The Rake's Wicked Proposal

‘I would not have tolerated such as you in my regiment,’ Lucian assured him impatiently.

‘You see.’ Sebastian gave a dramatic sigh. ‘Such is the fate of a younger brother.’

Grace was greatly enjoying this exchange between the two brothers, and already liked Lord Sebastian tremendously. It was impossible not to like his teasing good humour. Grace felt sure it had to be good for the more reserved and troubled man that she knew Lucian to be.

Did his family know of his inner turmoil? Of the disturbing memories that haunted his dreams? Did she sense a certain subtlety of purpose behind Sebastian St Claire’s teasing? As if any response from his taciturn older brother was better than no response at all…? She turned to give the younger man a considering look, receiving a barely perceptible wink in return.

Lucian saw that exchange with a darkening of his brow. ‘Sebastian, do you not have somewhere else you need to be?’

‘Would you care to present us, St Claire?’

Lucian turned scowlingly to find the two young bucks from his club standing beside him. The blond, more outspoken one was acting as spokesman for the pair, and he looked at Lucian expectantly. The admiration in the eyes of the dark-haired one was obviously genuine as he goggled at Grace. A fact that did not please Lucian in the least. He had thought the evening bad enough with Sebastian’s interruption, but it had just deteriorated to a greater degree!

But, having ensured that these two young sprigs would present themselves here tonight, Lucian really had left himself with no choice but to make the introductions. Which he did so—stiffly. ‘Gentlemen—my betrothed, Miss Grace Hetherington.’

‘Sir Rupert Enderby.’ The blond-haired man bowed formally over her hand.

‘Lord Gideon Grayson.’ The dark-haired one also bowed. ‘Might I request the honour of this next dance, Miss Hetherington?’ he prompted politely, as a brief pause could be heard in the music before the next dance began.

So it was that seconds later Lucian found himself standing with Sebastian and Sir Rupert Enderby at the side of the ballroom, doing his best to conceal the grinding of his teeth as he watched Grace gliding elegantly around the room in the arms of the obviously enchanted Lord Gideon Grayson.

Chapter Eight

‘You seem preoccupied this morning, My Lord?’ Grace looked at him from beneath lowered lashes as they rode their horses side by side along the busy bridle-path in the park, with the young groom her aunt had sent along for propriety’s sake riding some distance behind them. A dozen or so other riders were there with their mounts, despite the earliness of the hour, and all of them, it seemed, were acquainted with Lucian—although his replies to their greetings had so far been taciturn to say the least.

Her Aunt Margaret, having been assured the previous evening by Lord Sebastian St Claire—not quite truthfully!—that Grace and Lucian had been taking refreshment and talking with him for the past half an hour, had readily agreed to Lucian’s request that he take Grace out riding with him this morning, so long as a groom accompanied them.

Grace was wearing one of her new riding habits, in a deep grey velvet, and a matching bonnet over her wayward curls that, even if she did say so herself, looked very well with the sleek black mare her uncle’s groom had provided for her to ride.

Lord Lucian looked very handsome, of course—Grace seriously doubted that he could ever look anything else! A fine black hat was upon his head, his tailored jacket was of severe black, his linen snowy white, and his cream riding breeches and highly polished Hessians emphasised the muscled hardness of his calves. As was to be expected from a man who had spent years as a commissioned officer, he rode very well, easily maintaining control of his frisky black stallion. In fact, the only thing that marred Lucian’s appearance this morning was the equally black scowl upon his brow…

‘I have received a note from Arabella this morning, requesting that I accompany her to your aunt’s house for tea this afternoon.’

Grace’s brows rose. ‘No doubt in response to the fact that my aunt and I called upon her and Lady Hammond two days ago.’