Grace felt a chill of dread engulf her. “I see.”
“Do you? It would have been so perfect for you to marry Fentington. He would have taken you off my hands and given me a healthy profit in the bargain. And I was so sure you were still a virgin. I never imagined that you weren’t. No one has ever shown an interest in you.”
He spun around to face her. “Who have you been giving yourself to, Grace? One of the grooms? Surely no one of quality would want you, even if you gave your favors away freely.”
Her legs buckled beneath her. “No. Surely no one of quality would want me.”
“And you’d best pray he hasn’t planted his seed in you. If you think you can come back here and foist your bastard
off on me to support, you’re sadly mistaken. Now get out before I have you thrown out!”
Grace stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. “Be assured, my lord, you can sleep well tonight knowing you have rid your home of all things unwanted and undesirable.”
Grace turned around and forced her legs to carry her across the room. She reached out a trembling hand and opened the door, then closed it behind her without a backward glance.
Their butler was waiting in the hall. “George, have a wagon brought to the front.”
“Now, my lady?”
“Yes. Now.”
“Very well.”
Grace made her way up the stairs, refusing to let a single tear fall. She’d realized when she gave away her virginity that her life would never be the same and had made up her mind to accept the repercussions, no matter what.
“Esther, have some trunks brought up, then come back to help me pack.”
Grace ignored the shocked look on her maid’s face and threw open the doors to her clothes closet and pulled out her gowns. She had no idea where she was going or how she would live, but she would get by. She had no choice.
R
aeborn took the steps to Madam Genevieve’s two at a time. He’d waited the week as she’d demanded and cursed her every day for having the upper hand, for forcing him to bend to her will.
How had this happened? What possible reason could any woman have for wanting to give her virginity to a man she didn’t know? To a man she’d never met?
The more he thought about that night the angrier he got. He’d been used. Singled out for some reason only Genevieve knew.
By the time he reached the front entrance, he was more inclined to kick the door off its hinges than to knock. Fortunately Jenkins didn’t give him the choice. The door opened before he reached for the brass knocker, and the familiar butler stood back to let him enter.
“Where is she?”
The butler bowed respectfully, showing no sign that he realized Raeborn’s temper was close to doing someone harm. “Good day, Your Grace. Madam Genevieve is waiting for you in the Gardenia—”
Vincent didn’t wait for him to finish but stormed across the foyer and past the familiar half dozen sitting rooms. When he reached the Gardenia Room, the same room in
which he’d met with her one week earlier, he threw open the door and entered.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said when he halted in front of her. She pointed to a chair angled before the fireplace. “Would you care to sit?”
“Where is she?
Who
is she?”
Genevieve lifted the corners of her lips into something that resembled a smile but was not quite and walked past him to close the door.
Raeborn felt his temper snap. “I want her name, Genevieve! I want to know who I slept with. I want to know the name of the woman whose virginity I took under the assumption that she was one of your girls.” He sucked in a deep breath that left an ache inside his chest. “Dammit! I want to know the name of the woman I could have left pregnant!”
Genevieve paused with her hand still on the closed door, then dropped it and walked over to a small serving cart against the wall. “Such a dominating air may serve you well in the House, Raeborn, or in your own home, but you know me well enough to realize it has no effect here.” She poured them each a glass of wine and handed him one. “Please, let’s sit down and discuss this rationally.”
Raeborn took the wine, keeping his gaze locked with hers. A part of him wanted to throttle her. Another part trusted her enough to know that whatever her reason, the need to do what she did had been compelling enough to leave her no other choice. He understood her well enough to know her actions had been born of desperation.
He walked to the settee and waited for her to join him.
She stopped in front of him but did not sit. “I need to preface what I’m about to tell you by explaining that there was no hidden agenda behind what we did. In fact,” she added, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly, “we both hoped you’d never notice you’d just made love to a virgin.”
“Was that the reason you added something to my drink?”
“It was just to relax you. To keep you from being too aware of what was happening. It would have been totally effective on most men.”
“Obviously I’m not most men,” he added without humor.
“Obviously.”
Genevieve sat on the edge of the settee, her outward appearance relaxed and composed. Only her clutched hands in her lap gave evidence that she was not.
He sat down and waited for her to begin.
“This is not easy for me, Raeborn. I gave a friend a promise and she will know I betrayed her.”
“You should have known that would happen when you included me in your plan.”
His voice contained none of his usual ease, but was hard and cold. His anger prevented him from trying to understand why Genevieve had used him. “First of all, I want to know her name.”
Genevieve hesitated, then answered his question. “Her name is Grace. You don’t need to know more.”
Raeborn started to object, then stopped when he saw the determined look on Genevieve’s face.
“She is my best friend, Raeborn. Probably my only friend. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”
“You have already proved that. At my expense.”
“And I would do it again.”
He felt his temper erupt. “I just want to know why this Grace needed to play the whore for one night!”
Genevieve sucked in a deep breath and turned to face him squarely. He knew from the look in her eyes that if their roles were different and Genevieve were a man, they’d be facing each other over pistols in the morning. When she spoke, the tone of her voice proved it.
“Never…” She stopped to glare at him with more intensity. “
Never
put Grace in the same class as me. She doesn’t even deserve to have her name whispered in the same breath with mine.”
He stared at her serious expression, then nodded his head in acquiescence. “My apologies.”
