The Lost Duke of Wyndham Chapter Ten

assholes unc pop show uph response when delivered un engaging tidings was to smile. This was his response to pleasant news as well, of course, precisely any unitary could grin when offered a compliment. It took talent to flexure aces lips in an upward direction when ordered, judge, to clean out a bedroom pot or risk unmatcheds life by sneaking screwing enemy lines to determine troop numbers. solo when he generally m venerabled it. excrementmoving defenseless among the Frenchhe al styles reacted with a ironic quip and a lazy smile.This was non somewhat involvement hed had to cultivate. Indeed, the midwife whod brought him into the world swore to her death day that he was the only baby shed ever appearn who emerged from his mothers womb smiling.He dis deald conflict. He always had, which had made his chosen professions the military, fol secondaryed by courtly crime somewhat interesting. besides firing a weapon at a nameless frog or lifting a necklace from the nec k of an overfed aristocrat this was non conflict.Conflict to Jack was personal. It was a lovers betrayal, a friends insult. It was dickens brothers vying for their fathers approval, a poor relation forced to swallow her pride. It involved a sneer, or a shrill voice, and it left a body wonder if hed offended someone.Or disappointed a nonher.He had found, with a near one hundred percent success rate, that a grin and a gallant remark could defuse almost any situation. Or change any topic. Which meant that he in truth rarely had to discuss matters that were not of his choosing.Nonetheless, this time, when faced with the dowager and her unanticipated (although, really, he should convey expected it) announcement, all he could do was gaze at her and say, I beg your pardon?We essential go to Ireland, she verbalise again, in that obey-me tone he expected she had been born with.Thither is no way we shall get to the bottom of the matter without visiting the site of the marriage. I as sume Irish churches keep records?Good God, did she think all of them were preliterate? Jack forced d confess a bit of bile and express quite tightly,Indeed.Good. The dowager turned masking to her breakfast, the matter good and settled in her mind. We shall ascertain whoever performed the ceremony and obtain the register. It is the only way.Jack felt his fingers change shape and flexing beneath the table. It felt as if his blood were going to burst finished and through his skin. Wouldnt you prefer to send someone in your stead? he inquired.The dowager regarded him as she might an idiot. Who could I possibly trust with a matter of such(prenominal) importance? No, it must be me. And you, of course, and Wyndham, since I expect he allow for want to appear whatever proof we locate as well.The usual Jack would neer chip in let such a chin wag pass without his own, exceedingly ironic, One would think, unsocial this current Jack the one who was desperately trying to figure ou t how he might tour to Ireland without world deciden by his aunt, uncle, or any of his cousins actually bit his lip.Mr. Audley? kindness utter quietly.He didnt escorting at at her. He refused to look at her. Shed look on far to a greater extent in his face than the dowager ever would.Of course, he said briskly. Of course we must go. Because really, what else could he say? Terribly sorry, merely I cant go to Ireland, as I killed my cousin?Jack had been out of society for a number of years, hardly he was f impartly certain(prenominal) this would not be considered good breakfast table conversation.And yes, he knew that he had not pulled a trigger, and yes, he knew that he had not forced Arthur to acquire a commission and enter the army along with him, and yes and this was the worst of it he knew that his aunt would never however dream of blaming him for Arthurs death.But he had cognise Arthur. And more importantly, Arthur had k straightn him. Better than anyone. Hed kn own his both strength and his either weakness and when Jack had finally closed the door on his fateful university career and headed off to the military, Arthur had refused to allow him to go alone.And they both knew why.It might be somewhat ambitious to try to depart tomorrow, benediction said. You volition defend to secure passage, and Bah was the dowagers response. Wyndhams secretary can manage it. Its about time he earned his wages. And if not tomorrow, indeed the next day.Will you wish for me to heed you? clemency asked quietly.Jack was bonny about to interject that, damn yes, shed be going, or else he would not, alone the dowager gave her a haughty look and replied, Of course. You do not think I would make such a trip without a companion? I cannot bring maids the gossip, you know and so I will need someone to help me dress up.You know that I am not genuinely good with hair, beautify pointed out, and to Jacks horror, he laughed. It was dependable a short li ttle burst of it, tinged with a loathsome nervous edge, but it was becoming for both ladies to stop their conversation, and their meal, and turn to him.Oh. Brilliant. How was he to explain this? Dont mind me, I was simply laughing at the ludicrousness of it all. You with your hair, me with my dead cousin.Do you find my hair amusing? the dowager asked astutely.And Jack, because he had absolutely nothing to lose, just shrugged and said, A bit.The dowager let out an indignant huff, and Grace positively glared at him.Womens hair always amuses me, he clarified. So much work, when all anyone really wants is to see it down.They both seemed to relax a bit. His comment whitethorn arrive at been risque, but it took the personal edge off the insult. The dowager tossed one closing curtain irritated look in his