Intimate Deception (33 page)

His gaze moved back to her stomach. “I see it won’t be long before you present Raeborn with his heir. Much sooner than I anticipated. My most heartfelt congratulations to you both.”

Grace smiled. “Thank you. We are both looking forward to the event.”

“I’m sure you are,” Germaine said on a polite bow.

Grace looked toward Vincent, then back to Germaine. “It was nice seeing you again, but if you will excuse me, I was about to retire.”

“Of course. Good day, Your Grace.”

Vincent ushered Grace to the door. He was annoyed with the way his cousin had looked at her with a belittling expression because Grace was so close to delivering. As if the fact that Grace had conceived their babe before their wedding lowered Germaine’s opinion of her.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” he said, looking over his shoulder to the side table where several crystal decanters of liquor sat. “I’ll escort Her Grace upstairs and return shortly.”

“Of course, Raeborn. Take your time.”

Vincent walked Grace to her room and assured her he had no intention of leaving the house, then walked back to the study where his cousin and Parker waited.

“What have you found out?” Vincent sat in the chair behind his desk. Percival Parker sat in the wing chair in front of him to his left, and his cousin sat in the chair to his right.

“We found him, Your Grace,” Mr. Parker said, a smile of satisfaction on his face.

Germaine leaned forward in his chair. “He’s been hiding in a house on Border’s Lane.”

The muscles in Vincent’s jaw tightened.

“He’s been staying with a Mrs. Jordean,” Parker added. “She runs an establishment that caters to gentlemen who have peculiar tastes.”

Vincent’s stomach turned. “Is he still there?”

“He left that establishment a few hours ago. I followed him on foot until he reached the market area, then he hired a hansom cab and I lost him. But don’t worry. We know where to find him now. He can’t hide for long.”

Vincent slid back his chair and looked out the window behind his desk. An uncontrollable fury grew inside him, fury increasing every time he thought of the attempts on his life and on Grace’s.

“What are you going to do, Raeborn?”

Vincent slowly turned to face his guests. “I’m not going to give him a chance to try to kill me again. Hire as many men as you need, Parker. But I want that house watched twenty-four hours a day. The minute he shows up, I want to know it.”

“Do you want us to go in after him?”

“No. I want to be there. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

Both Parker and Kevin smiled, but Vincent didn’t. How could one smile when it was likely that before the sun set on tomorrow he’d be responsible for a human being’s death?

Grace woke the next morning with a nagging backache. She attributed her restless night to Vincent, Baron Fentington, Kevin Germaine, and Mr. Parker. They were all responsible for her fitful sleep.

Perhaps that was why she felt so strange today. Too little sleep, too much worry, and the premonition that something she could not control was about to happen.

Grace finished her morning routine and went in search of Vincent. She didn’t know why, but she felt an overwhelming need to be close to him. To keep him close to her. It was just another phase of this pregnancy she couldn’t explain. Her sharpened awareness that something was not right.

She’d felt it from the moment Germaine and Parker left yesterday. Vincent had been quiet and withdrawn, but each time she asked him what was wrong, he answered that it was nothing. Only that Parker had seen Fentington, but that he’d lost him. Nothing to be concerned over.

Grace walked into the dining room. Vincent sat at the table, a half-filled plate still in front of him.

“There you are.” She walked to him and accepted the kiss he placed on her cheek.

“Good morning, Grace. You look especially lovely today.”

Grace smiled. “Thank you. Alice and I had to work a long time. It’s difficult when your body is shaped like a clumsy barge sailing down the river instead of a sleek clipper ship. Caroline always looked so regal with her babes. Even just before she delivered she didn’t look as cumbersome as I do now. And I still have over a month to wait.”

“Perhaps it is because Caroline is several inches taller than you. She has more room to hide a babe.”

Grace sat at the table with a heavy sigh. “That must be it.”

Vincent took her plate to the sideboard and filled it. “Do you want eggs this morning?”

Grace nodded. “And one of those oat muffins and a fruit pastry. And a meat pie.”

Vincent looked over his left shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “You must be hungry.”

“It’s your son. He’s got quite the appetite.”

Vincent smiled and placed her heaping plate in front of her. He sat in his chair and sipped his coffee while she ate.

“Perhaps you’d like company today, Grace? Perhaps Lady Josalyn or Lady Francine could visit this afternoon?”

“I’d rather spend the day with you.” She ate another bite of coddled eggs with her toast and orange marmalade. “The nursery is almost finished. I want you to see it.”

“Perhaps tomorrow, Grace.”

Grace lifted her gaze to his. She put down her fork when she saw the serious expression on his face. “What’s wrong, Vincent?”

“Nothing. I just thought you might like company is all.”

A stabbing unease rushed through her body. Her breath caught and she clutched her hand to her stomach where a
pain shot through her. She forced herself to take several deep breaths until the stitch in her side went away.

Vincent frowned. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said after the pain eased. “It was just a catch. I think I’ve been sitting too long. I need some exercise. Perhaps we could walk in the garden?”

