"Well, this is a wonderful surprise. What are you doing here?" she asked the man, one of her hands still caught in his. "You made no mention of coming to Bath."
"I had business in the area and thought I'd stop by," the interloper replied.
"Well, I'm glad you are here," she said. "I had your last letter, but that was over two weeks ago at least."
///
Letter? She writes him letters!
Jack was still contemplating that bit of information when Grace and her companion turned around. The instant they did, recognition kicked in. It was the sandy-haired fellow from Hatchard's! The one who had escorted Grace from the bookshop that day.
Obviously becoming aware of his regard, she moved forward. "Jack … my lord, please forgive me for not introducing you right away. Lord John Byron, pray meet Mr. Terrence Cooke. Terrence is my publisher from London."
Her publisher? Well, at least that answers a few questions.
"My lord, a pleasure," Cooke said, offering his hand.
For a moment, Jack stared at the square palm, with its blunt nails and calloused fingers. "Cooke," he said. They exchanged handshakes, his own confidently firm, while the other man's was surprisingly weak and indecisive.
"So you print Grace's artwork?" Jack stated after drawing away. "She is extremely talented."
"She is indeed," Cooke agreed.
"You're lucky to have her. I hope you're paying her well."
Grace's eyes widened, while Cooke let out a laugh that sounded just a bit nervous. "Well enough, I trust."
"His lordship's sentiments are flattering, but as you know, I don't paint for the money," she said. "Lord Jack has one of my folios, Terrence."
"A fan of the natural world, are you?" Cooke commented.
"At times. However, in this instance, I am more a fan of Grace's."
Cooke met his gaze straight on in a kind of silent challenge. "As are we all."
Grace gave a brief laugh. "Well, before you two make my head swell to twice its normal size, I suggest we adjourn to the sofa and have some tea." She paused, turning to Jack. "Oh, except I forgot. You said you were needed elsewhere. Business, I believe."
At her reminder, Jack recalled that he did indeed have business to conduct. Or rather what constituted business for him, since this afternoon he was promised to play cards at a gentlemen's club, where there were always men eager to be parted from their cash.
Considering Jack's present situation and the debt he owed Grace's father, some might have advised him to refrain from further gaming. However, his ill luck with Danvers had been a fluke. He'd walked away a winner on the pair of occasions when he'd played since. He knew he would do so again, so long as he paid attention to the cards, abided the odds, and held the wagers in reasonable check.
He hesitated, reluctant to leave Grace and her visitor alone. However, given the rent coming due on the elegant town house he'd leased here in Bath, he decided he had better depart as planned.
Were he worried that Grace was in any way attracted to Cooke, he would have stayed regardless of his prior commitment. But despite her obvious friendship with him, he could tell that her affection went no deeper. Oh, Cooke wished it did, Jack realized, sensing again that he had a rival in the man. But if Grace were interested in him that way, she would surely have acted on her emotions long ago.
It certainly hasn't taken her long to respond to her attraction to me.
"Unfortunately you are right and I cannot remain," Jack told her, lowering his voice to a confidential tone. Taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a warm kiss onto her palm. "Have a most excellent afternoon, and I shall see you this evening."
Pink stole into her cheeks. "I look forward to it, my lord."
"Jack," he whispered against her ear.
Straightening, he turned to the other man and exchanged farewells. With a last glance at Grace, he departed.
"So, that was the infamous Lord Jack Byron, was it?" Terrence remarked not long after Jack left.
Grace finished pouring the tea that had arrived and passed Terrence a cup. "What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing." He gave a negligent shrug, then took a drink of the gently steaming beverage. "Only that the man has a reputation, and not all to the good."
"Well, I am sure no man is perfect, and I am not surprised to hear as much about Jack-Lord Jack, that is."
"So you're aware he's a womanizer."
A plum-sized fist squeezed beneath her ribs. "No, but again, I am not surprised. He is a very handsome man. Women must naturally flock his way."
Terrence gave a derisive snort. "If you like the type, I suppose." Leaning over, he reached for a wafer-thin slice of shortbread. After dipping it into his tea, he took a bite and swallowed. "You've heard he gambles then, too, have you?"
"All gentlemen gamble. It is practically a social requirement of the breed."
///
"Yes, but do most make a habit of using the tables to fatten their incomes? I understand he is quite the sharp."
Her brows drew together, the heat of the cup warming her suddenly chill fingers. Having sat beside Jack watching him anticipate every card played in an entire game of whist, she could well believe Terrence's assertions. Jack did have a rare aptitude for games, but that only meant he was clever. Many people liked to play cards. There was no reason to think ill of him for it.
"I suppose next you will say he drinks too much," she charged.
Terrence frowned. "He drinks, but not to excess. Compared to many aristocratic lords, he's practically temperate."
"Well, at least he is spared that criticism." She set her cup down on the table with a snap. "What is this? Why the interest in Lord Jack? I don't understand how it is you even come to know of him."
"Do you not? Perhaps it is because I've heard talk all the way to London about the pair of you."
"What talk?"
"About how you've taken up with him. How you're being squired all over Bath by him."
"I find it highly unlikely that I am being mentioned in the gossip pages. So where are you getting your information?"
He glanced to one side. "From an acquaintance here in the city, who keeps an eye on such things."
Her lips tightened as a suspicion rose within her. "On things? Or on me?"
He had the humility to flush. "I care about you, Grace. I want to make sure you are all right. That's why I came to see you, to intervene before it's too late."
"Too late for what? As you can tell, I am perfectly well."
"You are now, but what of later? What do you think you are doing, consorting with that man?"
"What do you mean, ‘consorting'?"
"Letting him dance attendance on you, flattering and fawning over you? He wants something from you."
"Well, it isn't my money, if that is what you are insinuating."
"Having met him, I tend to agree. No, what he wants is something worse. He wants you, Grace, and he doesn't mean to offer you a ring in exchange for your favors."
She stared at her clasped hands. "Yes, I am already aware of that."
"What?"
Glancing up, she met his gaze. "I know he wants me. He's told me that himself. And I realize he very likely doesn't have matrimony in mind."
"And you are still seeing him?" Terrence said, his voice rising to a near shout.
She nodded. "For now. I am trying to decide."
Leaping to his feet, Terrence took a few pacing steps. "Decide what? Whether or not to accept? Don't be insane. You will say no, of course. My God, how could you even consider anything else?"
Knowing he might not appreciate her answer, she held her tongue.
"He's bewitched you."
"He has not."
"He's seducing you, urging you to go against your nature."
"And what is my nature?"
Is it to be five and twenty and alone? A perennial spinster who will never know real passion or the full measure of a man's touch?
Striding back, he dropped down on the sofa at her side. "It isn't to be used and cast aside. It isn't to be dishonored. And that is what he'll do. He'll take you and enjoy you, and when he grows tired, he'll abandon you and forget you ever met. He's had dozens of women. It's what he does. You'll be just one more. And when it's over, what then? What will become of you, since I am sure your family will not approve."
She closed her eyes, having had those very thoughts herself. Was Terrence right? Was she being a fool to cast aside her virtue and her pride for a fleeting love affair with Jack Byron?