The Rake's Wicked Proposal

‘Really?’ Sebastian looked noticeably cheered rather than nonplussed.

‘Undoubtedly,’ Lucian reassured him dryly, his mood lightening.

The teasing between the two brothers set the tone for the rest of the evening, with Sebastian even managing to make the subdued Duchess laugh once or twice with his outrageousness. Deliberately so, Grace suspected, in order to conceal the fact that Grace and Lucian, despite their earlier agreement to the contrary, barely addressed a word to each other.

Grace because she was still slightly annoyed with Lucian for not confiding in her. And Lucian because— Well, she had no idea what Lucian’s reasons were for his silence towards her. Which was part of the problem, of course. These last few days Grace had simply had no idea what Lucian was thinking from one moment to the next.

Instead she concentrated her attention on the interplay between the two brothers. How different was the relationship between Lucian and Sebastian than that of the three Carlyne brothers, Grace acknowledged sadly. She could not imagine the three of them ever spending such a pleasant evening together. George had been affable and charming, of course, and well liked by both his brothers. But the relationship between Darius and Francis seemed to consist of contempt on Darius’s part and jealousy and dislike on Francis’s.

Grace became very still. Had she been looking at this situation in quite the wrong way? Francis was jealous of Darius. He had also made no effort to hide his dislike of Darius since the Duke of Carlyne had died—to the point where Francis had expressed that dislike when he talked to Grace and Lucian of Darius’s treatment of the Duchess since her husband’s death.

Grace gave Lucian a briefly searching glance, knowing that, for all that the two of them disagreed constantly, Lucian was nevertheless a man of honour. A man of integrity. And, no matter how damning the evidence against Darius might appear, Lucian insisted that the other man was innocent of any and all accusations. Whilst at the same time doing very little to hide his contempt of Francis Wynter.

If Darius was innocent, then perhaps that meant—

No…!

What Grace was now thinking simply could not be!

Could it…?

‘Is the beef not to your liking, Grace?’ her aunt prompted with concern, obviously noting that Grace had ceased eating and was simply staring down at the food on her plate, her cheeks pale. ‘I am sure we can ask Cook to provide something else if it is not. A little chicken, perhaps?’

‘No, the—the beef is perfectly delicious, Aunt,’ Grace hastened to assure her, some colour returning to her cheeks. ‘I was merely— It is just— Is it my imagination, or has it become rather warm in here?’

Her aunt frowned. ‘Perhaps if we were to open the doors out into the garden…’

‘No.’ Lucian was looking frowningly at Grace as he rose abruptly to his feet. ‘With your permission, I believe I will take Grace into the garden for some air.’ He moved to pull her chair back for her at the Duchess’s nod of agreement to the suggestion, and Grace was grateful for the support of the arm he offered her as she allowed him to escort her outside.

Grace breathed in the warm summer air, her earlier discomfort quickly passing as the tightness eased about her chest and her head cleared of too many thoughts all clamouring to be heard at once.

Lucian was very aware of the way Grace had looked at him with such clarity a few minutes ago. As if—as if she had just found the last piece to a puzzle. Perhaps she had…? Lucian had noted Grace’s intellect on more than one occasion, so there was no reason now why he should be in the least surprised if she had used that intelligence to discover the truth of a situation that had been disturbing her for a few days.

He drew in a deep breath. ‘Grace—’

‘Could we walk as far as the coach-house, do you suppose?’ she prompted brightly.

Lucian was not quite sure of the wisdom of being alone with Grace once they reached the coach-house. ‘Perhaps we should just sit here on the terrace?’

She shook her head frowningly. ‘I would not like my aunt to overhear any of our conversation.’

‘Nevertheless…’

Grace raised teasing eyebrows. ‘Surely you are not apprehensive at the thought of being alone with me, My Lord?’