The Rake's Wicked Proposal
‘My brother Sebastian, and Sir Rupert and Lord Gideon also, are most disappointed that you are indisposed,’ Arabella remarked mischievously, as if she had read some of Grace’s thoughts.
But only some of them, Grace hoped; it would be too awful if Arabella were aware of Grace’s present aversion to being anywhere near Lucian—the brother she so obviously adored!
‘Lucian is pacing the drawing room like a caged tiger in his agitation at your absence,’ Arabella added speculatively.
Grace avoided that searching gaze. ‘I am sure he is doing no such thing.’
Arabella gave a tinkling laugh. ‘I assure you that he is.’ She sat down on the end of the chaise, forcing Grace to sweep her robe aside, and at the same time dislodging the book Grace had so recently hidden there. ‘Why, Grace!’ Arabella bent down to retrieve the book. ‘I do believe you were just avoiding your visitors, after all…’
‘Not at all.’ This young lady saw altogether too much for comfort, Grace decided frowningly as she took the book and impatiently disposed of it on the table beside her. ‘It is only that it becomes a little tedious, just lying here with nothing to occupy me.’
Arabella’s eyes glowed a teasing brown. ‘But the alternative was equally unpalatable, I am sure!’
‘I really have no idea what you mean, Lady Arabella—’
‘Arabella. We are to be sisters, after all.’ Arabella’s glowing smile faded slightly. ‘I believe I would be avoiding Lucian too, if I were the cause of his present scowling countenance.’
Ah, so Lucian was still scowling, was he? It was just as well, then, that Grace had decided to stay in her room for the rest of the day.
‘Although,’ Arabella added frowningly, ‘I must say it is a relief to see him showing any emotion.’
Grace gave her a searching glance. ‘What do you mean?’ Lucian had shown Grace nothing but emotion since the two of them had met, his initial formal politeness in front of her guardians having given way to irritation, desire and anger—most of all anger! Although Arabella’s comment did seem to confirm Grace’s suspicions that Lucian’s isolation from his family since he had left the army had been deliberate…
‘I—Ah, another visitor!’ Arabella announced excitedly, as a carriage could be heard drawing up outside the Carlynes’ townhouse. ‘You do not suppose that it is yet another one of your admirers, come to make my brother grind his teeth so jealously?’ she prompted laughingly, and the two women stared unashamedly out of the window as they waited for the passenger to alight from the carriage.
Grace gave an exasperated shake of her head. ‘I do not believe you understand my relationship with your brother at all. Our betrothal is—was brought about by events I really cannot discuss with you or anyone else—’
‘You are referring to the gossip, are you not?’ The laughter had faded from Arabella’s countenance. ‘I heard some murmurs of speculation yesterday evening at the Countess of Morefield’s,’ she explained sympathetically. ‘But as I have been quick to point out, Lucian has shown these last two years that he does not give that—’ she gave a snap of her fingers ‘—for the dictates of Society.’
‘Not for his own sake, perhaps,’ Grace acknowledged uncomfortably, her cheeks once again hot with embarrassment as she accepted that Lady Arabella had also heard the gossip about them. Who hadn’t? ‘But for the sake of his friendship with my aunt and uncle, and the damage that would be done to my own reputation if—well, if he did not make an offer for me.’
‘Hah! Lucian would—Why, I do believe that is Lord Darius Wynter…’ Arabella stared down into the street, where a gentleman had at last alighted from his carriage.
Grace also recognised Lord Darius, the middle Wynter brother, as he stepped down onto the pavement, the sunlight glinting on golden hair and his superciliously handsome face as he took his hat and cane from a waiting groom before glancing up at the house with eyes the same cobalt-blue as Grace’s robe.
Arabella moved guiltily back from the window. ‘I had not thought to see him in town this Season…’