With a fierce control more terrifying that simple outrage, the viscount stripped the soaked cravat from his neck, then used it to wipe the mud and blotches of blood from the wound on his face. His blue eyes seared lightning hot.
“I truly am sorry, my lord,” Grace stammered. “We were just having an outing and my brothers got carried away with their game as children do. They had no idea who you were. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Inconvenience.” He enunciated the word, sharpening each syllable as if it were a knife. “I have a vital meeting to attend at Everdene Hall and my horse has run off. Perfect. This is just perfect.”
Grace swallowed hard. “If you come with us to The Willows, I’m sure we could loan you a horse.”
“You have done quite enough.”
Bennet and Ethan shrank back as Lord Everdene retrieved his boots, shaking off the dirt, then stuffing his sodden, stocking-clad foot into each one. As he yanked the Hessians into place, they made a wet, slurpy sound so like a bodily function that Avery actually snickered. Grace shot him a quelling glare.
“Iamsorry, my lord. Boys, apologize right now.”
There was a murmur that might have been an apology—or the first salvo in a war.
Lord Everdene snatched his very expensive coat from the ground, and with a parting glare, stalked off.
Grace stared at him until he disappeared from view, then she buried her face in her hands. After a moment, she spun around to face the three culprits who appeared far from contrite.
“Whatever possessed you to do such a thing? Fling mud at Viscount Everdene, no less?”
“He was shouting at you,” Avery declared with a pugnacious tilt to his chin. “And he had mean eyes.”
True enough. The look on the viscount’s face could have matched that of any dragon.
She turned her glare onto the younger two. “Bennet and Ethan? What wereyouthinking?”
“Avery did it.” Ethan looked at his brother and little Bennet nodded.
Exasperation welled up in her. “If Avery flung himself out of the tower window, would you boys do it, too?”
“Yes,” Avery said, unrepentant. “But they’d try to jump farther and land harder.”
“Gather up your things,” she said. “We’re going home.”
She could only hope that her stepmother’s luncheon had gone flawlessly. At least her brothers’ talent for mayhem had been loosed far from The Willows. Perhaps Helen had been wise to lock the parlor’s door.
A hard expressioncrossed Avery’s face as Grace herded the boys toward the servant’s entrance, and she thanked God she’d gotten the lot of them out of the house before the guests arrived.If they were in luck, the luncheon might be over and Helen might have retired to her room to bask in her social triumph. She paused and looked around. There were no carriages visible.
Now, if she could only could get the wee rogues up the stairs before Helen saw them. She was desperate to turn them over to one of the maids to be bathed and dressed and hopefully barricaded in the nursery while she went to her bedchamber, sank into a hot tub and tried to scrub this day from her skin and her memory.
Not that she’d be able to forget the scene at the lake with Viscount Everdene. It felt as though Lucien Harcourt had imprinted himself on her body. Even now she could feel his chest, the racing of his heart against her breasts, his long, strong legs propelling them through the water as she sputtered, and desperately tried to break free, to explain…
What her stepmother would have to say about this little escapade, Grace could only imagine. Heaven help her if anyone else found out, she thought as the boys started squabbling beside her.
She turned to them, making sure she had their full attention, then put her finger to her lips. “We need to be very quiet, so no one hears us go in.”
Bennet furrowed his little brow. “But Papa says we mustn’t sneak.” The other two nodded in agreement.
Now they find their conscience?She closed her eyes for a moment, took a calming breath, then chose her words carefully. “Just this once. Everyone has been so busy with Helen’s luncheon we don’t want to disturb them.”
Avery shouldered his way in front of his brothers and Ethan shoved him. “Oww! You stepped on my boot!” he squawked.
Avery shoved back. “I did not!”
Grace sucked in a breath, thinking they were done for, desperate to calm the storm. “We’re going to sneak into thehouse, as if we’re spies carrying secret missives to the nursery. If we fail, Wellington will lose the battle of Waterloo.”
Their eyes lit up. Bennet looked down at his toy soldier. Avery and Ethan put their fingers to their lips. Grace gave a silent sigh of relief then peered into the hallway. Seeing it was clear, she signaled for the boys to follow her in. Maids and footmen raced about, so harried they barely noticed the muddy, sodden crew making their way to the back stairs. But as Grace and the boys rounded a corner, they nearly collided with Pevensey, the butler more rattled than she had ever seen him.
