The Marquis At Midnight (17 page)

‘How very unpleasant for you.’ Hester
replied, voice perfectly composed. Grace could only feel admiration
for her friend, especially as she had been bordering on hysteria
not thirty minutes before.

‘I confess, I found myself perturbed.’
Lovington gave a rather theatrical shudder. ‘The idea of thieves
creeping through my house. Whatever is the world coming to? A man
cannot feel safe in his bed.’

‘Perfectly understandable. Did you lose
anything of value?’ Lady Brunton enquired. ‘I believe there have
been several robberies of late. Jewelry and the like.’

‘Yes,’ Lovington agreed softly, ‘some
jewelry was taken. It was nothing that I could not live without,
however.’

He’s enjoying this, Grace thought angrily.
Poor Hester. What must she be feeling?

Whatever she was feeling, she had herself
too well under control to show any signs of distress. ‘I am
relieved to hear it.’

They lingered for a few minutes longer
before Lovington made his departure. Leaving Lady Brunton to her
pug, the two women walked together for some moments in silence
before Hester spoke, her voice strangely flat.

‘Very well, then. We will tell Morvyn the
situation when he calls this afternoon.’

Grace put a hand out to squeeze her friend’s
arm. ‘I am sorry, my dear. That was extremely unpleasant.’

‘It is my own fault,’ Hester said, before
adding with considerable passion, 'Oh, but how I loathe that
man!’

‘That man might be
dangerous.
If
he
is a French spy.’

‘Well, let us see how dangerous he is when
his activities are discovered,’ Hester said viciously. ‘I do
believe they hang a man for such offenses and never have I known a
man who deserves to hang so badly.’

‘How are we going to approach this?’ Hester
asked, as they waited for the arrival of Morvyn that afternoon. She
had taken to pacing again.

‘We will tell him the facts.’

Hester paused, looking at Grace. ‘I feel
quite ill.’

‘Would you like me to tell
him?’ Grace asked quickly. Her friend
looked
quite ill, pale and peaky. ‘I
would be more than happy to, you know. In three or four more hours,
Porter will be returning. Perhaps you should go and lay down for an
hour.’

‘I could not sleep. I am far too
wretched.’

‘But you might feel better if you just close
your eyes for a while. We can depend on the marquis, Hester. He
will think of a way out of this tangle.’

Hester touched a hand to
her head and sighed. ‘I
do
have a headache,’ she admitted, ‘but I should be
there with you. It is quite wrong of me to thrust this entirely
onto you.’

‘Nonsense. I am just the person to tell him.
I can be a little dispassionate, whereas you,’ Grace shook her head
and smiled, ‘you are far too inclined to be emotional about it.
Understandably so.’

Hester hesitated for a moment longer, then
nodded. ‘In that case, yes please. I will go and lay down, but if
you need me, if he needs to talk to me, then do come and get
me.’

‘I will. And Hester?’
Hester looked at her enquiringly, face wan and drawn. ‘If he feels
that this is too important
not
to tell Porter?’

There was a small pause, then a sigh. ‘Then
we must tell him, of course.’ Hester said wryly. ‘What is one
woman’s idiocy compared to the welfare of England?’

Grace smiled at that, but privately she
wondered just how bad a man Silas Lovington was. Could he really be
a French spy? He was certainly an unpleasant man, but to betray the
country in which one was born? It seemed incredible.

Nonetheless, when the Marquis of Morvyn was
announced thirty minutes later, she was extremely grateful. Grace
was glad that she had persuaded Hester to rest, but it had the
drawback of being left with her own thoughts and her thoughts had
been making her more and more uneasy. So it was that when Morvyn
walked into the room, she sprang to her feet, hurrying forward to
greet him.

He looked at her, surprise
and pleasure on his face, and she came to an abrupt stop, heart
clenching at the sight of him.
Oh dear
God, if this is not love, then I have discovered an entirely new
emotion!
But Grace knew that it
was
love. She had fallen
in love with the Marquis of Morvyn; hopelessly, head over heels in
love. Far from disturbing her, the knowledge warmed her
through.

