‘I am to blame,’ she said again softly.
Lucian stood up impatiently. ‘You have already said that, Grace. Several times. I have no idea why you should think it so—’
‘Can you not see?’ She glared her irritation at him. ‘If I had not argued with Francis this morning—If our raised voices had not disturbed my uncle—’
‘Let me see if I understand you correctly, Grace.’ Lucian eyed her impatiently. ‘You believe that it was your argument with Francis that took place—what? Twelve or fourteen hours ago?—which caused the Duke to collapse this evening?’
She shot him a reproving frown. ‘Of course that is what I mean.’
‘I admire your arrogance in thinking it might be so, Grace, but—’
‘It is not arrogance!’ She glared. ‘What other reason could there possibly be for my uncle to collapse so suddenly?’ Grace began to pace the room restlessly.
Lucian could think of several reasons off the top of his head. The London Season could be extremely tiresome as well as tiring for a man who lived his life mainly in the country—although Lucian decided against mentioning that to Grace, knowing it would only bring on another bout of guilt when she was the reason the Carlynes had come to London for the Season! The Duke might possibly have financial worries that none of them knew of. Francis Wynter had to be the most trying of lingering house-guests. Darius had arrived earlier today too, and although he was by far easier to get along with, the Duke’s two younger brothers had little time for each other. Having the two of them staying together at Carlyne House would no doubt be cause for tension.
Grace’s little spat with Francis earlier this morning was unimportant by comparison with any of those things!
Lucian shook his head. ‘Your aunt and uncle may have had a marital disagreement—’
‘Ridiculous!’ Grace snapped her impatience with such a suggestion. ‘Aunt Margaret and Uncle George have the most harmonious of marriages!’
So did Lucian’s brother Hawk and his Duchess, but even they had been known to have their disagreements on occasion! ‘Some unpleasantness between Darius and Francis, then,’ he dismissed. ‘There are any number of things that could have caused the Duke’s collapse, other than your own disagreement with Francis this morning. Or none of them,’ Lucian added gently. ‘Perhaps it is just that the Duke’s physician in Worcestershire was right all along, and he does have something wrong with his heart…?’
Grace looked a little less certain in her conviction that she was to blame for her uncle’s collapse. ‘The physician this evening did say, after examining my uncle, that he believed it had been a seizure of the heart.’
‘There you are, then.’ Lucian shrugged.
‘But even if that is true, surely there must have been a reason for his collapse?’
‘Grace, I really think you are taking far too much upon yourself by imagining that anything you or Francis did or said could have resulted in such a collapse.’ Lucian was fast losing patience with her stubborn belief that she was to blame for what had happened.
She looked less certain. ‘You do…?’
‘I do.’
Now that Grace had calmed down somewhat she was fast coming to a realisation of just how impetuously she had behaved in coming to Lucian’s home this evening. Not only was it completely improper of her to have done so, but—as she once again took in Lucian’s state of undress—she could not help but realise how rakishly handsome he looked in the billowy white shirt and thigh-hugging breeches.
How much she loved him…
Grace was left in no doubt that Lucian was also aware of the intimacy of their situation, and their gazes met, the very air between them seeming to still.
Her breasts quickly rose and fell. She found it impossible to look away from the intensity of Lucian’s dark gaze, her own eyes widening in alarm as he took a step towards her.
Lucian stood only inches away from her now, very tall and handsome, so close that Grace could feel the heat emanating from his body, and admire the way his damp shirt clung to the muscled width of his powerful chest.