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He gave a rueful shake of his head. “Facts cannot be changed simply because you wish them otherwise.”
“And you cannot simply ride roughshod over other people’s choices and freedoms,” she challenged.
“Perhaps not, but as your lover, I now reserve the right to deplore yourchoicein ever agreeing to become Redding’s mistress.” He grimaced. “As to freedoms, I was present when we helped fight a war against the Corsican usurper for the sole purpose of ensuring the French people, and the people in those other countries Napoleon invaded and claimed as his own before elevating members of his family to rule there, were given back the freedom to choose with whom their future lay.” He scowled darkly. “I lost one of my best friends during that last bloody battle at Waterloo.”
Grace winced. “I have heard the ladies talk of how close the Ruthless—er, you and your remaining four friends still are.”
“I am well aware that Society refers to us as the Ruthless Dukes,” he derided. “A reputation that was well earned, I assure you,” he added in warning.
“No doubt,” she accepted, although he did not seem to have been particularly ruthless toward her.
Alaric had been highhanded and arrogant, yes, but he had not deliberately set out to be cruel or harsh with her. The opposite, if she thought of the passion and consideration of his lovemaking the previous night.
“Has it occurred to you that the two of us would never have met if George had not brought me to London?” she reasoned.
Alaric snorted. “Do not attempt to claim Redding’s actions were anything less than selfish or that he has not been fucking you for the past year as part of the bargain for having set you up in your own London home. No doubt he also gives you a clothing allowance and everything else a mistress requires to remain faithful.”
“Except a carriage,” she reminded.
He shrugged. “You informed me that omission was of your own choosing.”
“We appear to have wandered from our original subject of the letter I am to write to George.”
Alaric stared at Grace for several long seconds, frowning his frustration when she calmly returned his gaze, her expression revealing none of her inner thoughts.
His gaze dropped to that necklace about her throat, the gold heart currently nestling against the tops of her breasts. “Do you carry Redding’s likeness with you inside that locket?” If she admitted to doing so, he would have to demand she remove it immediately. He refused to make love with her again with that other man’s image in pride of place between them.
Dear God, when put like that, it sounded positively indecent!
Grace’s eyes widened before she stepped back, forcing Alaric to drop his hand back to his side. “Not that it is any of your business, but the locket contains a likeness of my mother and father,” she informed him coldly.
“I apologize,” Alaric bit out, knowing his feelings of jealousy had once again dictated his words, and by doing so, he had hurt Grace. “Your mother died when you were quite young, I believe.” The report from Stanley’s man had said Grace was aged only five when she lost her mother.
“Yes,” she confirmed abruptly before moving to sit in the chair behind his desk. “If you could supply me with pen and paper, I will now write my note to George.”
Alaric felt as if Grace wasn’t being totally honest with him.
He gave a self-derisive snort at how ludicrous that thought was. Of course, Grace wasn’t being completely honest with him. Not yet. But she would.
Oh yes, she would.
CHAPTERELEVEN
“—will write to you again when I am due to return. Regards, Grace.”
Grace obediently wrote down the words Alaric dictated to her as he leaned against the side of the desk, his arms folded in front of his chest. A letter to George which was much as Alaric had told her it would be, informing the other man of her decision to return to Devon for a week, possibly longer.
She straightened and replaced the pen in its holder once she had finished writing. Alaric immediately picked up the sheet of paper to check its contents.
His gaze was narrowed when he raised it to look at her. “Why have you signed it simply G rather than Grace?”
She steadily met that suspicious gaze. “Because it is the way we have previously agreed that I should sign any necessary communication between the two of us, so no one would have reason to question a missive from a woman who is not George’s wife.”
Alaric’s top lip curled. “You mean so that his wife would not have reason to question it.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Yes.”
He studied those flushed cheeks. “Have you had reason to write to Redding before today?”