He came forward, capturing both of her hands
in his and raising first one, then the other, to his lips. ‘Lady
Pemberton.’ His voice was warm and deep and a shiver chased down
her spine at the underlying note of intimacy she heard in it.

‘My lord,’ she replied, looking up at
him.

‘Will your ladyship be requiring tea?’ Marsh
inquired from behind them.

Morvyn and Grace’s eyes locked, remembering
the last time they had shared a tea tray together. ‘Would you care
for tea, my lord?’ she demanded softly.

‘I would indeed.’

She had the distinct impression that he
meant something else entirely, but she nodded to Marsh. ‘Yes,
please.’

Alone together, he continued to hold her
hands, his eyes roaming over her face. ‘Are you well?’

‘I am perfectly well, thank
you, but I need to talk to you most particularly.’ She tugged him
forward, leading him across to the sofa. They
should
be sitting on separate chairs,
but she did not want to deprive herself of his closeness and
holding his hand was too enjoyable to abandon.

Half turning towards him, she determined to
launch into the matter at hand, but Morvyn had other ideas. Taking
her chin between his fingers, he bent his head and kissed her.
There was nothing restrained about it. Morvyn put his heart into
the kiss, his lips warm and insistent, and Grace returned it
instinctively, allowing her own to soften and open beneath the
increasingly insistent pressure, a willing participant of his
urgent exploration. As it had the previous day, his kiss led to a
fervent need for more, igniting a rush of desire within her that
coursed through her, heat licking along her veins, kicking awake
that same wicked desire for the man that she had felt yesterday.
Suddenly, her breasts were heavy and prickling with need, while
that warm, dark place between her legs quivered in anticipation of
what was to come.

When he raised his head, she was dazed,
melting with a yearning that left her desperately wanting more.

‘Dear God,’ she whispered. ‘What is it that
happens to me when you are nearby? You deprive me of all sense of
reason.’

He laughed, but it had a ragged edge.
Clearly he was just as aroused as she was. ‘Do not try and
understand it. I gave that up yesterday when I almost seduced you
in a drawing room. At some stage, I fully intend to discuss our
future. I just wish I could do so without the distraction of your
lips.’ He looked at them briefly, then glanced away quickly.
‘Hester’s servants will think we’re incorrigible,’ he added
unevenly.

The servants. Yes. She had
ordered tea and just as well. Difficult as it was to remember, she
had to discuss this business with Lovington and it wasn’t going to
happen if she lost her head and let him make love to her. In the
drawing room.
Again
.

Grace took a deep breath and collected her
disordered thoughts. She deliberately decided to avoid his
reference to their future. He was right. They did need to discuss
it, but there were more pressing things to deal with. ‘My lord, I
really must talk to you. It is very important.’

He nodded. ‘Good. It might serve to distract
me.’

She looked at him, diverted. ‘Do I really
have so profound an effect on you?’

‘Do you really think I go around kissing
women in other men’s houses,’ he countered.

A corner of her mouth lifted. ‘Other men’s
houses. I cannot help but wonder what you do in your own.’

‘I believe you would find out very quickly
if I were to take you there.’ The raw edge was just a little more
jagged now. Grace heard him take a deep breath and touched his
hand.

‘I am sorry. I think I’d best tell you what
I must. It will help to distract us both.’

‘Something must,’ Morvyn said with feeling,
‘for I have not had this little control of myself for many a long
year!’

‘In that case…’ And Grace began, outlining
exactly what had been going on over the past week, what had
happened to Hester, Lovington’s involvement, and his possession of
the Woodward necklace. Half way through her recital tea arrived and
she broke off. They waited until the maid was gone, but as soon as
the door was shut, Morvyn spoke quietly. ‘Go on.’

So she continued, leaving nothing out, until
at last she fell silent.

While it had seemed an excellent plan,
telling the marquis about Lovington and their troubles, Grace
suddenly found that she was now apprehensive. She and Hester – and
poor Bertie – had been stumbling around like three complete
scatterbrains. She could hardly anticipate approbation for any of
their actions.

