Page 15 of A Trial of His Affections (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #2)

Chapter Fifteen

T he outing to Gunter’s had been just the thing to prolong his time with Grace. And his sisters had talked of nothing else in the two days since. All in all, it had been a success.

Miles smiled as he handed off his coat and beaver to the Maceys’ butler. Things had gone well at the museum. Better than he could have hoped. It could be that she was not beyond his reach. At least not completely. If they had a few more interactions like they’d had at the museum and then at Gunter’s, he might just be able to win her to his side.

He followed the sound of people to the large saloon on the first floor. At least a hundred people milled about, chatting. It was likely to go far into the night with the crush of people present.

He spotted Freddie in the far corner speaking with Lady Turnbow. His brother caught his gaze and lifted his chin in acknowledgement. Miles returned the greeting.

“Are you just going to stand here in the corner grinning the whole evening?” Fin asked.

Miles flinched in surprise. “You are growing wilier every day, Fin. Are you certain you have not taken a post with the government? Perhaps taken up as a spy?”

Fin grinned. “I’ve never thought about it before, but perhaps I shall. They likely could use a gentleman of my talents.” He took on a pensive look but then shook his head. “It is not to be. Their clothes are far too dark and brooding. I like a bit of color in my wardrobe.” He straightened his pale pink and green striped waistcoat.

Miles quirked a brow. “Yes, I can see that might be a problem for you.”

“What are you so happy about, anyhow?” Fin looked out over the crowd with a disinterested eye. “When last I saw you, you were far from merry.”

“I’m not overly happy,” Miles contested. He was not about to admit just how much he enjoyed his outing with Grace. At least not in this crush. Evie was not the only one to have learned from Miss Eugenia Bateman and her overheard conversation.

Perhaps when he was safely ensconced at Brooks’s or in his townhouse, he would confide in Fin and Freddie. He tipped his head toward the pianoforte at the front of the room. “When do you think they will begin this display?”

Fin scrunched up his nose. “Anytime will be too soon. I’m uncertain why I even came.”

Miles glanced down at Fin’s waistcoat. “Likely to show off that eyesore.”

Fin frowned. “Eyesore. You must have your eyes checked. This waistcoat is a vision. I’ll have you know, I nearly had to wrestle it from His Grace, the Duke of Penderville.”

Miles looked over at Fin and gave him a bland look. “The duke is well known for his ostentatious fashion. I should think Brummell himself would turn his nose up at that.”

Fin raised a brow. “As the dear John Wesley said, we may agree to disagree.”

Miles rolled his eyes but could not help the smile turning his lips. He released a sigh. “I am certain there will be enjoyable performances. But they will be few and far between.”

Fin folded his arms over his chest. “On that, we can agree.” He squinted at the crush. “Is Miss Jenkins here tonight? Did you not tell me once that she has a rather lovely voice? Perhaps she will favor us with a song?”

Miles smiled. “She said she was coming.” He frowned. Had her fears made her cancel? “But that was several days ago. Perhaps their plans changed?” He leaned back against the wall. He hoped she was coming. It was the only reason he’d sent his acceptance. “I have not seen her yet.”

As if on cue, Grace, Mrs. Jenkins, and Philip stepped into the saloon. Jenkins’ gaze swept the room, and when it landed on Miles, he lifted a hand in greeting, nudging Grace in their direction.

“Good evening, Jenkins.” Miles dipped his head when they approached. “Mrs. Jenkins, Miss Jenkins.” Lud, there was so much Jenkins-ing. Would it not be better to call her Grace?

Philip grinned. It was his natural tendency. He clapped Miles on the back. “We are always happy to see you, Yardley. Especially as there are still so many people we’ve not yet met. You are a welcome sight.”

Grace looked out at the people before turning back to face him. “Yes, there are a lot of strangers.”

Lord Allington approached, his walking stick swinging along at his side. Miles bit his cheek to keep from mocking the ridiculous thing.

“Lord Finsbury.” He acknowledged Fin with a dip of his head. He paused when his gaze met Fin’s waistcoat. Allington’s nose scrunched up in disdain. Miles re-examined the coat. If Allington did not like it, perhaps Miles should reconsider his opinion on it.

Allington flicked up his brows and turned to Miles. “Mr. Yardley. I understand you recently inherited an estate. Good stroke of luck you had, eh?”

Miles’ hands clenched at his side. Only a nodcock would consider the death of a beloved brother as fortunate.

“I doubt Mr. Yardley sees it in the same light,” Grace said in an affronted tone.

Miles’ throat thickened. How had she known?

Allington’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his gaze on Grace. “Finsbury, you must introduce me to your friends.”

