Grace nodded. ‘We stayed with him at his estate in Malvern before coming here, and I believe there was some talk then of his coming up to town for a few days. Something to do with his late wife’s estate. You are aware that Lord Darius was married for a short time and recently widowed…?’
‘Oh, yes, everyone is aware that Lord Darius married a woman of great fortune.’ Arabella assured her ruefully. ‘There has been much talk since that his wife’s death was not an accident.’
‘I did not know…’ Grace was taken aback at the disclosure. Especially in light of the views she had expressed at the inn just over a week ago, when she had made her opinion more than plain concerning men who only married for fortune. She would not have voiced such an opinion—not even to annoy Lucian St Claire—if she had known that Darius Wynter was considered by the ton to be such a man… ‘Still, he is very handsome,’ she added ruefully.
‘Very.’ Arabella acknowledged abruptly as she stood up. ‘Such beautiful golden hair, eyes of unfathomable blue, and with the face of an angel. Or a devil.’ She gave a hard laugh. ‘A very wealthy devil now, if gossip is to be believed.’
‘But I thought you had just assured me that it is not…?’ Grace teased.
‘I do not believe that it is in Lucian’s case,’ his sister insisted firmly. ‘However, Lord Darius is another matter entirely. He barely knew his heiress before their wedding—and then for her to die only a month later…!’ Arabella shook her head. ‘It was all very convenient. Not for her, of course.’ She blushed uncomfortably.
‘Arabella, you are about to be indiscreet!’
Grace had stiffened at the first sound of Lucian St Claire’s voice, and her face was very pale as she slowly turned to see him standing in the doorway of her bedchamber. One look at his harshly disapproving face as he looked at his sister told Grace that he had overheard some of the conversation between the two women, at least. She could only hope that did not include any of the remarks made about him!
Although Grace could not help but recall that this was the second time Lucian had entered her bedchamber uninvited…
Lucian, having taken in the elegant beauty of Grace’s appearance when he had first opened the door to her bedchamber—those ebony curls loose down the length of her spine, her waist and bosom clearly emphasised by the cut of her soft velvet robe—deliberately kept his steely gaze fixed firmly upon his sister. That did not mean he was not still completely aware of Grace’s state of déshabillé, or the way her robe clung so revealingly to her tempting curves…
‘I believe, Arabella, that you owe Grace an apology.’ He spoke coldly to his sister. ‘Lord Darius is her uncle-by-marriage, and you have just insulted him,’ he pointed out.
Arabella’s face stiffened in challenge. ‘By telling the truth?’ His sister met his gaze defiantly.
Lucian’s mouth tightened. ‘By repeating unfounded gossip.’
‘I believe you are mistaken, Lucian.’ Grace was the one to answer him softly, but equally challengingly.
Lucian looked at her with hard dark eyes. ‘You believe Lord Darius to be guilty of the crime my sister accuses him of…?’
‘No, of course I do not!’ Her cheeks coloured in her impatience. ‘I am referring to the fact that Lord Darius is only the brother of my uncle, and I do not believe Arabella was accusing Lord Darius of any misdeed, only relating to me what others think concerning his tragically brief marriage.’
Lucian gave an abrupt shake of his head. ‘It is still unfounded gossip.’
‘Oh, tosh!’ Arabella snorted dismissively. ‘Anyway, people who listen to other people’s conversations have no right to complain as to the content of that conversation!’
‘I believe it would be better if you were to return downstairs, Arabella.’ His sister really had become an outspoken little madam, Lucian decided frowningly. It was time—past time—that Hawk did something to curb that recklessness. Preferably by marrying her to a man who would not tolerate Arabella’s frequent acts of rebellion.