Jack rather doubted that. He remained suspicious of the dowager's motives as pertained to Grace; she seemed to thrust Grace in his direction at every possible occasion, like some piece of ripened fruit, dangled before his nose to entice him to stay put. He found it all rather appalling, but wasn't about to deny himself the pleasure of Grace's company just to spite the old bat.
"Bah," he said. "All the best companions go riding with the houseguests. "
"Oh. " So dubious. "Really. "
"Well, they do in my imagination, at least. "
Grace shook her head, not even trying not to smile. "Mr. Audley. . . "
But he was looking this way and that, his manner almost comically surreptitious. "I think we're alone,"
he whispered.
Grace leaned in, feeling very sly. "Which means. . . ?"
"You can call me Jack. "
She pretended to consider. "No, I don't think so. "
"I won't tell. "
"Mmmm. . . " Her nose scrunched, and then a matter-of-fact: "No. "
"You did it once. "
She pressed her lips together, suppressing not a smile, but a full-fledged laugh. "That was a mistake. "
"Indeed. "
Grace gasped and turned. It was Thomas.
"Where the devil did he come from?" Mr. Audley murmured.
From the small saloon, Grace thought miserably. The entrance was right behind them. Thomas frequently spent time there, reading or tending to his correspondence. He said he liked the afternoon light.
But it wasn't afternoon. And he smelled like brandy.
"A pleasant conversation," Thomas drawled. "One of many, I assume. "
"Were you eavesdropping?" Mr. Audley said mildly. "For shame. "
"Your grace," Grace began, "I - "
"It's Thomas," he cut in derisively, "or don't you recall? You've used my name far more than once. "
Grace felt her cheeks grow hot. She'd not been sure how much of the conversation Thomas had heard.
Apparently, most of it.
"Is that so?" Mr. Audley said. "In that case, I insist you call me Jack. " He turned to Thomas and shrugged. "It's only fair. "
Thomas made no verbal reply, although his thunderous expression spoke volumes. Mr. Audley turned back to her and said, "I shall call you Grace. "
"You will not," Thomas snapped.
Mr. Audley remained as calm as ever. "Does he always make these decisions for you?"
"This is my house," Thomas returned.
"Possibly not for long," Mr. Audley murmured.
Grace actually lurched forward, so sure was she that Thomas was going to lunge at him. But in the end Thomas only chuckled.
He chuckled, but it was an awful sound.
"Just so you know," he said, looking Mr. Audley in the eye, "she doesn't come with the house. "
Grace looked at him in shock.
"Just what do you mean by that?" Mr. Audley inquired, and his voice was so smooth, so purposefully polite, that it was impossible not to hear the edge of steel underneath.
"I think you know. "
"Thomas," Grace said, trying to intercede.
"Oh, we're back to Thomas, are we?"
"I think he fancies you, Miss Eversleigh," Mr. Audley said, his tone almost cheerful.
"Don't be ridiculous," Grace said immediately. Because he didn't. He couldn't. If Thomas had - Well, he'd had years to make it known, not that anything could have come of it.
Thomas crossed his arms and gave Mr. Audley a stare - the sort that sent most men scurrying for the corners.
Mr. Audley merely smiled. And then he said, "I wouldn't wish to keep you from yo
ur responsibilities. "
It was a dismissal, elegantly worded and undeniably rude. Grace could not believe it. No one spoke to Thomas that way.
But Thomas smiled back. "Ah, now they are my responsibilities?"
"While the house is still yours. "
"It's not just a house, Audley. "
"Do you think I don't know that?"
No one spoke. Mr. Audley's voice had been a hiss, low and urgent.
And scared.
"Excuse me," Thomas said abruptly, and while Grace watched in silence, he turned and walked back into the small saloon, shutting the door firmly behind him.
After what felt like an eternity, just staring at the white paint on the door, Grace turned back to Mr.
Audley. "You should not have provoked him. "
"Oh, I should not have been provoking?"
She let out a tense breath. "Surely you understand what a difficult position he is in. "
"As opposed to mine," he said, in quite the most awful voice she'd heard him use. "How I adore being kidnapped and held against my will. "
"No one has a gun to your head. "
"Is that what you think?" His tone was mocking, and his eyes said he could not believe her naivete.
"I don't think you even want it," Grace said. How was it this had not occurred to her before? How had she not seen it?
"Want what?" he practically snapped.
"The title. You don't, do you?"
"The title," he said icily, "doesn't want me. "
She could only stare in horror as he turned on his heel and strode off.