Miles lifted his brow. Allington had not been on the list Freddie and Fin had concocted. Although Miles could not say he objected to the notion. The man was equally unpleasant as Dunsmore or any of the other gentlemen.

Fin motioned to Miles. “While I’m acquainted with the Jenkinses, I believe Yardley is the one to ask.” He gave Miles a knowing smile.

Miles smiled tightly. “It would be my pleasure, Allington.” Miles tugged the man’s elbow, turning him toward Philip. “Lord Allington, may I introduce Mr. Philip Jenkins and his wife?” He then motioned to Grace, and his voice softened. “And this is his sister, Miss Grace Jenkins.”

Allington bowed deeply, giving Miles a chance to glance at Fin and shrug. He then turned his attention to Grace. What did she think of the man? From the smile on her face and the rosy hue of her cheeks, her initial impression seemed favorable, if not pleased.

Thunder and turf. Miles frowned.

But would her impression stay that way?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Allington looked to all of them, but his gaze always came back to Grace. He smiled, but it was more reminiscent of a wolf about to devour its prey. “You will perform this evening, Miss Jenkins, will you not?”

Grace smiled tightly. She flicked a look at Miles, who nodded ever so slightly to her.

She lifted her chin. “I had not planned to perform. We came to watch and enjoy the performances of others.”

Allington shook his head. “Nonsense. I must hear you.” He tilted his head to the side. “If your voice is even half as pleasing as your countenance, I shall be utterly enchanted.”

Grace pulled her lip between her teeth and looked at her sister-in-law. “What do you think, Elle?”

Allington smiled his wolfish grin again. “Would you at least consent to a duet?”

Grace looked to Miles. He held up his hands in front of him. “Do not look at me. I only sing at Christmas, and then only among family and close friends.”

She frowned.

Fin nudged him. “I can attest to that. He will do nothing but drag you down with him.”

A hint of a smile curved Grace’s lips. “I do not remember it being as bad as all that.”

Allington moved between Grace and Miles, blocking any further conversation. “I hoped you would consider singing with me?”

Grace licked her bottom lip—a motion that caught all of Miles’ attention. But she did not reply.

He rolled his eyes behind Allington’s back. The man had known Grace for less than five minutes, and he was suggesting a duet with her? It was beyond the pale.

“But we do not even know if our voices pair well.” She looked to those standing around her, as if hoping someone would save her from the situation she found herself in.

“Come now, Gracie. Is this not why we came? Everyone participates or there will be no entertainment.” Philip coaxed her. “What if Elle agreed to sing with you?” He turned to his wife. “What say you, Dearest? You would sing with her, would you not? The two of you pair very well together.”

Mrs. Jenkins’s eyes widened only slightly. Her mouth opened, but she closed it when she looked at Grace. “If it’s what Grace wishes, I will sing with her.”

Philip sighed and tugged his wife closer to his side. “Thank you, Ellie, dear. I simply wish for Grace to experience everything.”

“There are some experiences I am eager to forgo,” Grace muttered under her breath, but likely only Miles heard her.

Allington unfolded his arms and straightened. “If you will not sing with me, will you at least allow me to escort you to the front?” He paused.

“I’m certain it is unnecessary?—”

“Nonsense. I will brook no opposition.”

She looked at Miles askance, but he was at a loss. It was not as if he had any right to deny Allington such a request. And Philip, who held that right, seemed only too happy to allow it. “I am sure your performance will be unmatched.” Philip grinned.

Grace released a halting sigh. “Very well. If Elle is amiable to it, we shall sing together.”

Allington bowed to her. “And I shall escort you to the front.”

“I’ll go find us a song and inform Mrs. Macey of our intentions.” Elle moved away from their group.

Allington extended his arm to Grace. “Why do we not find a seat while we await your turn?”

Grace smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “Why do you not find a row of seats for us? I will join you after I fetch a glass of lemonade. My throat is far too dry to sing at the moment.” Her voice held a false tone.

“As is mine,” Miles set off in the same direction.

“Why did you not intervene with your friend?” Grace whispered through clenched teeth when he came up beside her. It had not taken as long as Miles thought for Grace to dismiss Lord Allington. It should not please him as much as it did.

“He is not my friend, in case you didn’t notice.” Miles clasped his hands behind his back. He may have told her a bouncer about Wetherby, Dunsmore, Marcrum, and Thornton being his friends, but he would not admit to Allington being one. This one was on Grace and Grace alone. “What did you wish me to say? I’m not your guardian. It was not my place to withhold my approval of his attentions.”

“You could have sided with me.” She fisted her hands at her side. “You could have told my brother that I need not perform. He listens to you, Mr. Yardley.”

Miles knew not what to say. “I believe you give me more credit than I deserve.”

Grace released a deep breath. “This is what you were speaking of the other day, was it not? I should just lift my chin and pretend it is exactly what I wished to do.”

