Page 15 of A Simple Scandal (Millionaires of Mayfair #3)

Fourteen

G race’s eyes flew open the following day when she couldn’t move. She was surrounded, encased, and hemmed in by a large, hot brick. Her eyes flew open when the sweet song of a wren greeted the new day. Panic flared when she couldn’t move. It wasn’t a brick lying on her but a large male.

Dane had buried his head against her neck, and his chest was atop hers. One long leg was thrown over her hips, pinning her in place.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and Winston entered the room. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

Grace tried to roll Dane off her, but he was a dead weight.

Winston peeked around the room. “Lady Grace?”

With a pitiful voice, she called out, “Help.”

Winston’s eyes widened. “Oh, my dear lady, allow me to lend assistance.” He rushed to the bed and pulled Dane toward him, thus freeing Grace.

“I hope you had a restful…night,” the butler said with a smile as if it were a common occurrence to pull a duke off her body.

“It’s not what you think.” Grace scooted off the bed and stood. No doubt, he thought that she’d been intimate with Dane. Well, she had, but not in the manner Winston must have been thinking. “We simply talked, then fell asleep.” None of the footmen or the maid even glanced her way. Her eyes locked with Winston’s gaze. “You must believe me. Nothing happened.”

Dane moaned and reached for her. “Grace, I’m cold.”

Winston simply nodded. “Thank you for staying with him. You gave him great comfort yesterday and this morning. How is the patient?”

As soon as he placed his palm on Dane’s forehead, another moan sounded. Dane batted it away. “Leave me. I need Grace.”

“Yes, sir.” Winston turned toward the door and snapped his fingers.

A parade of footmen entered the room carrying steaming buckets of water. Efficient and incredibly stealthy, they poured the water into the copper tub without hardly making a sound. Just as quietly as they entered, they left. Another footman walked in, followed by an upstairs maid. While the footman tended to the fire, the maid opened the drapes. They were greeted by a dreary yet typical English morning.

Winston came to her side. “He is quite hot and clammy. I took the liberty of ordering His Grace a bath. I also ordered one for you in your room.”

“Thank you.” Grace ran her hands down her dressing gown. “You’re a godsend. I’ll dress then depart with Lord Marbury and Lady Athena.”

From the outside, the call of a coachman filled the room. “Come on, my boys, go to it.” The lurch of the carriage and the clomp of horses’ hooves signaled a departure.

“Was that Lord Marbury?” She rushed to the window to see a cloud of dust rising from the Pelham Hall drive. “He was supposed to wait for me.”

Winston shrugged sheepishly. “I’m sorry, my lady. His lordship was in a high dudgeon this morning and insisted they leave.”

“He left without me?” Grace hissed, then turned her gaze back to the window. Marbury’s carriage turned out of Pelham Hall's circular drive, then disappeared from sight.

Winston stood beside her. “His lordship was quite peeved with His Grace for monopolizing your time last night. I tried to explain that His Grace was ill, but the man would not listen. He kept interrupting me.”

Everything grew still. Slowly, Grace turned to Winston. “You’re telling me that Lord Marbury knew I stayed in Dane’s chambers last night?”

Winston stared at the floor and nodded sheepishly.

“Did he say anything?”

“No, ma’am. He just grumbled on his way out of the house. He took one of the maids as a chaperon.” The butler lifted his gaze to hers. “But not to worry. He’ll send her back to Pelham Hall as soon as they arrive in London.”

Not to worry? This was an unmitigated disaster. Her reputation teetered on the edge of ruin. Not only was she not there to act as chaperone, but there was no telling what the young lord thought of her helping Dane last night. Knowing Marbury, he would likely think that she and Dane were having a torrid affair. If he had mentioned what had happened to anyone, it would have spread faster than wildfire to every sitting room and salon in London.

Grace squared her shoulders. It didn’t matter what Marbury thought. She was helping a friend and nothing more. Her best recourse was to return to London as quickly as possible and try to minimize damage. She could not afford to lose any remaining clients if she wanted security for herself and Theo.

“Lady Athena said she would call on you when you return to London,” Winston added. The beleaguered look on his face indicated that he realized the seriousness of the situation. “I’m sorry, Lady Grace, but he was despondent when he was calling for you. I was concerned that…”

Grace released a pent-up breath and placed her hand on the butler’s arm. “You were concerned that His Grace might have screamed all night.”

Winston nodded.

She glanced over at Dane, who, with the help of the footmen, was making his way to the bathing tub.

“I’ll leave you with His Grace.” She would bathe, finish packing, and then head to London herself. “I would like a carriage ready within the hour. I’ll be heading to London myself.”

