“I am no girl.But Iamthe Viscountess Everdene. Alice, do note on your social calendar the date. Three Wednesdays hence. Seven of the clock. Raven’s Court. I promise it will be a night you’ll never forget.”
Grace’s chin bumped up a notch. Lady Pinchbeck could stuff her patronizing concern into that capacious cleavage of hers along with the gaudy pendant she wore.
Two weeks later,the visit from Alice and her mother still chafed Grace. Lady Pinchbeck had left in high dudgeon, the pompous woman like a thorn festering beneath her skin. For the life of Grace, she couldn’t figure out why. Yes, she had felt a trifle unwell since the incident at Drury Lane, her emotions honed to a sharp edge, but she had done her best to forget the horrors of that night, and had immersed herself in the maelstrom of activity needed to host an event for the ton: Invitations written and sent, planning the delicacies cook would prepare and the entertainment to be offered, composing the appeals she would make for donations.
Donations she feared would be far less than she’d hoped, thanks to Lady Pinchbeck’s interference.
But at the moment, it wasn’t her frustration with the meddlesome woman or the notes of regret on her escritoire that made Grace’s stomach clench. It was the missive that lay atop them, words written in Avery’s cramped hand.
It has been three weeks since you told us what Lord Admiral Nelson is doing. Did you take him to the Tower of London to see the headsman’s ax as you promised?
Not only had she failed to take the Lord Admiral to the Tower, she had no idea what had become of her brothers’ cherished toy. For the past hour she had pawed through pockets and drawers, spoken to maids, and even crawled on the carpet to search beneath the bed and armoire. But the dented tin soldier that was the link to her brothers was nowhere to be found.
In truth, she’d not even thought of the toy since before the riot at Drury Lane. Thought of little, save the planned charity event and her happiness with Lucien. A happiness she handled like a spindle of glass lest the slightest pressure break it. Pressure that might, even now, threaten…She peered into her mirror, touching her stomach with a flutter of excitement, confusion and dread, uncertain what changes this new possibility might bring. She shook away that fear, pinched her cheeks to give them color, then descended the stairs to search for her husband in his study.
She was surprised to find Lucien was not alone.
Arkwright stood in rakish disarray beside the hearth, doubtless to drive the late November chill from his long limbs. He shot her that irrepressible grin. “I stopped by to tempt Everdene into a game of chess since he’s eschewed the club of late. Not that I blame him, considering the lovely company he has at home.” He turned toward Lucien. “It seems marriage agrees with the Elusive Viscount Everdene. Dare I say it, Luce? You look almost happy.”
“And you look annoyingly smug.” Lucien rolled his eyes at his friend, then held out a hand to Grace. She slipped her own into his, grateful to feel the warm strength.
Arkwright beamed. “You are only annoyed because I am right.”
“I fear things are a trifle chaotic at present,” Grace said. “I am preparing to host my first real event as a political hostess thiscoming Wednesday. A charity event with all proceeds to benefit the school for factory children.”
“Indeed? That seems like a worthy cause. And who is to attend this event?”
“Anyone with the slightest bent toward philanthropy, though I have received some regrets as well.” She made a face. “Alice Pinchbeck’s mother scheduled an event at the same time. A musicale starring a famed opera dancer. I am rather sure she did it on purpose.”
“Am I to receive an invitation to your fete?”
“Yes, of course! I did not know that you had returned to town. Lucien said you were visiting your grandmother in Lancashire. I hope you found her well.”
“Terrifyingly so. I’m exhausted after trying to keep up with her.” Affection radiated from Arkwright. “Attending mere London party will be a relief.”
“I know I am a trifle early for the holiday, but I plan to make it a Christmas theme in hopes that will inspire people to be more generous.”
Arkwright gave a hearty laugh. “You may put me down for a sizeable donation. As for Lady Pinchbeck—” He pursed his lips in a perfect mimic of the sour matron, but before he could finish, Lucien cut him off.
“The lady will prove no match for you,” he said, and she leaned closer against his solid shoulder. “The ton is about to be dazzled by my new Viscountess.”
“I have no doubt!” Arkwright addressed Grace. “Speaking of the upcoming holiday, will you be seeing your brothers for Christmas? Tell young Master Avery that he had best be keeping up his swordplay. I intend to challenge him to a duel when next I see him.”
Grace looked down, reminded, not only of the lost toy, but of the holidays looming. Lucien’s resolution before they marriedechoed in her head:I would rather be dragged behind one of Simon’s horses than endure a fete overrun with children. I prefer spending Christmas at my club.But perhaps with the changes in their relationship, there might be reason to hope?
“We have not yet discussed where we will spend Christmas,” she said, “but I fear I’ve sought out Lucien now to inquire about another matter regarding the boys.”
“The boys?’ Lucien echoed, feathering his thumb across her knuckles in a soothing path. “Is something amiss?”
“I’m afraid so. I have only just realized I misplaced Lord Admiral Nelson.”
Arkwright gave his head a bemused shake. “Uh, I believe you’ll find a statue of him in Trafalgar Square. Or perhaps you might visit his tomb at St. Paul’s Cathedral?—”
“Not the real Lord Admiral Nelson, you gudgeon,” Lucien corrected with a solemnity that only made Arkwright appear more confused. “The toy soldier her brothers gave her. Grace has carried it all around London and written to them of his adventures.”
Arkwright eyes widened. “Grace, you reallyarethe best sister in Christendom.”
“My brothers won’t think so when they discover I have lost their favorite toy. I just received a letter from Avery demanding to know whether or not the Lord Admiral has visited the Tower. I fear when my brothers learn the truth they may be shoutingoff with my head.”