He nodded. “It applies in this case also, yes.”

She pursed her lips together but then released them to take a sip of her lemonade. Her head dropped to the side. “What is Lord Allington about—asking me to sing with him? He hardly knows me. He has never heard me sing, yet he desired to sing a duet? That is odd, is it not?”

Miles nodded. She was not wrong. But he could not point to what the man’s motivations might be. Except, perhaps, to woo Grace. But why would Allington make his claim when he knew nothing of her? “You have nothing to worry about, Miss Jenkins. You have a lovely singing voice. It will all be fine in the end. I’m certain of it.”

“Do you really believe that? Or are you simply trying to set me at ease?” Grace eyed him with a penetrating gaze.

“I sincerely believe it.” Miles leaned against the table and crossed his ankle. The table shifted back and set him off balance. Attempting to right himself, he put out his hand, upending half a dozen glasses of lemonade. Liquid slowly seeped through the tablecloth and inched its way out in all directions.

Miles lifted his brows when he noticed the quiet that had settled over their section of the room. He lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders as he walked to Grace’s other side. He looked over at her and winked. “You see? The talking has already started again, and no one looks in our direction.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw a footman wave to a maid, who hurried over and began cleaning up the mess.

He waved his hand before him. “Scandal averted.”

She laughed, and he thought he might take flight. It had been so long since he’d heard her laugh in earnest. She had chuckled when they were with his sisters. But nothing like what she did then.

She nodded and took in a deep breath. “Very well. If something should happen?—”

“Which it won’t,” he interrupted.

She grinned at him. “But if it does, I will simply continue on as if nothing is amiss.”

He tipped his head to the side. “Exactly.”

They stopped next to Jenkins and his wife. “Where did Lord Allington go?” Miles looked around the room.

Philip nodded to the rows of chairs. “He went to secure us seats.”

Grace looked at Mrs. Jenkins. “I’m sorry to have involved you, Elle. But I am truly grateful to you. I don’t know what I should do if I had to stand up there by myself.”

“You would do just fine.” Mrs. Jenkins patted Grace’s arm. Even Miles could see a slight bit of trepidation in her face. “But do not trouble yourself, Grace. It was not so long ago that I was in a similar situation. I remember it well enough.”

Mrs. Macey stood at the front of the room and clapped for attention. “It’s time for our evening entertainments to begin.”

The conversations quieted as the sound of rustling fabrics filled the air.

Philip motioned toward the row of seats where Lord Allington sat. “Perhaps we should sit down.”

Grace gave him a grin and lifted her chin. “Yes, indeed.”

Allington sat on the aisle, with his walking stick sitting on the three seats to his left. Was that the only reason the man used the ridiculous affectation? To save seats at musicales?

Allington stood when they reached his side. He motioned for the others to move into the row. “Miss Jenkins, I saved this chair for you.” He motioned to the seat next to him.

Miles rolled his eyes. What a poppycock!

Philip and Mrs. Jenkins moved into the row. Miles followed in after. That would place him next to Grace.

She sat down and hunched over the music Mrs. Jenkins had secured from the front, mouthing the words.

Mrs. Jenkins leaned in close to Miles and whispered. “May I trade seats with you? I should like to study the music with Grace.”

Miles schooled his frown and nodded. “Of course. I should have considered that.”

She smiled and slid into the seat when Miles stood up. He settled into the seat next to Philip. “Are you ready for this?” Miles asked.

Philip grinned. “Indeed, I can scarce contain my anticipation.” If it had come from Fin or Freddie, or just about anyone else, Miles would have considered them in jest. But Philip looked genuinely excited.

Miles folded his arms over his chest. He would see how happy he was in four hours when another screeching young lady performed.

Mrs. Jenkins and Grace then bent their heads together and quietly reviewed the music.

Lord Allington glanced over at Miles, a smirk on his lips. He leaned to the side and pushed his walking stick beneath the chairs.

Mrs. Macey smiled out over the crowd as she announced the first number by Lady Elizabeth Hadington.

Miles grunted. It was just his luck that Mr. Tarpin, likely the tallest man in all of England, occupied the chair in front of Miles. It would be impossible for him to watch Grace sing. He would simply have to slide into the seat he exchanged with Mrs. Jenkins when the ladies stood for their turn. Grace’s performance was the only one he was interested in watching.

He slouched slightly and folded his arms across his chest.

“Are you pouting because you are not sitting beside her or because of Allington?” Fin’s hushed words sounded beside Miles’ ear. He turned to see his friend occupying the seat right behind him.

He shrugged. “What if it is both?”

