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“Nor I,” he said, keeping his voice light and breezy. Just for contrast. Life was infinitely more entertaining that way.

And then they heard: “Ireland!”

That was Wyndham, and rather loud, too. Jack leaned forward to get a better view, but the duke took Grace’s arm and steered her out of sight. And earshot.

“We have our answer,” Jack murmured.

“He can’t be upset that his grandmother is leaving the country,” Lady Amelia said. “I would think he’d be planning a celebration.”

“I rather think Miss Eversleigh has informed him that his grandmother intends that he accompany her.”

“To Ireland?” Amelia shook her head. “Oh, you must be mistaken.”

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “Perhaps. I am but a newcomer here.”

And then she launched into quite the most ambitious speech:

“Aside from the fact that I cannot imagine why the dowager would wish to go to Ireland—not that I wouldn’t like to see your beautiful country, but it does not seem in character for the dowager, whom I have heard speak disparagingly of Northumberland, the Lake District, and indeed all of Scotland…” She paused, presumably to breathe. “Ireland seems a bit of a stretch for her.”

He nodded, since it seemed expected.

“But really, it makes no sense that she would wish for his grace to accompany her. They do not care for each other’s company.”

“How politely said, Lady Amelia,” Jack commented. “Does anyone care for their company?”

Her eyes widened in shock, and it occurred to him that perhaps he should have limited his insult to the dowager alone, but just then Wyndham strode back into the room, looking angry and arrogant.

And almost certainly worthy of whatever sort of insult Jack might give to him.

“Amelia,” he said with brisk indifference, “I am afraid I will not be able to see you home. I do apologize.”

“Of course,” she said, as if she could possibly say anything else.

“I shall make every arrangement for your comfort. Perhaps you would like to select a book from the library?”

“Can you read in a coach?” Jack queried.

“Can you not?” she returned.

“I can,” he replied with great flair. “I can do almost anything in a coach. Or with a coach,” he added, with a smile toward Grace, who stood in the doorway.

Wyndham glared at him and grabbed his fiancée’s arm, hauling her rather unceremoniously to her feet.

“It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Audley,” Lady Amelia said.

“Yes,” he said lightly, “it does seem that you are leaving.”

“Amelia,” the duke said, his voice even more abrupt than before. He led her from the room.

Jack followed them to the doorway, looking for Grace, but she had disappeared. Ah well, perhaps that was for the best.

He glanced toward the window. The skies had darkened, and it appeared that rain would be imminent.

Time for that walk, he decided. The rain would be cold. And wet. And precisely what he needed.

Chapter Fourteen

After five years at Belgrave, Grace had become, if not accustomed, then at least aware of just what could be accomplished with a bit of prestige and a great deal of money. Nonetheless, even she was amazed at how quickly their travel plans fell into place. Within three days a private yacht had been reserved to ferry them from Liverpool to Dublin and then wait at the dock—for as long as necessary, apparently—until they were ready to return to England.