Grace’s heart lurched in its beat as she gazed at the beautiful ivory brocade dress her friend Lady Pippa Ravenscroft had made for her. It had been a birthday present, and it was one of Grace’s most prized possessions.
Not to mention that it was one of her most valuable possessions. The gown was a masterpiece with ornate silver buttons, matching trim, and gauze netting so fine you could see through it. To make it even more beautiful, it was adorned with tiny, perfectly matched pearl beads that possessed a luster that glowed from within.
Grace rested her head in her hands as she turned to stare out the window at the small garden in the back of her humble home. Though she usually loved to sit at her miniature Louis XV desk as she worked, today was the exception. Before her, the household account book laid open, once again telling a story she had grown quite weary of reading.
She didn’t have enough money to pay her bills this month. The butcher and coal man had already sent two overdue invoices. It was only a matter of time before her rent would come due.
She’d always prided herself on her quick ability to make hard decisions and never second-guess herself. However, the decision to sell the dress hurt. She’d only been able to wear the lovely gown once to Pippa’s wedding that had occurred earlier in the day at the Duke of Pelham’s London home, Ardeerton House. Lady Pippa Ardeerton and the Marquess of Ravenscroft’s wedding ceremony had been beautiful, and Grace had felt like a queen in the gown. Alas, she had hoped to wear it at least three more times before she’d have to sell it.
Even if she wasn’t running out of gowns to sell, her situation was dire. She stared at the parchment in front of her. If she didn’t find a solution quickly, she would be forced to write her brother-in-law and ask if he could loan her some money to tide her over. No doubt he’d make an appearance and start lecturing her about her spendthrift ways. She clenched her fist so tightly that she could feel her nails digging into her palm. She would do anything to avoid that fate. The man thrived on pointing out how she had failed in every aspect of her life.
“My lady?” Her only servant, Theodore Tinniswood, peeked his head around the corner. “I’m about to head to the market.” He pointed to the dress across the sofa. “Is that the garment you’d like for me to take?”
Grace hesitated for a moment. This would impact her livelihood. How could she navigate society as an accepted ton member if she didn’t appear the part?
Everyone called her Governess for her ability to lead her clients out of scandal while keeping them from the jaws of society’s machinations. She taught them manners and deportment and quizzed them on titles and precedence. If it was essential to the ton, she taught it to her charges. She also helped them find their perfect matches in the dizzying world of the marriage market. However, her current list of clients had dwindled. It seemed that no one was in a rush to marry this year, and there weren’t many ton members embroiled in a scandal or misbehaving. Not an ideal situation when one was trying to save money to buy a home. It was a disaster if one was trying to pay their monthly bills.
“How much money do you think you can sell it for?” She gazed at the account books. If heaven had any mercy for women like her who lived independently, then the gown should fetch a pretty penny. Every inch of her skin crawled as she waited for her elderly servant to answer.
“I can’t rightly say, my lady.” He scratched his nearly bald head as he examined the dress. “It’s a beautiful gown, but Lady Eskridge had her lady’s maid bring ten ballgowns to the market last week. Mrs. Martin still had them for sale at her stall yesterday.”
Grace nodded once. She would not cower when forced to make hard decisions. “Would you fetch my blue velvet heels and take those as well? Only sell the dress and shoes together if you can get three pounds or more.”
Theodore smiled slightly.
Grace hated that smile as she knew what would come next.
“I have a little money saved for a rainy day, my lady. You are more than welcome to borrow it.”
She shook her head. Though she was desperate, she had never accepted Theodore’s offer. She might not have riches, but she still had her pride.
“I would never take any of your savings.” She forced herself to hold her servant’s sympathetic gaze. “It means the world to me that you’re so generous.”
“Of course, ma’am. The offer is always open.” Reverently, he picked up the dress. “I’ll take good care of this for you.”
“Thank you, Theodore.”
“Are you accepting callers?”
Grace nodded. Both she and her loyal servant knew she couldn’t afford not to. Her father had ensured that Theodore, or as he preferred to be called Theo, had a pension for all his years as the family’s butler, and thank goodness for Grace, her servant had told her he would never consider retirement as long as Grace needed him.