Fin chuckled. “Then it’s just as I suspected.” He was quiet through the rest of Lady Elizabeth’s song, but during Miss Hancock’s piano number, Fin leaned forward again. “I saw you speaking with her at the drink table—you handled those glasses masterfully, I must say—and she seemed rather taken with you. The plan is working.”

Miles didn’t bother to reply or even look back at Fin. It would only encourage him to continue speaking. And that was not polite, no matter how poorly executed the musical number was.

Miles listened to the next few numbers with only half an ear. They were not terrible but neither were they memorable. Thus far it was a complete waste of an evening. He could be home reviewing Miss Barrington’s cause. He only had two more days before he presented it at the bar. An ache formed behind his eye.

After the fifth performance, Mrs. Macey stood. “Mrs. Jenkins and Miss Jenkins will now entertain us with a duet.”

The crowd offered polite applause as Grace and Mrs. Jenkins stood. As they made their way out to the aisle, Miles moved into the next seat. His foot hit into Allington’s walking stick. With an irritated grunt, Miles gave the stick a swift kick with the side of his foot.

Before he knew what was happening, there was a swish of fabric and a rather loud thump. Followed by a yelp.

Miles stood up and his mouth dropped at the same time as his stomach. There, sprawled on the floor, was Grace.

* * *

A gasp sounded throughout the room.

Lawks, I can hardly believe it. I tripped!

Grace lay on the floor for a moment with her eyes closed. Had she tempted fate by even mentioning this scenario to Mr. Yardley, or was it something else entirely? Mr. Yardley’s voice sounded in her head. Hold yourself with confidence, and no one will care much. It is when you fall to pieces over it that the gossips will start in on you.

She pulled her lips between her teeth and pushed her palms against the floor. Once she was on her knees, Elle had dropped down next to her. “Are you all right?”

Grace nodded and stood up just as Philip and Mr. Yardley tangled themselves up, each trying to get to her first.

Lord Allington had taken several noticeable steps away from the situation.

Grace sucked in a breath. She looked over and caught Mr. Yardley’s eye.

His eyes were wide with concern, but he gave her a single nod.

She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. Then, as if nothing had gone amiss, she smiled. Let out a small laugh even. Let the gossips talk about that.

“My apologies, Miss Jenkins,” Mr. Yardley whispered.

She shook her head. “It was not your fault, sir. It was that ridiculous walking stick,” she muttered through her smile. “Now, I believe it is our turn, Elle. Come along.” She glided to the front of the room.

Several laughs sounded, but Grace tuned them out. All she had to do was sing, and this would all be behind her.

Grace stood next to Elle and waited for the pianoforte to sound. Running her hands down the front of her dress, she lifted her chin high again and offered the crowd a dazzling smile. The laughter changed to murmurs of approval.

Grace looked over the room but stopped when she saw Mr. Yardley. He held her gaze. As the sound from the piano drifted into the air, she continued to watch him. It was as if he were giving her strength.

He smiled and gave her another nod of approval.

Her body relaxed. And she sang. Elle joined in, and their voices blended together. While Grace did not believe it was her best performance, it was as good as any other that evening. Better even, than some. And the applause after made her think that perhaps Mr. Yardley and Lady Evangeline might have had the right of it.

Elle hooked her arm through Grace’s, and she bit back the grunt of pain. They walked arm in arm gracefully down the aisle.

Grace smiled when she saw Mr. Yardley move into the seat next to Lord Allington, leaving the two vacant seats next to him for Elle and her.

Lord Allington scowled at Mr. Yardley, but he seemed not to notice.

Elle sat next to Philip, and Grace settled in the chair next to Mr. Yardley. She could not help but smile, even as a throbbing pain pulsed in her elbows and knees.

He dropped his head to the side as the next performance sounded. “Masterfully done, Miss Jenkins.”

She stared straight ahead, but her lips tugged up. “Thank you, Mr. Yardley. Your advice was well given.”

Mr. Yardley sucked in a breath next to her and carefully lifted her arm.

She looked down at obvious blood marring the silk of her gloves. Lawks, she had not realized she’d drawn blood. Would Lady Evangeline realize how true her words had been?

“You’re hurt,” he whispered.

Now that the thrill of the successful performance was over, the sting of her fall was difficult to ignore. “It doesn’t hurt very much,” she lied. She nodded to the front. “Thank you for helping me when I was up there. You’re a good friend, Mr. Yardley.” She paused. That did not feel right. He was more than a friend. But what exactly that made him, she could not say. “I’m certain I could not have done it without you.”

She finally looked over at him. His brow creased, and the corners of his mouth pulled down. Had she said something wrong? Or was he just concerned for her?

She reached over and put her hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m lucky to have you here with me tonight.”

“Yes,” Mr. Yardley sighed. “Very lucky, indeed,” he muttered.