Seduced by His Touch(45)

Grace noted the sound. "Your pardon, is there something wrong with that one?"

The dowager gave a little shake of her head. "No, of course not, child.  These matters are up to you to decide as Jack's wife. I don't wish to  interfere."

For a moment, Grace worried a fingernail between her teeth, then plunged  ahead. "Actually, I'd really rather that you did interfere," she said,  sending a hopeful look toward the dowager and Mallory. "These have been  arriving for days now, and I haven't the faintest clue how to respond."

Ava looked momentarily surprised, then her face relaxed. "I would be delighted to aid you, but only if you're sure."

"I'm very sure," Grace sighed, relief sweeping through her. "Here, let me get the rest."

The dowager and Mallory laughed when they saw the stack she retrieved.  "Good heavens, all those? You poor dear, no wonder you're overwhelmed.  Here, lay them all down and we'll be through them in two shakes of a  lamb's tail."

And so the sorting began, Ava dividing the cards into "yes's," "no's" and "probably no's."

The dowager was down to the last of two invitations when she stiffened,  her fingers tightening briefly against a card written in an elegant,  flowing and obviously feminine hand. "Of all the nerve," she muttered  under her breath. Firmly and without hesitation, she transferred the  card into the "no" pile.

Curious now, Grace couldn't help but glance at the name, reading it upside down.



Philipa, Lady Stockton





"Why does Lady Stockton go in the ‘no' pile?" she asked.

Her mother-in-law met her gaze for a long moment before looking away.  "Because that is where she belongs. Now, don't concern yourself over her  further. Although should you happen to encounter her over the course of  the Season, I suggest you avoid her-politely, of course."

"I see." But Grace didn't see, not at all. "Is she so very dreadful then?"

The dowager paused. "No, not in the way you mean. She is good Ton. A  very beautiful widow, who's received in all the best houses. It's just  that … well, I've said more than enough."

But she hasn't said enough at all.

"Perhaps it would help if I knew why I should avoid her," Grace suggested.

Ava paused again and said nothing.

Mallory met Grace's gaze, knowledge alive in her eyes. With a quick  glance toward her little sister, who was occupied sketching across the  room, she leaned forward. "It's because she and Jack used to be  involved," she whispered.

"Mallory!" her mother scolded.

"Well, you've gotten her all curious now," Mallory replied, turning  toward the dowager. "Besides, someone is bound to tell her. Better she  hear it from us rather than letting some mean-spirited tattlemonger take  delight."

Her mother scowled. "You, young lady, aren't even supposed to know about such matters."

"There are a great many things I am not supposed to know. Even so, I have ears and a brain, do I not?"

"Obviously too many of both," remarked her aggrieved mother.

"So when you say involved," Grace interrupted, "you mean she is his-"

"Mistress, yes," Mallory whispered. "Oh, but she's not anymore. Jack  ended it with her before he began courting you. So you mustn't be angry  with him."

Mustn't? she thought.

Still, she had so many things to be angry with Jack over these days,  what was one more? Actually, the fact that he'd had a beautiful widow  for his mistress didn't surprise her. Grace was well aware that she was  far from the first woman to be his lover. Why, knowing Jack, the city  was probably littered with his former bedmates.

Her stomach rolled suddenly, making her wish she hadn't eaten that last  biscuit with her tea. The reaction had nothing to do with what she'd  just discovered, though, she assured herself. It's not that she minded  his having former mistresses, it's just that she didn't particularly  want to know about them. Certainly not by name!                       
       
           


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Mallory and Ava sent her suddenly concerned looks.

She forced a smile. "Don't worry. I shan't be angry. With either of you or Jack."

Both women visibly relaxed.

"You know, I rather suspect Philipa Stockton is only curious about you,"  Ava stated in a soothing tone, "despite her astonishing audacity in  issuing the invitation in the first place."

"Well, she can stay curious." Leaning over, Grace picked up the card.  With an efficient movement, she ripped the fancy paper neatly in two.  "This one is most definitely a ‘no.' Now, are we back to the ‘probably  no's?' How shall we decide?"





Chapter 21





"My apologies, gentlemen, but I'm afraid I cannot stay." Jack set down  his half-filled whiskey glass and prepared to rise from the eminently  comfortable chair in which he'd been relaxing for the past two hours.  Arranged around him in various other chairs inside the male-only  environs of Brooks's Club sat a few of his friends.

A roar of complaint issued from their ranks at his pronouncement.

"Come now, Jack," Niall Faversham said. "Surely you can spare a bit more time. It's barely evening."

"Exactly. It is evening and I need to get home."

"What he means," quipped Lord Howland as he slung a leisurely arm over  the back of his chair, "is that he's expected home. Scarcely two months  married and already he's been trained to obey the cat's paw."

Scowling, Jack rose to his feet. "Don't be stupid. I have a hot dinner  and a warm fire waiting for me. I plan to enjoy them both in the comfort  of my own residence."

"You can enjoy a hot dinner and a warm fire right here," drawled Tony  Black, Duke of Wyvern. "You don't need to go home for either of those."

Adam, Lord Gresham, broke his silence. "Ah, but Brooks's Club doesn't  offer the companionship of a lovely wife, now, does it? Nor the  opportunity to take her upstairs after that hot supper is done. If I had  what Byron does, I'd be going home now too."

Since none of the men could disagree, they gave up their attempts at further persuasion.

Jack accepted the easy escape and said his good-byes.

Leaving the club, he climbed into his coach and told the driver to take  him home. As Gresham had pointed out, he did have a lovely wife at home.  What he didn't know is whether she would be joining him for dinner or  not.

Since arriving in Town, a new distance had arisen between them. At first  he'd made an effort to escort her out for a few amusements. But she'd  lived her entire life in London, so the customary diversions seemed  largely to fall flat. They still took the occasional meal together, but  during the day she was usually busy establishing the domestic routine of  the house, while he occupied himself much as he had always done, with  one important exception. He'd stopped playing cards for profit.

The money from Grace's father had given him the kind of financial  stability he'd never known before. True, he hadn't lacked for the  necessities, even without his gaming money, but now he no longer had to  worry over every gold guinea that came and went from his pocket.

Even better, he was able to invest. If he listened to the sound advice  of men like his father-in-law, and applied a measure of prudent  management, his income should remain steady-or even increase-in the  years to come.

And so ended the necessity of gaming for extra funds. Now when he played  cards, it was strictly for fun, and never for anything but modest  stakes. If the rumor was spreading that marriage was turning "Bad Jack  Byron" dull, well, he could tolerate the remarks.

Of course there would be far more negative rumors and remarks if Grace  went through with her plan to leave him at the end of the Season.  Determined, however, to honor their agreement, he'd taken action to  fulfill the terms of their secret addendum to the settlement not long  after reaching Town.

Tucked safely now into a separate account at the Bank of England was  Grace's promised sixty thousand pounds-structured so that only she would  have control of the funds. And tomorrow he had an appointment to meet  with a land agent who would search for a comfortable house in the  country that he hoped would meet all of Grace's requirements.

As for her decision to separate permanently? Well, he would see how she  felt a few months from now. He supposed he would see how he felt as  well.

Arriving at the town house, he strode up the front steps, then inside.

"Good evening, your lordship," Appleton greeted, accepting Jack's coat and hat. "Raw night outside, if I may say."                       
       
           


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