“You can’t stay?” A hint of hysteria sounded in Winton’s voice.

Forceful but polite, she answered, “No.”

“Do not let her leave,” Dane grumbled.

Winston stood beside the tub and regarded him with clasped hands. “It’s a bit difficult to explain that no carriages are available when you have ten housed here at Pelham Hall.”

Not at all embarrassed about his naked body, Dane leaned forward in the tub and regarded his loyal butler. It wouldn’t be the first or the last time that his butler saw him naked and vulnerable. Whenever Dane had been ill as a child, it was always Winston who sat with him so the other servants could rest at night.

“I don’t care. Have the groomsmen take a wheel off of every vehicle. He closed his eyes and, with a gingered movement, reclined against the tub. “That will keep her here.”

“Are you feeling better, sir?”

Dane lifted one eyelid and regarded his butler. “Only if Grace is here.” She could not leave Pelham Hall until she agreed to marry him.

In deep thought, his butler tapped his cheek with one forefinger.

That was the problem with the blasted man. He never listened to Dane. Even though he had Dane’s best interests at heart, he’d gone against Dane’s plans. If Winston hadn’t brought Grace to the Jolly Rooster, Dane could have convinced her with sweet words that she was everything to him. She wouldn’t have been able to resist him. Heaven knew he couldn’t resist her.

“You should know that I’m going to marry her.”

Winston rocked back on his heels with a jubilant smile. “Excellent news, Your Grace. I’m glad things are once again progressing in that matter.”

“She said no last night because she saw Sarah and Molly sitting on my lap. She thought I wanted to marry one of them.” Dane rolled his eyes. “I told her they were my employees, but I’m not certain she believed me. Perhaps she should chat with them to understand what I was doing.”

Dane dipped his head underwater and enjoyed the warmth of the bath. He should stay in the water for the entire day, and he would ask Grace to bathe him. A sly smile tugged at his lips. Yes, she would never be able to resist him or his proposal if he could kiss her.

That was the thing between them. No matter their differences, there was no denying the heat that ignited between them when they were together. He’d never experienced anything like it, and he had only had it with Grace. He should hold a ball and have it in her honor after they marry.

He rose from the water and shook his head. Water drops flew everywhere. He would plan the ball himself after he took a brief nap.

“Hmph.” Winston scowled. “Why wouldn’t she believe you?”

Dane pursed his lips as a jolt of shame hit him. “Perhaps because of what her father saw at the Jolly Rooster after I asked her to marry me the first time.”

“You never explained it to her?”

Dane shook his head. “An error on my part.”

“A major one.” Winston stuck his nose in the air, reminding Dane of himself. It was pure dismissal. “My mother always said it’s better to clean the entire floor than to sweep the dirt under the rug. The hidden dirt will eventually show up again.”

Dane closed his eyes. “I’m too sick for riddles.”

Winston blinked like an owl. “Sometimes it’s best to confess, ask for forgiveness, and hopefully, start anew. Have you ever considered how Lady Grace must have felt when she told her father you wanted to marry her, and he confided that on that very day, you had other women on your lap while you gambled? She had to have been humiliated and devastated.”

“I didn’t sleep with those women.” Dane’s voice rose in anger.

“Does it make a difference?” Winston tilted his head as if contemplating his question, then shook his head. “More importantly, would it make a difference to Lady Grace? You should have talked to her then and begged forgiveness.”

“I know.” Humiliated, Dane plunged his head into the water. He was hiding like a turtle in its shell. Still, his clever butler was correct. If Winston thought his actions unacceptable, no wonder Grace didn’t want to have anything to do with him. A sudden pain erupted in the middle of his chest. He hadn’t felt it since that day on the field. He’d broken her heart and, in doing so, had broken his own.

And his had never mended.

He had felt like a coward and hadn’t wanted to lose her then. He could only hope he wouldn’t lose her after they found peace between them last night.

He came up for air. “You’re right. I’ll speak to her.”

“Good luck, sir.” Winston clasped his hands in front of him. “Regarding last night, please allow me to see if I can help. Lord Marbury stopped in the village this morning and was as chatty as he was sour. He told anyone who listened why they were leaving Pelham Hall. I know what to do to sway Lady Grace’s opinion.”

If Dane wasn’t so weak, he would ask his butler more. But if Winston had a plan, Dane was all for it.

Winston had a talent for accomplishing the impossible.

Even if it might be a little underhanded.

But Dane could support his butler’s efforts. After all, every advantage was fair in love and war.

But first, he had to explain some things.

