Their father would order the stable hand to take them in the cart pulled by the only horse they owned. Lucifer had been quite young then. Smiling she remembered the Reverend’s explanation for the horse’s name. “A more beautiful beast has never likely walked this earth, nor one so deuced evil tempered. Twas your mother who named him after he bit her for the third time while still at his dam’s teat.”
Grace shook her head. Was it any wonder they’d all grown up so unruly? She couldn’t recall a chaperone ever accompanying them on any of their outings. Truly she’d never really had the makings of a duchess, whatever her father had hoped.
Dressing quickly in the pre-dawn chill, she went downstairs to stoke up the fire. A large stack of dry kindling had been left in the woodshed, enough to last her throughout the winter if she was careful. But then she supposed she could always ask for more if she needed it. Whatever Nicholas thought of her, she did not believe he would see her freeze to death.
Indeed, the only thing she was lacking was reading material. She was still in possession of the two books she’d borrowed from Blackmore’s library before the ill-fated visit to London, which she fully intended to return - once she’d read them, but she hadn’t felt like reading up until now. Mayhap today was a good day to go back to her favourite pastime, providing she could concentrate for long enough.
Determinedly Grace made herself a cup of hot chocolate and snuggled up in the large armchair closest to the now roaring fire. Two hours later she was still on page six. Sighing, she finally put the book down. Reading matter was clearly not the only thing she was missing. Her mind simply could not focus on the pages in front of her.
All of a sudden, she heard barking. It sounded like Freddy. Hurriedly she went to the window. To her amazement, she spied her father’s small curricle pulled by non-other than Lucifer himself. Freddy was dancing around the horse who was doing his best to kick the irritating dog but hampered by the traces.
Grace never imagined a day would come when she’d feel such overwhelming delight at the sight of her exasperating father. Swiftly throwing open the door, she was immediately bowled over by Freddy who was equally delighted to see her.
“Down boy, DOWN FREDDY,” the Reverend puffed climbing with difficulty down from the curricle. As usual Freddy paid absolutely no attention to his master and continued to dance joyfully around Grace.
“What are you doing here father?” Grace asked when the dog finally ran off to chase an interesting scent.
“I wished to see how you were fairing,” he responded, leaning forward to receive Grace’s dutiful kiss. “and non-too soon it seems,” he continued observing her tired pinched face. “You look as though a breath of wind would bowl you over,” he muttered moving past her to enter the cottage. “Have you been eating girl?”
“I am quite well father, thank you,” Grace replied stiffly, following him into the kitchen, “And yes, I am very well provisioned as you can see.”
The Reverend turned back to look at her and she was astonished to see the depth of concern in his eyes. She had never considered that her father held her in any regard. Indeed, he’d always been merely someone to avoid throughout her childhood.
“May I offer you some tea father?” she offered hesitantly, not knowing how to deal with this suddenly thoughtful parent. Although she suspected that at least some of his concern was due to the fact that his actions may well have contributed to her disgrace, she nevertheless felt an unaccustomed warmth inside. “Please make yourself comfortable in front of the fire.”
Half an hour later their stilted conversation finally ran out. The only noise was the crackling of the fire in the hearth and Freddy’s loud snoring as he lay as close as he could in front of it. They had covered every subject possible apart from Grace's current fall from that state, and now silence reigned.
“Well, there’s no sense in forever avoiding mention of the Devil’s own scrape you’ve found yourself in.” Grace jumped slightly at the Reverend’s sudden loud announcement, but before she had the wit to respond, her father continued in the booming voice he usually reserved for berating his parishioners.
“There’s no escaping the fact you’ve been shockingly loose in the haft my girl and unsurprisingly made a complete cake of yourself.”
Grace opened her mouth but had no idea what to say. Her father’s words may have been blunt, but they were nonetheless true. Still, the fact that he’d conveniently omitted to include his part in the whole affair did not surprise her in the least. His next words however, completely dumbfounded her.
“While it has to be said, you’re in the suds Grace and no mistake, nonetheless it remains my responsibility as your father to put matters to right.
“You may have tied your garter in public young lady, but you may rest assured I will do everything I can to ensure you are not left languishing in this shoe box until you draw your last breath.”
Grace simply stared nonplussed at her father until he finally sighed irritably and continued in a much milder tone, “Were you truly so cork-brained as to wish to be rid of your husband or were you just kicking up a lark? In other words, do you want to be leg shackled to this Duke of yours or not?”
∞∞∞
Nicholas Sinclair felt as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. To be precise, since the day he found out about his wife’s duplicity.
He’d never held any real love for Blackmore since he’d left the Estate at fifteen, but he’d succeeded in convincing himself that he might transform the mausoleum into a home filled with
