Page 78 of The Untamed Duke
“He loves you. I’d bet my life on it. And you love him. Oh, Grace. What a tangle love can create. Believe me, I know the troubles it can cause very well. I nearly lost Sebastian because I could not admit I loved him more than my own life. Darling, do not repeat my mistakes.”
“He will never marry me, you know,” Grace said bitterly. “He uses women and tosses them aside. Although I admit an attraction between us, his reputation...and other factors...leave no hope for marriage.”
“Yes, he is wicked. And hard. And God knows, he has hurt people in the past, including my own husband. But he can change. If Sebastian could change, I know Richeforte can. Some manner of connection exists between the two of you. He admitted as much when he first awoke after the fire. I did not tell you before, you were so distraught over everything, but I found your slippers in his room and confronted him. No one other than myself knows you were with him that night. But my darling, I hold out hope you have not completely ruined yourself for him.” Ivy’s face was a study of trepidation and sympathy. “You haven’t, have you?”
My slippers. I never even thought twice about them. I did leave them behind. God, I’m so foolish. So very foolish.
“Our arrangement is not complete, so at the moment I remain somewhat unruined.”
Ivy sighed in relief. “What is your arrangement? And what does that mean? Somewhat unruined?”
Grace hesitated, unwilling to divulge everything between her and Nicholas. “A business one. And confidential on both sides, I’m afraid.”
“I can think of only one arrangement that would eventually leave you in a state of ruin,” Ivy murmured sadly.
Grace did not answer, sipping her tea instead. It tasted like dry paper in her equally dry mouth. Flavorless.
Ivy frowned. “Grace. I cannot pretend knowledge of what makes a man’s heart work. Or, for that matter, how love might manifest itself. I can only advise doing what you think best, in your heart of hearts. If you love Richeforte, and I believe you do, and he loves you, as I believe he does, then you must do something. Grab it with both hands, my dear. If this business between Sebastian and Nicholas is the reason for your hesitation, it will work itself out. I won’t allow Sebastian to hate someone who will marry his own dear cousin.” She winked at Grace. “It would make for difficult and awkward family gatherings, don’t you think?”
Grace choked on a horrified laugh, wishing she could relate the details of Nicholas’s supposed betrayal. But that was not for her to reveal. Nicholas must do that. She only hoped he would accept her help when he did.
“I will consider your advice, Ivy. And hopefully make the right choice.”
* * *
Five days later,Tristan arrived at Bellmar Abbey. He came by horseback, complaining his coach traveled at a snail’s pace. A servant sat perched atop another horse packed with bags containing the viscount’s clothing and other necessary items.
Leaping from his gelding, Tristan swept Grace into his arms, hugging her tight.
“I’m so thankful you are well. I was beside myself with worry upon hearing of the fire and came as quickly as I could. Mother, Father, and Celia are currently at the Countess of Shelton’s summer fete. I convinced them I could travel faster without them or they would have come as well. Are you sure you are all right? You are so pale. And you’ve lost weight.”
For a moment, Grace closed her eyes, allowing the viscount’s embrace. For a moment, a brief, awful moment, she pretended it was Nicholas holding her as if she were the most precious thing on Earth.
“I’m fine. Really.” Subtly pulling away, she smoothed her gown and gave Tristan a weak smile. “Your mother will be glad for my paleness. She always says I’ve too much sun and should soak my face in lemon juice and buttermilk. I’ve not been outdoors nor ridden since before…”
The words broke off in a strangled cough of despair. She’d barely roused herself from bed that morning, much less mustered the energy required for venturing outside. And at no point in the past week had she stepped foot anywhere near the stables.
“When the earl related the news, I immediately rode for Cornwall. Lady Ravenswood,” Tristan turned with a smile for Ivy. “I’ve a letter from your husband. He asked that I escort the two of you to Beaumont. Business detains him in London. As I was coming here regardless, I gladly offered my service.” He retrieved a small, folded envelope from his coat pocket and handed it over.
“I’m staying here until the men repairing the stables arrive. Only then will I leave for Beaumont,” Grace asserted. She did not miss the quiet glance Tristan and Ivy shared over her head. It made her fists clench with frustration.
Taking Grace by the hands, Tristan tugged her a few steps away, gazing at her longingly. “Darling, I’m so sorry for the loss you’ve suffered. Ravenswood said you were not injured, but I know losing Llyr is a devastating blow.”
Grace replied without emotion. “I suppose Sebastian told you Richeforte risked his life to save my horse?”
Tristan’s jaw tightened at the mention of Nicholas. “Yes. I heard he took a nasty bump on the head and suffered from fever for a few days.”
“He was very heroic. And Sebastian, in turn. He saved the duke’s life.”
Tristan’s beautifully dark brown eyes sparked with surprise. “Ravenswood failed in mentioning that. Only that Nicholas was pulled from the burning stables. With the animosity between them, I would hardly expect Ravenswood would do something so surprising as the rescue of a man he hates.”
Grace stiffened. “You sound almost sorry he did.” The words popped out of her mouth.
Tilting his head, the viscount stared at Grace. “Why do you say that? I’m one of Richeforte’s only friends. I would not wish him harm. Although, I do wonder why he was here in the first place.”
“To purchase a few of my yearlings, if you must know.”
“How odd of him. He snapped up half a dozen Scottish yearlings at Newmarket only a month ago.” Tristan’s hand moved up, intending on grasping Grace’s elbow, but she sidled out of reach. “Why would he be in the market for more?”
