Free The Marquis At Midnight by Kate Harper

not
want to have to deal with Lord Lovington, but, unfortunately, while
he held her IOUs she had no choice but to do exactly what he
wanted. She was still puzzled as to what that might be. His
insistence that she acknowledge him in public was irksome,
considering Porter’s distaste for the man, but it was hardly enough
to ruin her reputation. Leave it open to question, perhaps, but she
had always made sure to act with proprietary around the man. Well,
as much as she was able.
    One way or another, it
could not continue. She could not continue, with such a secret hanging
over her.
    Grace was watching her kindly. ‘You could
still tell Porter. I would be happy to stand beside you while you
did.’
    Hester gave her a tremulous smile. ‘Only as
a last resort. Oh Grace, it was so good to get back to the way we
were again. I would hate to have him look at me as if…as if I had
let him down.’
    Which was all well and good, but it didn’t
get them out of the pickle they were in, Grace reflected
grimly.
    They had a relatively quiet day, sitting
together by the fire while they embroidered – Grace a handkerchief,
Hester a sampler as she was, theoretically at least, trying to
improve her skills – while outside a sleeting rain hurled itself
against the window. It was hardly a day to go out and about, which
meant that they might look forward to an uninterrupted afternoon.
Really, with the exception of Bertie, there was nobody either of
the ladies particularly wished to see so the weather was certainly
a boon.
    When Marsh appeared at the door a little
after three, both women looked at him expectantly, assuming that
Bertie had finally arrived.
    ‘The Marquis of Morvyn,’ the butler
announced gravely, and stepped back to allow the gentleman to
enter. Grace’s mouth dropped open when he walked into the room,
astonishment and dismay clearly visible on her face. He looked
windswept, a sprinkle of watery diamonds scattered through his dark
locks from the rain. His gray eyes flickered towards her for a
moment, but his expression revealed nothing and he made his bow to
both ladies with all his customary gravity.
    ‘Lady Woodward. Lady Pemberton.’
    ‘My Lord Morvyn,’ Hester laid her embroidery
aside and rose to her feet to curtsey. After a long moment, Grace
reluctantly rose as well. ‘This is a pleasant surprise.’
    ‘I trust I find the both of you well?’ He
glanced at Grace, but she looked away, suddenly interested in the
wall on the opposite side of the room.
    ‘Oh yes. It’s such a wretched day that we
decided not to brave the weather and go out.’
    ‘A very sensible decision.’
    ‘Would you care to sit down, my lord?’
    ‘Thank you.’
    The three of them subsided, Grace
immediately returning to her handkerchief, dark golden head bent
over it determinedly. She had not said a word. Hester gave her a
puzzled glance before turning back to the marquis.
    ‘Would you care for some tea, Lord
Morvyn?’
    ‘That would be most welcome.’
    Hester rose and went to ring for Marsh, who
appeared almost immediately. ‘A tea tray, if you please Marsh.’
    Returning to her seat, she could not help
but wonder at the rather dense silence. A very determined silence,
at least on the part of her friend. Which was most peculiar as
Grace could be relied on to be perfectly charming when people came
to call.
    Morvyn was eyeing Grace thoughtfully. ‘I am
delighted to see you are receiving today, Lady Pemberton.’
    She glanced at him, dark eyes cool. ‘And why
would I not be?’
    ‘I seem to recall you told me last night
that you never received morning callers.’
    Grace’s soft lips tightened
a little. ‘You misunderstood. I should have said that I never
receive some callers. I am extremely particular.’
    Hester gasped. This was so unlike Grace that
it was positively astonishing. ‘Grace! I am sure that it was very
kind of Lord Morvyn to call.’
    ‘I do not think kindness comes into it.
Perversity, perhaps.’ Grace flashed back,