His Christmas Countess

‘No of course about it. Tess says we men have to be hit over the head with it before we realise it isn’t lust or liking. When did you get hit with the brick?’

‘An hour ago,’ Grant admitted. ‘At the top of the staircase, two couples from the head of the receiving line.’

Alex’s hoot of laughter had heads turning, including Kate’s. She raised her hand in a little wave, then turned back to her new acquaintances. ‘No wonder you are looking vaguely concussed. Love does that. I assume Kate is aware of your feelings?’

‘What? Don’t be an idiot. Of course I’m not—’ Grant managed to get his snarl down to a whisper. ‘She makes me happy, that’s all. I realised just now that I hadn’t felt like this...for ever. And it is due to her. But that’s contentment and liking and lus—er, compatibility in bed. It is not love. Ours is a marriage of convenience, you know that. And stop mopping your eyes, it isn’t that funny.’

‘No?’

‘No, it is not.’

Alex rolled his eyes and returned his handkerchief to its pocket in the tails of his coat. ‘There have been times when I’ve been deluded enough to think you quite intelligent, Rivers. I will leave you to stew and go and see who Tess is making eyes at and rescue them.’

‘Don’t say anything.’

‘About what? The fact that you are happy? Or the fact that you’re an idiot?’ Alex strolled off, leaving Grant to practice deep breathing in the middle of the crowded floor in the intervals between greeting acquaintances, bowing to ladies and attempting to get his emotions and his brain into some kind of alignment.

He was an adult male with considerable experience of life and women. He had faced his man in a duel, he had fought at Waterloo and somehow got out of that intact, he had dealt with hysterical mistresses throwing the porcelain from under the bed before now. He wasn’t a romantic youth desperate to transform simple liking, affection and desire into some hearts-and-flowers nonsense that could only end in disillusion and anticlimax. He was happy. His marriage made him happy. That was a wonderful realisation and now he could just get on with his life.

Chapter Nineteen

Kate was beginning to relax. In fact, she thought with a small start of surprise, she was actually beginning to enjoy herself. No one had pointed a finger at her, crying Fallen woman! or Blackmailer’s accomplice! as they did in her worst dreams. She could see no one who looked even faintly familiar, except for Alex and Tess, and her new acquaintances were all pleasant and even positively friendly.

Grant had seemed a little strange for a moment while they had been waiting on the stairs, but perhaps he had been nervous for her, which was understandable. She had no idea how her shaky legs had got her up those stairs, but now she was happily answering questions about which days she was at home to visitors and promising to take Anna to call on Mrs Whiting, who had a baby girl almost the same age.

She sensed Grant with a prickling awareness that had her glancing back over her shoulder with a smile, even before he arrived at her side. Was he proud of her? She hoped so, because she thought she was doing very well indeed.

‘My dear.’ He rested his right hand at the small of her back, a possessive gesture that made her shiver pleasurably. ‘I am afraid I must tear you away. If you will excuse us?’ He nodded and smiled and was perfectly polite as he detached her from the group and began to walk her back towards the entrance.

‘Grant, is something wrong? You haven’t had a message about one of the children, have you?’

‘No, nothing is wrong. I need to talk with you, that’s all.’

So I must be doing something wrong... No, that can’t be it. I know I have not put a finger out of line. Was he unwell? She looked up at his face as he took her arm as they descended the stairs, then sent a footman for their things. He looked tense, keyed up. It must be one of his wretched migraines, although it had been weeks since he had suffered one. Perhaps anxiety about her had triggered it.

Kate stayed silent and did not fuss, even when they were seated in their carriage. She was finally rewarded for her patience when Grant threw his hat on to the seat opposite, ran both hands through his hair and said, ‘I am sorry to have dragged you away. You seemed to be enjoying yourself.’

‘I was, very much. I have made some new acquaintances and that will make the next engagement even better. But it is no matter, there will be many other opportunities to talk with them.’