Page 63 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
What kind of life was that?
Gracie gazed up at him, eyes wide and worried. So unsettled and unsure and unsafe her life had been, and not just these last few months.
What had happened to her? Something very bad indeed, bad enough for Captain Kingsley to yank her out of her safe world and convey her here.
His heart opened at the thought. Nothing in life could be totally settled, yet she could be sure of him. She could. Her heart, if he could win it, would be safe, no matter where they traveled, and as for the rest of her—he would give his life to keep her safe, and the child, no matter where their journeys took them.
Father turned back, his face placid again. “I am gratified to hear it, and gratified that you have informed me before the event.”
Unlike his brothers. That part remained unsaid, but he saw the look that Bink, who had eloped to Scotland, and Bakeley, whose nuptials had been equally hurried, exchanged. Though in fairness, Father had pretended to die before Bink’s marriage, and had proclaimed Lady Sirena an unsuitable match for his heir.
Charley was finally doing something right. Bakeley had always been the paragon, and Bink was the war hero. He was the feckless younger son.
But Father knew ofhisservice, he reminded himself, even if it only involved chasing women, and even if it was Kincaid and Farnsworth who guided him. There wasn’t much Father didn’t know.
“My dear, I know your father,” he said. “He is a brave and stalwart man. What are your marriage plans?”
“We haven’t got that far.” He studied Gracie’s face. The blood had drained leaving her a picture of ivory porcelain, and her lips pressed tightly holding in all her doubt. “What would you prefer, Gracie?”
She cast her gaze down and her grip on his arm tightened.
He leaned close to her ear and breathed, “I beg you, do not break my heart.”
A distant shriek pierced the silence. Shaldon sent Bink a pleased glance. Though Father had abandoned them all to dash off in the service of England, he’d embraced his first grandchild with enthusiasm.
“That’s not Bink’s progeny,” Charley said. “That is the tiny despot under Gracie’s care, appropriately named Reina.”
Gracie struggled out of his embrace. “I should go to her. My lord, will you excuse me?”
And then she was gone. She didn’t want to speak of the wedding details. She didn’t want to marry at all.
Which meant, he would have to put his mind to the right way to convince her. Sensuality had brought a strong response—good, that. Gracie was no cold, thorny rose. In that regard, there were no thorns at all. It was her heart that he’d have to win.
He knew what to do. He’d done it a few times for Crown and country, bastard that he was. This girl’s heart, however was a tight bud with steel petals.
A sensual girl who guarded her heart. That sensuality had led her to be well and truly hurt by some bigger bastard than himself.
And…a sensual girl, who’d been hurt, with a small child of questionable parentage? She had denied Reina, too emphatically perhaps. There was an art to lying that required aplomb. Gracie would never have that.
“I should like a word, Charles,” Shaldon said, intruding on his thoughts. Bink and Bakeley ushered the two ladies out.