“Grace came to me because she was desperate. Her father was forcing her younger sister to marry a despicable man old enough to be her father. To keep her sister safe, Grace agreed to take her place.”
“Marriage to the man would have been so terrible?”
Genevieve rose from the settee and stood in front of the window. “Yes. Every hour with him would have been hell on earth.”
Raeborn watched Genevieve’s shoulders shake with each shuddering breath. She turned and scorched him with a look of repulsion.
“His first wife died birthing his only child, a daughter. His second wife killed herself before she’d been married a full six months. The man is evil in the cruelest sense of the word. His sexual depravity and vile penchants make the devil appear saintly.” She paced in agitation. “He is a man of some means and gives all who know him the impression
of being ever so pious and righteous, while behind closed doors his actions are foul and perverted.” She paused and turned her haunted face to the window. “He’s an abomination to everything good. Lewd and despicable. Not fit to be called human.”
He rose from the settee and stood behind her. Her whole body shook uncontrollably, and he wanted to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. But he was afraid she’d recoil from him if he reached out to her.
“She could have refused. She was of age.”
“But her sister wasn’t. Grace had to agree to his offer until her sister was safely married.”
“Is she married now?”
“She was married two weeks ago.” She paused, and Vincent saw her shoulders relax. They lifted when she took a deep breath. “On the day of the wedding, the man informed her that their betrothal would proceed without delay. There was only the simple matter of the papers to sign assuring him that she was a virgin before he would take the steps necessary to make her his bride.”
“Assurance?”
“Yes. Her signed and witnessed assurance that the woman he was taking as his wife was a virgin. One couldn’t expect a man so closely created in God’s image to accept a tainted woman as his bride. A written oath vowing of her virginity was essential before she could be sacrificed on the altar of perversion.”
Vincent felt a certain revulsion. “So to keep from marrying him she needed to lose her virginity.”
“Grace knew that simply refusing him would do no good. It would only incur her father’s wrath and make
the man more determined to have her. He’s relentless when he wants something and won’t let anything get in his way. He is convinced he’s been sent by God to punish women for their sins. To abuse and humiliate and beat them into submission until they repent for their immoral ways.”
She turned to face him. “Grace knew this was her only choice. The man would never force marriage on her if she refused to swear that she was a virgin. Coming here, giving herself to you had been her choice. She made it freely.”
“Why me?”
Genevieve smiled. “You were
my
choice. Who else could I have entrusted my most cherished friend to?”
Raeborn shrugged off the embarrassing compliment and walked across the room, needing to put some distance between them. A fire crackled in the grate, the flames licking upward in slow, mesmerizing movements. He spread his arms and braced his hands on the mantle.
“Does she know who I am?”
“No. Grace came to me with certain stipulations. One—that the man to whom she gave her virginity be a stranger to her.”
“What else?”
Genevieve smiled. “That the man she slept with be older than she. Grace is twenty-nine and considers herself quite old. She didn’t want the man she slept with to be younger.”
Raeborn arched his eyebrows in a questioning gesture. “Anything else?”
“She was most emphatic in her demand that whomever I chose for her be unmarried. She didn’t want to give herself to another woman’s husband.”
He stared into the fire. Finally he took a deep breath and pushed himself away from the mantle. “Where do I find her?”
“She does not want to be found, Raeborn.”
“I don’t care.”
“She’s not your responsibility. Leave her be.”
“She became my responsibility when the two of you included me in your scheme.”
“That was not our intent.”
“That no longer matters. I have to know if she’s carrying a babe.”
He heard Genevieve suck in a breath. “It’s only been one week. She can’t even suspect that she might be.”
“I need to make sure.”
“And then what?”
He shook his head. “I will find a position for her on one of my estates. Someplace where I can be assured that she is cared for. As well as the babe—if there is one.”
“A position?”
“Yes. What position does she hold now? Kitchen help? Upstairs maid? Ladies’ maid? What particular talents does she have?”
He turned around and found Genevieve smiling at him. “I’m sure she will be excellent in whatever position you find for her, Your Grace. She’s quite accomplished.”
“Then I will find her something. Something she’s used to doing. But nothing too strenuous in case she finds herself in a delicate condition.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Genevieve said, refilling her glass with wine and taking a sip. “But I doubt she will accept a position in your household.”
Raeborn thought he heard a hint of humor in Genevieve’s voice, and it irritated him. “What more do you expect me to do, woman? I didn’t ask for this problem to be thrust upon me. I don’t want another woman to risk bearing my child, especially a woman I don’t know and a child I can never claim.”
“I understand,” Genevieve whispered.
“Just tell me where I can find her and I’ll make sure she’s provided for. Maybe there won’t be anything to worry about. Maybe I didn’t get her with child.”
But even as he said the words, his body broke out in a cold sweat and his stomach knotted painfully. He took several deep breaths and told himself this time it would not be so bad. At least she was not his wife. At least he could distance himself from her if she did find herself in difficulty. At least he would not have to live through her birthing pains, then her death. He would meet with her, offer her a position and a generous settlement, and never see her again.
“Where can I find her?”
Genevieve absently straightened the flowers in one of the bouquets sitting on a small table, removing wilted petals from the otherwise perfect blooms. Without glancing in his direction, she went over to a sideboard and picked up a pitcher, then added some water to the arrangements.