direction, then(prenominal) turned to Grace to continue their previous conversation. You may spend the morning with Maria, she directed. She will show you what to do. It cant be tha t nasty. Pull one of the scullery maids up from the kitchen and practice upon her.Shell be grateful for the opportunity, Im sure.Grace looked not at all enthused, but she nodded and murmured, Of course.See to it that the kitchen work does not suffer, the dowager said, finishing the subsist of her stewed apples.An elegant coiffure is compensation enough.For what? Jack asked.The dowager turned to him, her wind somehow looking pointier than usual.Compensation for what? he restated, since he felt same being contrary.The dowager stared at him a moment longer, then must have decided he was best ignored, because she turned back to Grace. You may bewilder packing my things once you are done with Maria. And after that, see to it that a suitable story is set about for our absence. She waved her hand in the air as if it were a trifle. A hunting cottage in Scotland will do nicely. The Borders, I should think. No one will look at it if you say I went to the Highlands.Grace nodded silently .Somewhere off the well-trod path, however, the dowager continued, looking as if she were enjoying herself. The last thing I need is for one of my friends to attempt to see me.Do you have many friends? Jack asked, his tone so blamelessly obliging that shed be wondering all day if shed been insulted.The dowager is much admired, Grace said quickly, perfect little companion that she was.Jack decided not to comment. subscribe to you ever been to Ireland? Grace asked the dowager. But Jack caught the angry look she snap him forward turning to her employer.Of course not. The dowagers face pinched. why on humans would I have done so?It is said to have a soothing effect on ones temperament, Jack said.Thus far, the dowager retorted, I am not much impressed with its influences upon ones manners.He smiled. You find me impolite?I find you impertinent.Jack turned to Grace with a sad sigh. And here I thought I was meant to be the prodigal grandson, able to do no wrong.Everyone does wrong, th e dowager said sharply. The question is how little wrong one does.I would think, Jack said quietly, that it is more important what one does to rectify the wrong.Or perhaps, the dowager snapped angrily, one could manage not to make the mistake in the kickoff place.Jack leaned forward, interested now. What did my father do that was so very very wrong?He died, she said, and her voice was so bitter and full of quivering that Jack heard Grace suck in her breath from across the table.Surely you cannot blame him for that, Jack murmured. A freak storm, a drafty boatHe should never have stayed so long in Ireland, the dowager hissed. He should never have gone in the first place. He was needed here.By you, Jack said lightly.The dowagers face lost some of its usual stiffness, and for a moment he thought he sawing machine her eyes grow moist. But whatever emotion came over her, it was swiftly tamped down, and she stabbed at her bacon and bit off, He was needed here. By all of us.Grace sudd enly stood. I will go find Maria now, your grace, if that is amenable.Jack rose along with her. thither was no way she was leaving him alone with the dowager. I believe you promised me a tour of the castle, he murmured.Grace looked from the dowager to him and back again. Finally the dowager flicked her hand in the air and said, Oh, take him about. He should see his birthright before we leave. You may have your session with Maria later. I will remain and await Wyndham.But as they reached the doorway, they heard her rack up softly, If that is indeed quiet his name.Grace was too angry to wait courteously outside the doorway, and indeed, she was already halfway down the hall before Mr. Audley caught up with her.Is this a tour or a race? he asked, his lips forming that now familiar smile. But this time it did nothing but raise her ire.Why did you bait her? she burst out. Why would you do such a thing?The comment about her hair, do you mean? he asked, and he gave her one of those annoyi ng innocent whatever-could-I-have-done-wrong looks. When of course he had to have known, perfectly well.Everything, she replied hotly. We were having a perfectly lovely breakfast, and then you You might have been having a perfectly lovely breakfast, he cut in, and his voice held a newly sharp edge. I was conversing with Medusa.Yes, but you didnt have to make things worse by agitating her.Isnt that what his holiness does?Grace stared at him in angry confusion. What are you talking about?Sorry. He shrugged. The duke. Ive not noticed that he holds his applauder in her presence. I thought to emulate.Mr. Aud Ah, but I misspoke. Hes not holy, is he? precisely perfect.She could do nothing but stare. What had Thomas done to earn such contempt? By all rights Thomas should be the one in a blackened mood. He probably was, to be fair, but at least hed taken himself off to be furious elsewhere.His grace, it is, isnt it? Mr. Audley continued, his voice losing no(prenominal) of his derision. Im not so uneducated that I dont know the correct forms of address.I never said you were. Neither, I might add, did the dowager. Grace let out an irritated exhale. She shall be difficult all day now.She isnt normally difficult?Good heavens, she precious to hit him. Of course the dowager was normally difficult. He knew that. What could he possibly have to gain by remarking upon it other than the enhancement of his oh so dry and wry persona?She shall be worse, she ground out. And I shall be the one to pay for it.My apologies, then, he said, and he offered a contrite bow.Grace felt suddenly uncomfortable. Not because she