Grace munched on a piece of toast as she stared out the window and studied the view. The formal gardens at Pelham Hall were a thing of beauty, and she’d always enjoyed spending time in them. It was such a shame that she was leaving within the hour and couldn’t take a walk. However, she had important business in London. Specifically, she had to meet with Marbury and explain what had happened last night.

She took a sip of tea and marveled at how well she felt. The bath rejuvenated her, and she was anxious to travel home.

A footman entered the room and nodded in her direction. “Ma’am, I hate to intrude, but it will be impossible for you to return to London today. The carriages are currently being repaired.”

She placed her hands in her lap and smiled at the footman. By the look on his face, she knew that he was telling a falsehood. Well, she’d put him out of his misery. “No need to explain. I am certain His Grace said that I couldn’t take one.” She lifted her serviette and patted her lips. “It makes little difference if the duke’s carriages are unavailable. I’ll take a dog cart to London if I have to.” She tilted her head and then smiled. “Is His Grace’s curricle available for a trip to town? I can manage one of those quite well. My father taught me.”

Before the footman could utter an answer, Winston swept into the room. “The parish vicar, Mr. Stephenson, is calling. He’s waiting in the family salon. Allow me to escort you.”

“He’s waiting for me?” she asked. “How would he even know I was here?”

“Lord Marbury shared the news of His Grace’s illness. It’s spread throughout the village. The vicar wants to hear about His Grace’s health this morning.” He swept an arm toward the door. “I’ve told him everything I know. Now, he’s asking for you. Come, my lady.”

Grace stood and followed the butler up the stairs to the second floor, where the family salon and the private chambers of the Duke of Pelham were. With an efficiency that belied his age, Winston strolled down the passageway and threw open the door.

Chatter filled the air. It wasn’t just the vicar present but the entire village from its appearance.

Once Winston cleared his throat, all conversation ceased.

Without hesitating, an older man approached with a genuine smile. “Good morning, Lady Grace. I’m Mr. Stephenson, the village vicar.” He smoothed the brim of the hat he was holding in his hand. “We were wondering how the duke is this morning. Lord Marbury said you were nursing the duke back to health.”

Grace’s heart slowed its rhythm. There was no telling what else Marbury had said that morning. She glanced around the room at all the expectant faces. Remembering her manners, Grace smiled in greeting. She had no idea who these people were since she hadn’t lived in the area for years. “Perhaps Winston should be the one to explain.”

When she turned to Winston, the blasted man had disappeared, leaving her with all the guests. They looked at her as if she were the mistress of the house and knew all.

“My lady, I’m Mr. Bennett, the muffin man.” A middle-aged man with brown hair that glistened with touches of distinguished gray approached her. “The duke is my best customer.” The man chortled slightly. “The duke says my muffins are the best he’s ever tasted. I’ve brought some and left them with Cook. I hope he enjoys them. And you, as well. He was a godsend when my family first moved here. We were down to our last shilling. I was fearful that I would have to beg for food. But the duke magnanimously offered us a place to live and set up a shop with the largest oven I’d ever seen.”

The vicar frowned. “He knows the meaning of magnanimous?”

“Hush,” an elderly lady hissed at the vicar, then turned to the muffin man. “Mr. Bennett, not yet .”

“Oh, pardon me,” Mr. Bennett said in apology. “I was supposed to say something else.” He glanced sheepishly at Grace and cleared his throat. “We’re all worried about the duke.”

The elderly woman who’d taken the vicar and the muffin man to task turned her way with a delightful smile. “I’m Mrs. Hughes of the lady auxiliary. We must know how the duke is feeling.” She looked at her companion and waved a hand. “This is Mrs. Morris.”

The elderly woman at Mrs. Hughes’s side nodded in greeting, then patted Grace’s arm. “Word has it that you spent the night with him. That was a kind gesture. We’re all delighted he’s in such good hands.” She smiled serenely at her companion.

Alarm bells rang in her ears, making her incapable of forming a coherent thought. She was ruined if every villager knew where she slept last night.

“I…I,” Grace faltered.

“Lord Marbury said you didn’t leave the duke’s side all night. Mrs. Hughes and I are forever grateful to you and the Duke of Pelham. He offers us the use of the Jolly Rooster for our meetings.”

“As long as he doesn’t have any games of chance scheduled,” Mrs. Hughes chortled, then swallowed her laughter. “I only meant if His Grace didn’t have any of those dashing gentlemen visiting from London that day.”

Mrs. Morris nodded. “There’s nothing uncouth or vulgar about the Duke of Pelham’s card games. We assure you, my lady. His Grace takes his games very seriously.”

