The Rake's Wicked Proposal

‘Obviously you do not yet have that excuse, my dear,’ he drawled mockingly.

‘Oh, I am sure that Grace did not at all mean the remark in a derogatory way, Lord Lucian.’ The Duchess rushed to defend her. ‘Indeed, maturity in one’s husband is much to be admired. Carlyne is ten years my senior, and we have always dealt very well together,’ she added fondly.

Lucian was well aware of the fact that the Duke and Duchess’s alliance had been a successful one. But then, it had been a lovematch. Unlike his own and Grace Hetherington’s. Although theirs promised to be a fiery one!

‘If you will excuse me, ladies…?’ Lucian stood up in one fluid movement. ‘I believe it is time that I made my departure. You will allow Grace to walk outside with me for a few moments, Your Grace?’

‘Of course.’ The Duchess smiled up at him graciously. ‘I am sure that you will wish to say your farewells in private.’

Lucian felt sure, after a brief glance at Grace Hetherington’s flushed face, that farewell was the least of the things she wanted to say to him in private!

He took the Duchess’s proffered hand and raised it to his lips. ‘May I call on you at Berkeley Square when I return to town in a week’s time?’

‘Of course.’ The older woman laughed happily. ‘I am sure that Grace will be eagerly awaiting your arrival.’

Lucian bit back a smile as, in complete contradiction of her aunt’s claim, he saw the brief look of disdain that Grace shot in his direction.

‘My dear…?’ He held out his arm to her pointedly.

Grace looked at that arm for several seconds as she debated whether or not she had the courage to refuse to accompany him outside. A futile gesture when being alone with Lord Lucian St Claire was exactly what she desired at this moment.

‘My Lord.’ She rose gracefully to her feet to rest her fingers very lightly on the sleeve of his jacket. ‘I will not be long, Aunt.’

‘There is no rush, Grace.’ The Duchess smiled encouragingly. ‘After all, you are betrothed, and you will not see each other for a week or more.’

The existence of a betrothal between them seemed to allow all sorts of liberties that would not otherwise be contemplated, Grace acknowledged frowningly as she accompanied Lucian St Claire from the inn. Apart from the obvious one, of course. But then, her aunt and uncle already seemed to believe her guilty of that!

‘I am sorry to say you do not look any happier this morning than you did last night, Grace.’

‘Did you expect me to?’ Grace removed her hand from Lucian St Claire’s sleeve before stepping away from him and linking her hands together behind her back. The bright sunshine was still doing nothing to lighten her mood.

He raised mocking brows over darkly brooding eyes. ‘It is customary to be so when you are newly betrothed, surely?’

‘Not when the betrothal is against one’s wishes!’

‘Grace—’

‘My Lord?’

Lucian gave a weary sigh. ‘Did I not tell you last night how it would be?’

‘You did.’ Her mouth was tight. ‘I bow to your superior knowledge.’

‘Even while you deplore it?’

‘Yes!’

Lord Lucian’s mouth was tight. ‘Being angry and re sentful towards me will not change what is now fact.’

Her eyes glittered silver. ‘And are you not angry and resentful also?’

He shrugged wide shoulders. ‘I am—resigned.’

‘How commendable!’

‘You would make yourself less unhappy if you were to adopt the same stance.’

‘Unhappy?’ Grace moved away from him agitatedly. ‘I am not unhappy, My Lord. Neither am I resigned. What I am is determined on finding some way of bringing to an end this—this sham of a betrothal.’

Lucian eyed her pityingly. ‘In circumstances such as these that might not be as easy to do as you might think.’

‘Once it becomes apparent that I am not with child—’

‘There is still the matter of your lost innocence.’

‘We both know it is not lost.’

‘And would you be willing to undergo a medical ex amination in order to prove that?’