thought he was mocking her, but rather because she was quite sure he was not. It was nothing, she mumbled. It is not your place to take over my situation.Does Wyndham?Grace looked up at him, somehow captured by the heterosexualism of his gaze. No, she said softly. Yes, he does, but noNo, he didnt. Thomas did look out for her, and had, on more than one occasion, int erceded when he felt she was being treated unfairly, but he never held his tongue with his grandmother just to keep the peace.And Grace would never dream of asking him to. Or chew out him for not doing so.He was the duke. She could not speak to him that way, no matter their friendship.But Mr. Audley was She closed her eyes for a moment, turning away so he could not see the turmoil on her face. He was just Mr. Audley for now, not so very far above her. But the dowagers voice, soft and menacing, suave rang in her ears If that is indeed unsounded his name.She was speaking of Thomas, of course. But the counterpart was honest as well. If Thomas was not Wyndham, then Mr. Audley was.And this manthis man who had kissed her twice and made her dream of something beyond the walls of this castle he would be this castle. The dukedom wasnt just a few words appended to the end of ones name. It was lands, it was money, it was the very account of England placed upon one mans shoulders.And if there was one thing she had learned during her quin years at Belgrave, it was that the aristocracy were different from the rest of humanity. They were mortals, true, and they bled and cried just like everyone else, but they carried within them something that set them apart.It didnt make them better. No matter the dowagers lectures on the subject, Grace would never believe that. But they were different. And they were shaped by the noesis of their history and their roles.If Mr. Audleys birth had been legitimate, then he was the Duke of Wyndham, and she was an overreaching spinster for even dreaming of his face.Grace took a deep, restorative breath, and then, once her nerves were sufficiently calmed, turned back to him. Which part of the castle would you like to see, Mr. Audley?He must have recognized that this was not the time to press her, and so he answered cheerfully, Why, all of it, of course, but I remember that is not feasible for a single morning. Where do you suggest we beg in?The gallery? He had been so interested in the paintings in his room the night before. It seemed a arranged place to start.And gaze upon the friendly faces of my supposed ancestors? His nostrils flared, and for a moment he almost looked as if hed swallowed something distasteful. I think not. Ive had enough of my ancestors for one morning, convey you very much.These are dead ancestors, Grace murmured, hardly able to believe her cheek.Which is how I prefer them, but not this morning.She glanced across the hall to where she could see sunlight dappling in through a window. I could show you the gardens.Im not dressed for it.The conservatory?He tapped his ear. Made of tin, Im afraid.She pressed her lips together, waited a moment, then said, Do you have any location in mind?Many, he answered promptly, but theyd leave your reputation in tatters.Mr. Au Jack, he reminded her, and somehow there was less space between them. You called me Jack last night.Grace did not move, despite the fact that her heels were itching to scoot backwards. He was not close enough to kiss her, not even close enough to accidentally brush his hand against her arm. But her lungs felt suddenly bleak of air, and her heart had begun to race, beating erratically in her chest.She could feel it forming on her tongue Jack. But she could not say it. Not in this moment, with the kitchen stove of him as the duke still fresh in her mind. Mr. Audley, she said, and although she tried for sternness, she did not quite manage it.I am heartbroken, he said, and he did it with the exact right product line of levity to restore her equilibrium.But I shall carry on, painful though it may be.Yes, you look to be in despair, she murmured.One of his brows rose. Do I get hold a hint of sarcasm? scarcely a hint.Good, because I mark you he thumped one hand against his heart I am expiry on the inside.She laughed, but she tried to hold it in, so it came out more like a snort. It should have been embarrassing wi th anyone else it would have been. But he had set her back at ease, and instead she felt herself smile. She wondered if he established what a talent it was to return any conversation to a smile. get it on with me, Mr. Audley, she said, motioning for him to accompany her down the hall. I shall show you my very favorite room. ar there cupids?She blinked. I beg your pardon?I was attacked by cupids this morning, he said with a shrug, as if such a thing were a common day occurrence. In my dressing room.And again she smiled, this time even more broadly. Ah. Id forgotten. Its a bit much, isnt it?Unless one is partial to naked babies. once again her laughter snorted out.Something in your throat? he asked innocently.She answered him with a dry look, then said, I believe the dressing room was decorated by the be dukes great-grandmother.Yes, Id assumed it wasnt the dowager, he said cheerfully. She doesnt seem the sort for cherubs of any stripe.The image that brought forth was enough to make her laugh aloud.Finally, he said, and at her risible look, added, I thought you were going to choke on it earlier.You seem to have regained your good mood as well, she pointed out.It requires only the removal of my presence from her presence.But you only just met the dowager yesterday. Surely youve had a disagreeable moment before that.He flashed her a broad grin. Happy since the day I was born.Oh, contend now, Mr. Audley.I never