The Rake's Wicked Proposal

With those dreams of possessing Grace fully still so clear in his mind, Lucian knew it would not be wise to spend so much time in Grace’s company until he had those wild images back under his control. But fate, it seemed, was conspiring against him…

The fact that Grace had seen dismay flicker briefly on Lucian’s austere features before he had a chance to mask the emotion was indicative of just how strongly opposed he was to Arabella’s suggestion; Lucian, more than any other man Grace had ever known, usually had the ability to hide his inner emotions behind a cynical façade.

Her smile was tight. ‘I am sure that will not be necessary—’

‘On the contrary, as your betrothed it is very necessary that I accompany you to Winton Hall.’ Lucian’s tone brooked no argument.

Grace shook her head. ‘I am sure that you would much rather remain in London enjoying the—the entertainments here than be forced to endure the boredom of Worcestershire.’ Her gaze was challenging as it met Lucian’s for the first time since his arrival.

Those dark eyes gleamed with mocking amusement. ‘Even under such tragic circumstances as these undoubtedly are, I am sure I could never be bored in your company, Grace.’

Her eyes glittered with answering anger. ‘Perhaps I find no such comfort in your company, My Lord!’

‘Nevertheless, I am afraid that for propriety’s sake you must endure it.’ Lucian looked bored by the conversation.

For propriety’s sake.

Once again Grace’s life was to be dictated by what Society expected, demanded, rather than what she or Lucian wanted for themselves!

Especially Lucian.

For her own part Grace could not imagine spending days, possibly weeks, without sight or conversation with Lucian. If only Lucian had not made it so obvious that he found the idea much less than appealing!

‘Come, Grace, we must not continue to embarrass Arabella with our lovers’ quarrel.’ The glitter in Lucian’s gaze warned Grace that he had ceased to be amused.

‘Oh, I am not in the least embarrassed,’ Arabella assured them brightly. ‘On the contrary, I find it most illuminating.’

‘Might I enquire in what way?’ Lucian rasped frowningly.

Arabella shrugged. ‘This last year I have had the chance to observe Hawk and Jane as they fell in love—and now you and Grace.’ Her eyes sparkled mischievously. ‘It is all so much more fun than I had imagined.’

Lucian raised derisive brows. ‘For whom?’

‘Oh, for the observer, naturally.’ Arabella chuckled. ‘It does not look at all an enjoyable experience for the two people involved!’

Grace could find no argument with that sentiment!

Not that Lucian was in love with her, of course. But she was in love with him. Deeply. Irrevocably. And apart from those occasions when Lucian took her in his arms, when she seemed to lose all sense of propriety let alone denial, Grace had not found it to be in the least an enjoyable experience!

Perhaps if Lucian could have loved her in return it would have been different. As it was, Grace could only take what measures she could to hide her feelings for him. Not something she was having too much success at when she melted into his arms every time they were alone together!

Arabella stood up, a smile playing about her lips. ‘I believe it may be time for me to take another turn about the rose garden…’

‘No—’

‘Do not—’

Grace and Lucian both broke off their disapproval of this suggestion to frown at each other—Grace warily, Lucian impatiently.

‘There is no need for you to go anywhere, Arabella,’ Lucian finally rasped irritably. ‘I am sure that whatever argument Grace believes she has with me this morning can wait until after I have spoken to Darius concerning our travel arrangements,’ he added derisively.

‘But not, I presume, in my presence?’ Arabella murmured disappointedly.

‘You presume correctly.’ Lucian nodded curtly. ‘If you will excuse me, ladies?’ He gave a terse bow before striding from the room.

‘Interesting,’ Arabella murmured curiously, before turning to give Grace an approving smile. ‘I do believe you have my brave and fearless brother running from the enemy. Oh, the enemy is not you, Grace,’ she assured her, as she saw Grace’s dismayed expression. ‘You are merely the cause of the battle…’