Free Grace by Deneane Clark Page A

looked up at him with weary patience.
    Trevor gave her a long, assessing look, then stepped aside without a word. She pushed past him and walked out of the stables, her long hair swaying with each fluid step, her pert nose perched firmly in the air. He watched her go, gazing with admiration at the graceful movement of her hips. Grace did not look back as she crossed the yard and disappeared into the house.
    Bingham Ackerly stood on the front steps, one arm curved protectively around his youngest daughter, bidding their noble guests a smiling good-bye. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, Your Grace,” he said with deep gratitude as he shook Sebastian’s hand. Mercy stared unabashedly up at the handsome duke, her huge blue eyes shining at him with obvious adoration under the wide white bandage that encircled her small head.
    With a rarely bestowed smile, Sebastian reached out to rumple her silky auburn curls, then chucked her affectionately under the chin, admonishing, “You stay out of trouble,urchin.” Although he voiced it as an instruction, not a request, his tawny eyes held a rare gentle glint. This odd young girl had touched something in him he had previously not known existed. He bent and kissed her small hand with an air of gallantry, then went down the shallow steps to climb aboard the waiting coach.
    Inside the house, clad in a pretty jonquil yellow morning gown, Grace stood at the front drawing room window, peering through a small break in the curtains. She watched as Trevor spoke with her father for a moment, then solemnly shook Mercy’s hand and joined the duke in the shining burgundy vehicle. Through the coach’s open doorway she watched Trevor settle into his seat, say something to the duke, then look directly at her window.
    Instinctively, she shrank back. Although certain he could not possibly see her, she was unwilling to let him know she was watching him leave, and even more unwilling to admit that she felt an odd sense of loss at seeing him go. When she thought it safe to look again, the footman had already closed and latched the door. She watched in silence until the coach had pulled off and made its way down the short drive to the road. She turned away from the window, letting the heavy curtain fall back into place with a soft rustle.
    “Miss Grace?”
    Happy for any distraction from her unwelcome thoughts, Grace smiled at the young girl from the village who had just begun working in the household as a parlor maid. “What is it, Millie?” she asked in a pleasant tone.
    “His lordship asked me to give you this after he left, miss.” She handed Grace a folded piece of paper, then curtsied awkwardly and scurried from the room. She was so frightened that Grace did not have the heart to call her back and tell her that the members of this household did not require her to curtsy.
    She also did not bother to ask which nobleman had writtenthe note. A bit cautiously she opened it and scanned the brief contents. What she read made her clench her teeth in sudden, renewed annoyance. The earl had effectively gotten the last word. He’d written in a bold, sweeping hand:
    You look beautiful in yellow, my dear Grace, although I think I prefer you in your breeches. I will be taking up residence in a week at my country estate. I will call upon you soon after.
    Yours, Trevor
    Furious, Grace crumpled the note and tossed it into the drawing room fireplace. The last thing she wanted or needed was for the Earl of Huntwick to live nearer Pelthamshire. She watched the edges of the note catch fire and curl into ash. When the last bit of paper disappeared in the flames, she nodded with grim satisfaction and stalked out of the drawing room in search of Patience. Her older sister had begun pressing her again this year to go to London for the Season. She and Faith had an open invitation from their mother’s eldest sister. Until now, Grace had considered the idea of spending the entire spring in the city