“I’d love to. As soon as you’ve finished.”

Grace ate a little more of her breakfast but didn’t have the appetite she had before. Something was wrong. Even the babe felt it. Another cramp caught in her side.

Grace finished her tea, then walked with Vincent in the garden. She told herself it was her imagination that he held her closer than usual while they walked. And her imagination that when his fingers twined with hers, there was a greater urgency in his touch. And her imagination that he studied her face as if memorizing her every feature.

He stopped before the small pond in the center of the garden. A beautiful swan sailed gracefully across the quiet water, and several ducks swam back and forth, from side to side. She and Vincent sat together on a stone bench and watched the peaceful scene; then he kissed her.

She knew the desperation she felt in his kisses was not her imagination. It was real.

They stayed out-of-doors longer than usual, both of them hesitant to go inside. Both of them reluctant to have this perfect day end. But Grace needed to rest. The ache in her back was not lessening but increasing. And the stitch in her side refused to go away but darted through her with regularity.

“Are you ready to go in?” he asked a little later.

“Soon. I want to sit with you a little longer.”

Vincent smiled at her, then lifted his gaze to the path when Carver came toward them.

“Mister Germaine is here, Your Grace. He seems to be in a—”

Vincent’s cousin was fast on Carver’s heels, nearly knocking the butler to the ground. “Raeborn! He’s back. Parker’s watching him.”

Vincent stiffened beside Grace, and the blood in her veins turned to ice. A fear greater than any she’d ever known twisted its gnarled fingers around her heart.

“No, Vincent. Don’t go. Leave him be.”

“I can’t, Grace. You know I can’t.”

“Then send for Wedgewood and Carmody. Don’t go until they can go with you.”

He didn’t answer but pulled her into his arms and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.” He dropped his arms from around her.

“Vincent, no.” She couldn’t keep the fear from her voice. Couldn’t keep the panic from stealing the air she needed to breathe.

Vincent paused.

“Hurry, Raeborn!” Germaine bellowed. “Or you’ll lose him.”

“I have to go, Grace.”

Vincent pulled her into his arms and pressed a last kiss to her mouth.

Grace was frantic to hold him and not let him leave. But one look at the determined expression on his face and she knew it was useless. She lifted her face and kissed him with all the passion she felt. With all the love she had for him.

He dropped his hands from around her and Grace hugged herself, the absence of his body from hers a loss that nearly took her to her knees.

“Carver.”

Carver was instantly at their side.

“Take care of your mistress.”

“With my life, Your Grace.”

Vincent turned and was gone, the sound of his footsteps fading to silence.

Grace stared after him, fighting to keep the tears from consuming her. She hugged her arms around her bulging stomach and sucked in a gasp as another sharp pain stabbed through her.

G
race paced Vincent’s study like a caged animal. She needed to be here, in this room, where she felt closest to him. Where she could see him at his desk, breathe in the clean smell that always reminded her of him. Where she could close her eyes and hear the deep sound of his voice.

She rubbed her hands over their babe and fought the tears that wanted to fall. There had to be something she could do. She didn’t know how she’d survive if something happened to him.

A picture of Vincent lying on the ground flashed through her mind, his face pale, his blood soaking into the dirt. She clamped her hands over her mouth to stop a cry from escaping. She never should have let him go. She should have done something to keep him here. At least until Wedgewood and Carmody arrived.

She continued pacing, then stopped when another sharp pain gripped her.

“Cook sent a tray,” Carver said, opening the door for one of the downstairs maids to carry in hot tea and pastries. Deep worry lines etched his forehead. “Is everything all right, Your Grace?”

Grace took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Yes, Carver. Tell Cook thank you.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

Carver closed the door behind him and left her alone. Grace looked at the tea service and thought how routine and familiar the gold-leafed teapot with matching cups looked sitting there. The antithesis to the turmoil raging through her. She looked again to his desk, expecting to see him sitting there. She started when the door opened.

A breath caught in her throat. “Mr. Germaine?”

“Good afternoon again, Your Grace.”

Her heart raced. She reached for something to steady her. “Is something wrong? Where’s Vincent?”

“He’s fine. Probably taking care of Fentington at this very moment.”

“Then why have you come? You should be with him.”

“Your husband was worried about you. He insisted I return to stay with you.”

Grace tried to stamp down the questions that crowded her mind. What was wrong with Vincent that he’d send his cousin back here? She wasn’t the one in danger. He was. “I’m perfectly safe, Mr. Germaine. Please go back to help Vincent.”

He softly closed the door and walked into the room. “I’m afraid I promised I’d protect you.” Germaine stopped beside the tray Cook had sent up.

“I see you were about to have tea. That sounds wonderful. Would you mind if I joined you?”

Grace’s mind spun in confusion as Germaine sat in one of Vincent’s oversize chairs and stretched out his legs. He smiled while he waited for her to pour, as if this were the most ordinary of days.