Page 63 of How to Tempt an Earl

“No, my lady. He has departed for the evening.” Mrs. Smithson turned, but not before Grace caught the flash of sympathy in the housekeeper’s eyes.

He’d left her.

On their wedding night.

She could only assume he’d escaped to the Raven Club. What did she expect? She’d demanded a marriage in name only. He was following her command. Then why did she feel such emptiness, such sorrow?

She let out a long sigh. If only he hadn’t betrayed her.

Would she have agreed to marry him if she’d known he intended to keep the club?

Her position had been precarious. Her father’s debts. Her nonexistent dowry. Adam’s schooling. Her imminent ruin.

If only she hadn’t learned of his deception from eavesdropping on his conversation with the dowager. If only Ian had been honest, had explained his intentions, perhaps things would have turned out differently and she wouldn’t be spending her wedding night alone.

She pushed aside her disappointment. She was never one to wallow in self-pity. She preferred action. Hadn’t she bravely sought out employment with the milliner to ease her financial burdens?

She was healthy and strong-willed. There were worse things than dining alone.

Even on her wedding night.

As that thought crossed her mind, another took hold. “Can you tell me where Castleton’s bedchamber is located?” She’d been to his chambers once before to see his clothing and cut his hair, but it had been at night and she wasn’t certain of its location relative to her own chambers.

“The servants use the door from the hall, but you won’t need to.”

She wouldn’t need to. Did Ian tell Mrs. Smithson about their arrangement? Grace felt her face heat.

“You may use the private door that leads directly into his chambers.” The housekeeper pointed to a paneled door by the escritoire. It had been surreptitiously painted the same color as the wall and was hard to see unless one knew to look for it.

A private door to Ian’s bedchamber.

But you will not use it. She’d stood before him hours ago dressed in her wedding finery and swore she would never willingly come to his bed.

Challenge accepted, he’d said.

Would he slip through the door tonight and try to seduce her?

Why did the thought cause her heart to pound fast in excitement rather than outrage?

“Thank you, Mrs. Smithson. I’m tired from the day and have decided to have a tray brought to my room. Please help me with my stays.”

The housekeeper’s brow furrowed and she curtsied. “As you wish.” Mrs. Smithson worked the tiny row of pearl buttons, helped Grace step out of the beautiful gown, then hung it in the armoire. Next were Grace’s stays, then she laid a nightgown on the bed. “It’s lovely.”

The nightgown was nothing like Grace had ever worn before. A thin garment made of the softest cotton she had ever touched, it was embroidered with fine silver on the hem. The dressmaker had insisted she add it to her trousseau along with a matching wrapper. Of course, Ian was paying for everything, and the woman was more than happy to see Grace outfitted as the new bride of the Earl of Castleton. Grace had blushed when she’d first seen the garment.

Now she wanted to toss it out the window, except she had nothing else to sleep in. It didn’t matter. Ian wasn’t home, nor was he coming to her bed.

Mrs. Smithson went to the door, then hesitated. “Forgive me for speaking, my lady, but Castleton is not a bad man.”

Grace’s stomach tightened at the housekeeper’s words. Her husband may not be a bad man, but he certainly was a dishonest one.

“Good evening,” Grace said.

Mrs. Smithson curtsied, then slipped out of the room.

Grace spent a half hour pacing the lavishly appointed room in her nightgown. Rose would arrive tomorrow, but she decided to take out her gowns, shake them, and hang them in the armoire. A low knock on the door made her look up. A young kitchen maid carried in a tray and left it on a side table, then quickly departed. Grace had little appetite, but she nibbled on cheese, soft bread, and cold ham. It was surprisingly delicious, and she wondered where he’d found the cook.

Soon after eating, she made up her mind. Her dresses had been hung, her silver comb and brush set on the dressing table. If he wasn’t coming home, then she wouldn’t wait. There was one room in the house that held hours of entertainment. Entertainment and diversion from her predicament.