Heaven knew she needed him. She’d been left almost penniless after her father’s passing. Her third cousin had inherited her father’s title and never showed interest in her well-being. Undoubtedly, the new Earl Webster-Harnly had thought that Grace’s sister and brother-by-marriage would provide for her.
How wrong he would be.
After Theodore left the room, Grace pulled a piece of parchment from her desk and dipped her quill into the inkwell. She would take matters into her own hands and contact her former clients, who had daughters and sons on the marriage mart. It wouldn’t hurt to drop a brief note stating she just happened to have found an opening in her schedule if they needed her assistance. If business wasn’t seeking her, she’d pursue her own opportunities.
“Ma’am,” Theodore drawled as he entered the room. He stood straight as an arrow with his nose tilted slightly toward the ceiling in his most regal English butler pose.
She bit her lip to keep from laughing at his charming antics when they had visitors. She blinked slowly and then said a silent prayer. Please let it be a client who needed her services.
“The Duke of Pelham is here.” Theo straightened his waistcoat, winked, and stepped away from the door.
When Dane Ardeerton, the Duke of Pelham, swept through her doorway, she sat still though her heart galloped like a favored racehorse at the Royal Ascot. What the devil was he doing there? He’d asked her to spend time with him after his sister married earlier today, and she’d answered him with a polite but firm no. Were all dukes immune to the words not interested, or was this particular one unable to take a hint?
Knowing him, he probably just chose to ignore it.
Slowly, she stood. There was no nod, smile, or “What a pleasure, Your Grace” greeting for the man who stood before her.
“That will be all,” she said to Theodore.
“A moment, if you please,” Pelham addressed her butler, who immediately stopped. “How long has it been since we’ve seen each other, Mr. Tinniswood? At least nine or ten years, by my recollection. How’s your family?”
Theodore broke out into a wide grin. “Oh, Your Grace, I can’t believe you remembered my name.”
Pelham tilted his head with a slight smile. “How could I forget the man who rescued me from Princess?”
She vowed not to be charmed by the duke’s antics as she tried and failed not to smile at the memories. As a child, she had a pug dog named Princess, who always bit Dane whenever she saw him. It wasn’t because Princess hated him. On the contrary, Princess adored him because he was the only one who would lie on the floor and engage in endless horseplay until they were both exhausted.
Dane always had allowed Princess to win.
Though she was loathed to admit it, it was somewhat of an endearing trait.
Her servant chuckled. “My family is well, sir. Thank you for asking.” He turned to Grace with a wide smile. “Shall I bring a tea tray, ma’am?”
“Thank you, but not for me,” Pelham answered before Grace could speak.
Grace smoothed her hands down her skirt to keep from fisting them. She would not dwell on the fact that Pelham had answered for her in her own household. She had more important problems at the moment.
“Very well. Ma’am, I’m off to the market.” Theodore took his leave.
When they were alone, Dane’s gaze swept across the room. An immediate heat marched up her cheeks. No doubt he saw the shabbiness of her furnishings, including the threadbare carpets and misshapen pillows. At least everything was clean, neat, and in its proper place.
This was ridiculous. He was simply a man, and she would not doubt herself.
“These are for you.” He smiled as he extended a slightly wilted bouquet. “They look slightly ragged, but I couldn’t resist the flower girl.”
The Duke of Pelham would certainly be kind to a little girl hoping to make a few coins selling flowers. She inhaled, and the scent of roses greeted her like a long-lost friend. “Thank you. They’re my favorite.”
“I remember.” As he said the words, he didn’t look at her. Instead, he glanced around the room again before his brilliant blue gaze met hers.
“Would you care to sit?” she motioned toward the matching sofas that framed the hearth. Since it was warm, a fireplace screen shaped like a floral fan concealed the grill. It was feminine and pleasing to the eye. Perhaps she’d focus on that instead of the handsome, irascible duke.
He waited for her to sit on a sofa, then claimed a seat opposite and stared at her as she stared at him, neither saying a word.
For the love of heaven, he was as handsome as ever. Perhaps even more so. Tall with broad shoulders that only emphasized his height, Dane made Adonis look like a mere mortal. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, with hair that appeared to have been spun from gold and sunshine. His keen eyes were clear blue, reminding her of the Mediterranean Sea. His bespoke morning coat and matching breeches fit him perfectly. She could stare at him all day and never tire of the sight.
