at her eyes. “I am so sorry you had to endure that family scene,” she said. “Helen’s prattling…my father’s outburst…I don’t know what got into him.”
“Probably an understandable sense of caution.”
“And my brothers…they were distraught, but I’m appalled that Avery struck you.” Her voice cracked. “You must let me look at your wound again to make sure he didn’t break it open.” She reached for the front of Lucien’s waistcoat, but he gently grasped her fingers in his.
“My dear, much as I look forward to your lovely hands on my bare chest, I prefer to wait until our wedding night. I fear your touch would undo me.”
She flushed. “You are trying to distract me.”
He canted his head, eager to prevent feminine waterworks. “Is it working?”
“Oh, Lucien…” Her voice cracked. “The boys…my heart aches for them. It was wrong of me to promise them that I would never leave. I know that now, but at the time, I would have said anything to soothe them.”
“Even had you not agreed to marry me, it was inevitable that you would leave—ortheywould grow up and leave. They’ll get over it in time.”
“Did you?”
“Did I what?” he asked, taken aback.