After a moment, she stole a look at his
face. He was regarding her steadily. ‘And why won’t she go to
Porter with this?’

‘I thought, at first, it was because she
feared he would be angry with her, but now...’ Grace hesitated.
‘Now I think she fears that he will be disappointed in her. She
promised him that she would no longer play loo and she broke that
promise. The knowledge has been making her quite sick. That and the
loss of his family’s necklace. She feels as if she has been a
complete fool and that she has let Porter down.’

Morvyn sighed. ‘I understand, but I daresay
he will find out about it anyway. Lovington will have to be brought
in. I will need to speak to Lord Abercrombie as soon as
possible.’

Grace chewed her bottom lip. ‘Couldn’t you
just arrest Lovington and get the necklace back, somehow?’

Morvyn gave her a look, gray eyes grave. ‘It
is not quite that simple.’

‘No,’ Grace sighed, ‘I did not think it
would be. Poor Hester.’

‘Poor Grace,’ he murmured, hand moving to
cover her own. ‘This predicament has put you in an untenable
situation.’

Grace looked down at the hand covering her
own and, once again, allowed that she found this man delightful in
every way. She had thought that he might be angry, justifiably so,
considering the circumstances, but she had not anticipated
kindness. It served to reinforce the knowledge that the man beside
her was a fine man and her love for him grew just a little deeper.
Passion, especially the passion that they shared, must be a rare
and wonderful thing, but all relationships needed a foundation on
which to build. She had spent so many months hating him that it had
been very easy to ignore what instinct had been trying to tell her;
the Marquis of Morvyn was a kind and honorable gentleman.

‘My lord...’

‘Sherry, for God’s sake. It is Sheridan, but
I would take it as a particular kindness if you would call me
Sherry.’

She looked up at him with a smile. It was a
surprisingly whimsical name for a man who could appear so grave.
Although her preconceptions about him being the kind to stand on
ceremony had disappeared some days ago, there was a playfulness
about ‘Sherry’ that seemed to put him in an entirely different
light yet again.

‘Sherry,’ she repeated, testing the word out
on her tongue.

‘Grace,’ he murmured, voice deepening. He
bent his head to deliver a swift, hard kiss, but raised it again
before each of them lost all sense of time and place. ‘I do not
know what your plans are for the future, or how you stand in
relation to Justin’s estate, and this might not be the time or the
place to examine it, but I want you to know,’ his other hand
captured her free one and he half turned towards her so he could
look into her eyes, ‘I have found the one woman who can give me
everything I ever dreamed of and more, in a wife.’ He smiled and
shook his head. ‘This is not the proposal that I had intended and
so I will not make it into one. When that happens I would wish the
circumstances to be different.’

‘So this is
not
a proposal?’ Grace’s
voice was a little tremulous.
I must be
mad. He must be mad. But oh, it is a fine madness!

‘Not yet,’ he whispered. ‘More of a
statement of intent, my sweet, sweet Grace.’ And he leaned his
forehead against her own, resting it there for a long moment.
Raising his head, he pulled himself together. ‘Unfortunately, our
own happiness must wait. What you have told me has considerable
bearing on what is happening now, or so I understand. New plans are
being drafted that will affect what takes place on the continent. I
think you are entirely right in thinking that Hester was selected
to provide Lovington with what he required. Her visit to that club
and Lovington’s presence there. All orchestrated.’

‘Yes, but will Porter see it that way?’
Grace said glumly.

He rose to his feet and smiled down at her.
‘I will speak to him.’

Her heart turned over in her chest. Dearest,
darling Sherry...

When he had gone, after a final kiss that
had come close to bringing them both undone, Grace went to put her
head around Hester’s door. She was asleep, one hand tucked beneath
her cheek. Grace closed the door softly. Heaven only knew, her
friend needed to sleep. She wondered what Lord Abercrombie would
say when Morvyn told him his story. She wondered if Porter would
learn of it before he returned home that night.

I shall simply make him
understand that it was not entirely Hester’s fault. Lovington went
after her, ensured she went to that club and lost so much
money.
Hester could be foolish, but she was
not a bad person. Surely Porter would be able to see
that?