But as much as she longed to ask him, she could not. She would not. She had to have the words from him, freely given and honestly expressed.
As for their marriage-she was starting to believe there might be hope for it too. They'd been … dare she say it? … happy of late. Perhaps she should give them-give him-the second chance he wanted and find out if they could have a life together, after all.
She was pondering that precise question five weeks later, during a quiet moment at the Pettigrews' ball, when Meg unexpectedly appeared at her side.
"Here you are," her sister-in-law stated, slipping into an empty seat next to her. "I never thought you'd stop dancing. You've had a partner for every set this evening."
"All but this one, and I'm glad for the respite."
Smiling, Meg nodded her lovely blond head with understanding. Since joining the ranks of the Ton last year, she'd become a favorite among Society's elegantly dressed men and women-half of whom seemed to be crowded at present into the overly warm ballroom.
"Where is Jack, by the way?" Meg asked. "I was sure he'd be at your side the moment he noticed you were alone."
"He mentioned something about port and political talk with several of the men, then told me to enjoy myself until the supper dance. I am forbidden to entertain invitations for it from anyone else."
"Jack is so possessive these days. I'm surprised he left you alone at all."
"It's not possessiveness. He just doesn't want to have to make small talk with some other lady over supper," she said with humorous dismissal. "He knows with me he can eat in complete silence and I won't take offense."
Meg waved a hand. "As though he would. You two are always talking, even when you think yourselves alone."
"I could say the same of you and Cade. I've never seen a happier couple."
Meg gave her an almost shy smile, an interesting glow rushing to her cheeks. "I was going to wait a bit longer, but I'm just bursting to tell someone. Besides Cade, of course. He's the only one who knows."
"Knows what?"
Glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, Meg leaned forward. "I'm with child! The doctor was by just yesterday and confirmed what I already suspected. There's going to be a new Byron in the family come the New Year."
Giving a small shout, Grace flung her arms around her friend. "Oh, Meg, I'm so happy for you! No wonder you're bursting to tell. If it were me, I'd be telling everyone I met."
Meg laughed and returned her hug. "You'll have your chance soon, I've no doubt. By next year, we'll both be mothers. Mark my words."
In that moment Grace realized that she wanted her sister-in-law to be right. She longed for a baby-a son who looked exactly like Jack. Thinking of Jack, she knew she had to share Meg's secret with him. Assuming she could gain her approval first.
"Oh, I must go find Jack and tell him the good news," she said. "If you'll let me, that is?"
Meg paused briefly. "I suppose it's fine. Cade won't be able to keep his mouth shut for long either. We were going to wait and tell his mother tomorrow, then announce it to everyone else afterwards. But since you already know, I can't see the harm if Jack does too."
///
"Oh, he'll be so excited to hear he's going to be an uncle!" Giving the other woman a second hug, Grace sprang to her feet and left the ballroom.
" … excellent chap for finance. If you're looking for some sound investment advice, you can't go wrong with him."
"Rafe Pendragon, you say," Jack remarked, taking Lord Pettigrew's calling card with the other man's name penciled on the back. "My thanks. I'll consider the suggestion."
"If you're smart, you'll do more than consider. I'm telling you everything that fellow touches turns to gold. If you don't believe me, talk to Wyvern. The duke's known him for years. Went to Harrow together, if rumors are to be believed. Don't know if I do, considering Pendragon's street-hardened reputation. Then again, I hear he's some lord's by-blow, so who knows for sure. Anyway, next time you see Tony Wyvern, mention that name. He'll tell you what's what."
Jack gazed at the card once more, then slipped it into his coat pocket. With a nod, he watched as Pettigrew left the study.
Glancing around, Jack noticed he was alone, the rest of the gentlemen who'd gathered earlier for drinks and discussion having left already to return to the party. He would have done the same himself a good twenty minutes ago if Lord Pettigrew hadn't kept him talking so long.
Tossing back the last of his brandy, he set down the snifter and turned to go in search of Grace. Hopefully she wouldn't be dancing with some popinjay who was eager for a chance to become her cicisbeo. If so, he'd just have to cut in and send the scoundrel on his way. Smiling to himself, he started toward the door.
He stopped short seconds later, eyebrows arching upward as a woman glided into the room, the diaphanous red skirts of her gown swirling around her legs. "Philipa," he said in surprise.
Her mouth curved into a sensuous smile, her beautiful green eyes gleaming like a cat's. "Jack. I thought I heard you in here."
"Did you now?" he drawled in amused disbelief. "Odd, but I wasn't talking, being that I'm alone as you can see."
"Yes, I can see." On a graceful step, she sauntered deeper into the room. "But up until a minute ago, Lord Pettigrew was bombarding you with one pontification after another. I never did think he'd cease his endless prattle."
He decided not to counter the remark. "So, you've been waiting for me, then?"
"Well, not waiting exactly. And certainly not in the hallway, if that's what you're implying. The little anteroom next door has amazingly good acoustics. A cozy seat next to the grate and voices carry like bells. Besides, I brought a friend along for company. He kept me … entertained, shall we say."
"Entertained, was it?"
She shrugged, eyes twinkling slyly. "A girl gets bored, you know. He proved to be a deliciously meaty appetizer, but I shooed him off back to the party before I came to find you."
A laugh rumbled from his lips. "You are the most unabashedly decadent woman I've ever known."
"And you adore it. Or at least you used to when we were together. Why haven't you come to see me, darling?" she said, thrusting out her full, lower lip in a sultry pout. "You've been in Town for weeks and weeks, and not so much as a word."
"We've spoken a time or two, as I recall. We seem to attend many of the same social functions."
"Same circles, same balls. Yes, yes, I know," she said, gliding closer. "But that was just insignificant small talk. I meant that we haven't talked in private."
"That's because I'm married now."
"Yes, I know," she sighed. "Your bride is invited everywhere these days, and considering her height and hair color, she's rather hard to miss."
His eyebrows furrowed.
"Not that she isn't pretty," she amended quickly. "She's very striking in an Amazonian kind of way. I was merely pointing out the obvious."
He crossed his arms over his chest.
"And I'm sure she's proved amusing," she continued. "Those legs of hers must wrap around you like sailors' knots."
"That's quite enough, Lady Stockton," he said, his words low and hard.
"Oh, don't fly up the boughs. I was only having a bit of fun. Where's your sense of humor?"
He stayed silent, not trusting what might come out of his mouth.
"I was simply testing you," she went on. "I had to know if the rumors are really true."
///
"What rumors?"
"The ones that claim you're desperately in love with her." Her shoulders sank, a measure of her bravado falling away. "I've seen the two of you together, but I didn't want to believe it. I had to find out for myself."
This time when he scowled, it wasn't in anger but rather in confusion.
"But I can see now that she's captured your heart," she continued. "Remarkable, considering what you told me about how you had to marry her for her money."
"I never said that," he shot back.
"Didn't you? As I recall, you told me you got stuck with her as the result of a bad run of luck at the tables."
He cringed inside, hating to hear what he'd once said. Had he really been so callous? So thoughtless and cruel? But he hadn't known Grace then. Not the way he knew her now.
Stepping closer, Philipa laid a hand on his sleeve. "There's no chance you'll come back to me, then? No hope you'll grow tired of her and seek my bed again?"