admit to my black moods.She raised her brows. You merely go them?He chuckled at that. Indeed.They walked companionably toward the rear of the house, Mr. Audley occasionally pressing her for information of their destination.I shant tell you, Grace said, trying to ignore the giddy sense of expectation that had begun to slide through her. It sounds like nothing special in words.Just another drawing room, eh?To anyone else, perhaps, but for her it was magical.How many are there, by the way? he asked.She paused, trying to count. I am not certain. The dowage r is partial to only three, so we rarely use the others.Dusty and molding?She smiled. Cleaned every day.Of course. He looked about him, and it occurred to her that he did not seem cowed by the grandeur of his surroundings, justamused.No, not amused. It was more of a wry disbelief, as if he were still wondering if he could trade this all in and get himself kidnapped by a different dowager duchess. Perhaps one with a smaller castle. penny for your thoughts, Miss Eversleigh, he said. Although Im sure they are worth a pound. more(prenominal) than that, she said over her shoulder. His mood was infectious, and she felt like a coquette. It was unfamiliar. unfamiliar and lovely.He held up his hold in surrender. Too steep a price, Im afraid. I am but an impoverished thief.She cocked her head. Wouldnt that make you an unsuccessful highwayman?Touche, he acknowledged, but alas, untrue. I have had a most paying(a) career. The life of a thief suits my talents perfectly.Your talents are for poin ting guns and removing necklaces off ladies necks?I transport the necklaces off their necks. He shook his head in a perfect imitation of offense. Kindly make the distinction.Oh, please.I charmed you.She was all indignation. You did not.He reached out, and before she could step away, hed grasped her hand and raised it to his lips. Recall the night in question, Miss Eversleigh. The moonlight, the soft wind.There was no wind.Youre spoiling my repositing, he growled.There was no wind, she stated. You are romanticizing the encounter.Can you blame me? he returned, smiling at her wickedly. I never know who is going to step through the peddler door. Most of the time I get a wheezy old badger.Graces initial inclination was to ask him if badger referred to a man or a woman, but she decided this would only encourage him. Plus, he was still holding her hand, his thumb idly stroking her palm, and she was finding that such intimacies poorly restricted her talents for witty repartee.Where are you taking me, Miss Eversleigh? His voice was a murmur, brushing softly against her skin.He was kissing her again, and her entire arm shivered with the excitation of it.It is just around the corner, she whispered. Because her voice seemed to have abandoned her. It was all she could do to breathe.He straightened then, but did not release her hand. Lead on, Miss Eversleigh.She did, tugging him light as she moved toward her destination. To everyone else, it was just a drawing room, decorated in shades of cream and gold, with the occasional accent of the palest, mintiest of greens.But Graces dowager-inflicted schedule had wedded her cause to enter in the morning, when the eastern sun still hung low on the horizon.The air shimmered in the early morning, somehow princely with the light, and when it streamed through the windows in this far-flung, unnamed drawing room, the world somehow sparkled. By midmorning it would be just an expensively decorated room, but now, while the larks were still chirping softly outside, it was magic.If he didnt see thatWell, she did not know what it would mean if he did not see that. But it would be disappointing. It was a small thing, meaningless to anyone but her, and to dateShe wanted him to see it. The simple magic of the morning light. The yellowish pink and grace in the one room at Belgrave that she could almost imagine was hers.Here we are, she said, a little breathless with the anticipation. The door was open, and as they approached, she could see the light slanting out, landing gently on the smooth arise of the floor. There was such a golden hue to it, she could see every speck of dust that hung floating in the air.Is there a clannish choir? he teased. A fantastical menagerie?Nothing so ordinary, she replied. But close your eyes. You should see it all at once.He took her hands and, still facing her, placed them over his eyes. It brought her achingly close to him, her arms stretched up, the bodice of her dress just a whisp er away from his finely tailored coat. It would be so easy to lean forward, to sigh into him. She could let her hands leave off and close her own eyes, tilting her face toward his. He would kiss her, and she would lose her breath, her will, her very desire to, in that moment, be only herself.She wanted to melt into him. She wanted to be a part of him. And the strangest part was right there, right then, with the golden light rippling down upon them it seemed the most natural thing in the world.But his eyes were closed, and for him, one little piece of the magic was missing. It had to have been, because if he had felt everything that was floating around her through her he never would have said, his voice utterly charming Are we there yet?Almost, she said. She should have been grateful that the moment was broken. She should have been relieved that she did not do something she was sure to regret.But she wasnt. She wanted her regrets. She wanted them desperately. She wanted to do so mething she knew she should not, and she wanted to lie in bed at night letting the memory keep her warm.But she was not brave enough to initiate her own downfall. Instead, she led him to the open doorway and said softly, Here we are.