“Indeed,” Mr. Bennett agreed.

“Ma’am?” Mr. Stephenson asked. “How is His Grace feeling this morning?”

They all held an expectant expression, waiting for her explanation. Grace blinked slowly. What was she supposed to say? Even acting as if she could relay any information about Dane’s condition was a step too far, even if they were in Amesbury.

“I’ll tell you how he is,” a voice called from behind Grace. “He has a fever.”

Grace turned and discovered a disheveled middle-aged woman with long, tangled gray hair that hung loosely about her shoulders.

Without introducing herself, she walked forward with a slight limp. “I apologize for my tardiness. It couldn’t be helped. The cat got out.” She held a bottle in her hand and gave it to Grace. “Here. Give him a spoonful in the morning and evening. And give him another dose if he wakes up in the middle of the night. That will drive the cough out of his chest.”

“Along with the devil,” someone murmured behind Grace’s back.

Without taking offense, the old woman threw back her head and laughed. She was missing several teeth and didn’t care if anyone saw that. When she finished her laughing spell, she winked at Grace. “I’m Mrs. Grimalkin. I’m an apothecary by trade.”

“As well as a witch,” Mr. Stephenson offered.

Grace whipped her gaze to the vicar, who shrugged.

“Ack,” Mrs. Grimalkin snickered. “‘Tis true. I used my special cards last night. Someone had to find out about the duke’s health. Oh, before I forget, this is for you to hang in the duke’s bedroom.” She pulled a glass ball with a string attached at the top from her pocket. “Place this witching ball in the window closest to where he sleeps tonight. It’ll cast out the evil spirits. Also, it would do the duke some good to gargle salt in his water. Have him spit it out; he should not swallow it.” She nodded once. “It’s nice to meet you, Lady Grace Webster. I’m sure we will see each other again.”

With that cryptic statement, Mrs. Grimalkin turned and left Grace with the rest of the villagers.

“Best do as she says,” Mrs. Morris said. “As the village witch, she can predict the future.”

“And cure sore throats,” Mrs. Hughes added.

“And deliver babies,” Mr. Stephenson said. “She’s a valuable member of our village. Just as the duke is, he’s a man with a heart of gold. He’d give the coat off his back to someone in need.”

“He would lay his best morning coat in a mud puddle if one of us were crossing the street.” Mrs. Hughes said unashamedly. “He loves dogs, cats, and especially children.”

“And spinsters,” Mrs. Morris added before her eyes widened. “But not inappropriately. I’ve never seen him be untoward to any female. Especially a spinster like yourself.”

Grace merely blinked at the insult.

“Heavens, no,” Mrs. Hughes agreed. “He’s dutiful and respectful of all women. But you are not a spinster. You’re a very accomplished senior debutant.”

Mrs. Morris nodded.

Grace wanted to roll her eyes but smiled instead.

“Rumor has it that he’s found his duchess,” Mr. Bennett said.

“I only hope I’m the one to perform your ceremony,” Mr. Stephenson said boldly. “You’ll make a beautiful bride.”

The rest of the guests murmured their agreement.

“Well, we best get going so you can give the duke his tonic. Give him our regards.” Mr. Bennett nodded at the others, then bowed to Grace. “Thank you for taking care of him, my lady. He’s truly a gift to our village and takes care of all of us. He needs you. Be gentle with him.”

“Gentle with him?” What in the world was happening with these people? It was almost as if they were trying to convince her that Dane was some virtuous paragon of goodness.

No one answered her as they shuffled from the room. An odd assortment of “thanks” filled the air. After the last guest left the room, Grace collapsed on the nearest brocade club chair. What in the world was that about? It was almost as if they’d known that she was leaving for London and wanted to ensure that she understood Dane’s worth to them. It had to have been Dane and Winston’s machinations that brought them to Pelham Hall this morning.

She studied the bottle that Mrs. Grimalkin left for her. She lifted the stopper and smelled the pleasant fragrance of witch hazel. The advice to have Dane gargle salt water was also sound. She would find Winston and tell him what had been discussed so he could help Dane after she left for London. He could also decide where to hang the witching ball.

She had other matters to attend to. If need be, she’d go to the Jolly Rooster and see if she could hire a carriage and a driver. Of course, it would cost a fortune, but if she didn’t return to London as soon as possible and secure her reputation and business, she wouldn’t have any money.

Before she could rise and find Winston, two pretty ladies entered the room. One had a mane of fiery red hair, and the other had glistening dark brown locks. They smoothed their dresses as if they were nervous.

“My lady?” One of the young women stepped forward. “I’m Molly Adams, and this is Sarah Foley.” She dipped a curtsey.

