In truth Grace was not nervous. She was terrified. While she was beyond grateful to the servants for not tittle tattling on her, she lived in abject fear that someone else might enlighten her husband. The fact that her predicament was entirely her own fault did not help matters at all. Why oh why did she have to be so impulsive?
Nicholas did not come to her bedchamber and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or sorry. If his nightmares were troubling him, he gave no indication and for the moment she was content to allow Malcolm to take care of him.
The only time she ventured from the house was for lunch with her family at the vicarage. It was the only opportunity she had to speak with her siblings.
Before luncheon she managed to take her older sisters aside and explain what had happened, but only Tempy seemed fully cognizant of the tight rope her sister was balancing on. The others seemed to regard the last month as simply a lark and were more interested in the possibility of Grace attending balls and soirées and the number of new dresses her husband would buy her. Their bird-witted attitude simply emphasised how foolish she’d been.
During luncheon, her siblings argued over whether they'd be permitted to visit their sister in London and Agnes twittered on about Almack’s until Grace thought she would scream.
Eventually, in desperation, she turned to her unusually silent father and expressed a wish to speak with him privately. After a few seconds plainly trying to come up with an excuse, the Reverend sighed and agreed to a private audience in his study. At the table Agnes tittered knowingly behind her hand, clearly thinking there was some happy news on the way…
One look at his daughter’s face as they entered the study had the Reverend hurriedly reaching for the brandy decanter.
“What am I going to do father?” she wailed. “I thought if he banished me, I could have my own establishment.”
The Reverend spat out the mouthful of brandy and stared at her in horrified realisation. “You made a deuced cake of yourself deliberately? Of all the damned hare-brained ideas. And to think, I actually planned to kidnap you to save you from yourself.”
It was Grace’s turn to stare at her father. This time in horrified disbelief.
“Still,” the Reverend continued, regaining his cheerful optimism, “no harm done. You’ve clearly regained your wits, and we all do foolish things when we’re young.” He completely ignored the fact that his last foolish endeavour had been merely a few days before.
Her father’s confession actually did Grace a service. It made her realise that her only recourse was to rely on herself. Her main concern as she took her leave from her family was whether she had inherited her father’s tendency to be too ripe and ready by half. She feared her concern was well grounded given her tendency to launch herself without thinking into bacon-brained schemes with little or no forethought.
Chapter Eleven
Grace was still mulling over whether she had indeed inherited her father’s penchant for becoming embroiled in bird-witted capers as their carriage passed from Devonshire and on up into Wiltshire.
Ordinarily she would have been consumed with excitement, especially as she’d never been further than the Port of Dartmouth up to now, but instead, as seemed so often of late, she was too busy trying to work out how to extract herself from hobbles of her own making.
She became aware that Nicholas was speaking to her.
“Are you feeling well?”
She blinked. “Of course. I’m fine.”
He narrowed his gaze. “I don’t believe you.”
Her mouth pulled into a frown. “Why not?”
Nicholas nodded to the book in her lap. “You’ve yet to open your book.”
Grace looked down, her fingers tracing the leather cover and Nicholas suddenly felt the urge to take the place of the book in her lap. “I’ve been distracted by the countryside. I’ve never been further than Dartmouth before.”
While he believed her words, he still had this nagging feeling that something was bothering her. She was extremely pale. In fact, if he hadn’t known better, he would question whether she was with child. But as they’d yet to consummate their marriage, it stood to reason her anxiety must pertain to something else.
He sighed and continued, “As you’re aware Grace I have been out of the country for a good few years and consequently my knowledge of English Society and its foibles is not perhaps what it might be.” His words were terse and clipped and Grace could feel his distaste.
“Ordinarily I would not trouble myself. I have no interest in learning the latest on-dits and have found most members of the ton to be vain and self-centred." Grace watched silently as Nicholas dragged his hand over his face.
“That said, whatever my private sentiments, you have married into of one of England’s highest-ranking families, and it is therefore necessary for you to be presented as my Duchess and take your place in society.
“We have been invited to a charity ball being thrown on behalf of naval heroes.” His face twisted in a mirthless smile and Grace felt her heart contract. “Apparently it is to be the culmination of the London Season. I have received a particular entreaty that we attend from a good friend of mine and my reluctant acquiescence is a favour to him and him only.”
He paused, clearly waiting to see if his wife wished to