It was as true today as it was when she was a foolish girl who believed she’d found the love of her life. Even after all those years, she couldn’t look away if she wanted. The familiar magic still sparked between them and had her leaning in his direction as she waited with bated breath for him to speak. Every part of her practically hummed in anticipation of why he was there.
Which begged the question, would her body ever learn to ignore him?
The obvious answer of no reverberated through her. For heaven’s sake, he was the Duke of Pelham, the most handsome, captivating, charming, and infuriating man she had ever met.
“I’m lonely, Grace.”
His soft words enveloped her and, for a moment, stole her voice. How could someone so influential and well-regarded in society be lonely? Everyone begged him to attend their events, but he refused. He preferred spending time at the Jolly Rooster, his coaching inn and gambling hell, where everything had unraveled for them all those years past.
She fought the urge to comfort him and put distance between them by leaning as far away as possible. Yet, the forlorn look he wore tugged at her heartstrings.
She was well-acquainted with loneliness. Though she had many friends and acquaintances, no one except Theo waited for her to arrive home. He didn’t count since she paid him to stay with her.
Or at least she did when she had the funds.
“I can certainly understand,” she murmured. “Ardeerton House must feel empty. Since both of your sisters have married and are starting new lives with their husbands.”
“Then you understand why I’m here.” A rare, awkward, half-hearted grin pulled at his full lips. “It’s time for me to marry.”
Grace froze as she grappled with what he was saying. “Surely, you are not asking me.” A wayward frog singing for its mate sounded more harmonious than she did. She cleared her throat before she continued, “Are you?”
“I’ll wait for you to close your mouth before I answer,” Dane drawled, then threw back his head and laughed as if she’d said something hysterical. After the last chuckles faded, he took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. “For a moment, I thought you’d been struck by lightning. I’ve never seen you speechless. But to answer your question, no, darling, I’m not asking you to marry me. You only get one bite of the apple with me.”
What a pompous arse. “Well, darling, one bite is all I need, particularly when the apple is rotten to the core,” she snapped.
He laughed again, and she felt ridiculously pleased with herself for a moment.
“Dear, dear Grace, some things never change. I’ve always enjoyed your spirit when you forgot to be prim and proper. You remind me of pepper. A perfect amount of spice makes a dish extraordinary. Too much, and you get burned.” His good humor turned into a wide grin.
“You remind me of garlic. Too much, and no one can stand your company.” Though he smiled, his eyes grew distant. Immediately, she regretted the insult. It was cruel what she’d said. Over the years, she had developed a nasty habit of becoming a shrew with a sharp tongue. “Please forgive me.”
Pelham arched one ducal eyebrow. “There’s nothing to forgive. Such repartee is another language we uniquely share to express our deepest feelings for one another.”
She lowered her voice. “I’m certain you’re not here to spar with me verbally.”
“No,” he replied tersely, then momentarily turned away from her as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. He released a labored breath and directed his royal blue gaze back to her. “I’ll come straight to the point. I’m here because I want to hire you. Schedule a few events and select several suitable women for me to meet. Notify my secretary of my request and send him the details.” He stood up to leave.
She stood as well. “Dane, wait.”
He stopped immediately and stared at her, his gaze penetrating. It was almost as if he could see inside of her and had a front-row view of her unease. “Dane, is it?”
“I meant Pelham.” The dratted man could always put her on the defensive. She clasped her hands before her, needing to address their awkwardness or at least her awkwardness. “What about…our past?”
He grimaced slightly. “Consider it erased unless you’ve changed your mind.” A faint glimmer shone in his eyes.
For a moment, she thought it might be a desire to change their pasts and futures. Then she recognized it for what it was. Simply a silly musing best left unexplored.
There had been many a day when she’d dreamt about her life if she had married him. But that was water under the bridge.
She offered a tender smile as a peace offering. “It’s best we go on with our lives.”
He dipped his chin in agreement. “Very well. I want you to attend the events and introduce me to the women you think would make a suitable duchess. Also, send me an invoice for your services. I’ll inform my secretary to pay it immediately.”
Then, the dastardly man winked at her before strolling out of her home as if he owned the entire street.
The galling, not to mention vexing, thing was that he probably did own it.
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