The other young woman did the same.

“If you’re searching for the other villagers, I’m afraid they just left.” Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, Grace recognized the two women. They were the ones who had been sitting on Dane’s lap last night.

“May we have a word with you?” Sarah asked meekly.

Before she could answer, the two women came closer and stood before her.

Molly was the one with red hair. She nodded once at Sarah, who took a deep breath and then turned her full attention to Grace.

“My lady, I don’t want you to have the wrong impression of the duke and us. You see, he was—” Sarah bent her head as if she couldn’t go on.

Molly patted her on the back and soothed her. “Let me finish, dear.” She turned her blue-eyed gaze to Grace. “That rat, Lord Brixworth, wouldn’t stop touching Sarah. I told Mr. Atwater, the majordomo, and he came straight to His Grace.” Her cheeks matched the color of her hair, betraying her anger. “The duke protects his family, and we’re part of his family.” She narrowed her eyes and regarded Grace. “His Jolly Rooster family.”

Sarah wiped her eyes and took a steadying breath. Her gaze met Grace’s. The young woman’s determination shone brightly in her eyes. “I need to tell you a story about the duke. Once, I thought I was in love. He was a coachman who said the same to me. Then he left in the middle of the night after I told him I was carrying. My parents threw me out of their house. With no one else to help me, I went to the duke, who gave me a house without asking for rent and allowed me to earn a living washing the linens for the Jolly Rooster.” A tear streaked down her cheek. “He’s the best of men.” She shook her head adamantly. “He has never been inappropriate with any of his staff.”

Molly nodded her agreement. “It was our idea to sit on his lap and stand beside His Grace. We knew that Lord Brixworth”—she sneered when she said his name—“would only have eyes on us. He’s a menace with his unwanted advances to women.” She was practically spitting with rage. “After the duke won the game and the property last night, he ordered that Brixworth be thrown out and never allowed to return to the Jolly Rooster.”

“Property?” Grace narrowed her eyes.

Molly stilled and looked at Sarah. “Do you know what property he won?”

Sarah shook her head. For the first time since she’d entered the room, Sarah smiled. “His Grace wanted you to leave last night because he didn’t want you in danger. But he wasn’t himself. It was apparent that he was ill when he left the inn. He came straight home to you.”

Well, he took his time and ensured that he finished the game and won his property before he came home, even if he was ill. Was this something her mother experienced with her father, a man who loved to gamble to the exclusion of all else?

“He only has eyes for you, my lady.” Molly nodded. “He has your initials carved with his in the entry.”

Through the roaring din in her ears at the news, she squeaked out, “What?”

“‘Tis true, my lady. No one had ever noticed until Molly’s son, Tim, saw it one day when he was nine. He was always an observant lad.” Affection rang in her voice. “He asked the duke about it, and His Grace said that the initials belonged to the woman he would marry one day.”

Grace stood up, completely startled by the news. “I’m not certain I understand.”

Molly’s slow smile reminded Grace of a sphinx. “He’s yours. Always has been.”

Maybe she did understand. A sudden warmth slapped her cheeks. It was their initials intertwined on the plaque at the Jolly Rooster. Perhaps his time with Molly and Sarah had been well-intentioned. But what about all those years ago?

The longcase clock struck the half hour.

“We must go,” Sarah bowed again. “We’re preparing for Tim’s wedding breakfast tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Grace said. “I thought you said Tim was nine years old.”

“That was nine years ago, my lady,” Molly said with a chuckle. “Shortly after the duke bought the Jolly Rooster.”

They both took their leave. Grace looked at the bottle still in her hands, then slowly sat in the club chair. Could he have been pining after her for nine long years? She shook her head. It was impossible. Yet, why would Molly and Sarah tell her a falsehood? These people adored Dane. And it wasn’t because he was a duke or a handsome man or a prodigal gambler. They loved him because he cared for them and protected them as if they were his own family.

She buried her head in her hands. Slowly, she lifted her head. There was no denying he was a scoundrel, a walking scandal, a rogue, and an altogether infuriating man.

But he was caring, giving, protective, and too handsome for his own good.

He apparently wanted her to stay at Pelham Hall if he had made excuses that all the carriages, carts, and even his curricles were unavailable.

She clasped the bottle to her chest. Perhaps she could stay until his fever broke. This was her chance to ask about that night nine years ago.

Then, she’d leave and take care of her business in London.

Perhaps his fever-induced confession was the truth.

It was hard to fathom that Dane Ardeerton had loved her all these years.

Especially when he called her nothing but a Scottish wildcat.