The Rake's Wicked Proposal - Page 62

‘Damn it, of course I am upset. Yes, Reynolds?’ Darius turned scowlingly to the butler as he quietly entered the room.

‘Lord Lucian St Claire and Lady Arabella St Claire have called to see Miss Hetherington, Your Grace.’

Grace could not help but recoil at the butler’s use of Darius’s new title. It was his title now, of course, but it seemed somehow irreverent when Grace’s Uncle George had only been dead a matter of hours.

‘Curiosity seekers!’ Francis muttered disgustedly.

Grace looked at him coldly. ‘They are here because I sent Lord Lucian a note earlier this morning, informing him of my uncle’s death.’

Francis gave a humourless smile. ‘Of course you did.’

Grace bit back her sharp retort, turning to the butler instead. ‘Show Lord Lucian and Lady Arabella into the drawing-room, Reynolds,’ she instructed, before turning to Darius. ‘If you will excuse me…?’

Much as Grace knew it would be awkward to face Lucian again after the intimacies of yesterday evening, it would nevertheless be a relief to have respite from the obvious tension between the two Wynter brothers. Besides, no doubt Arabella’s presence would help ease the awkwardness of Grace’s initial meeting with Lucian.

‘Yes, of course.’ Darius’s scowl was darker than ever.

Grace curtseyed before escaping the room, pausing in the hallway to allow a heavy sigh to escape her. She already knew that the next few days were going to be difficult, but they would be made even more so if Darius and Francis remained at loggerheads.

She gave a shake of her head, knowing that she could not deal with that now, and that Lucian and Arabella awaited her in the drawing room.

‘Arabella!’ She moved gracefully across the room to greet the younger woman, and Arabella reached out to grasp Grace’s hands in her own before kissing her warmly on the cheek.

Grace was completely aware of Lucian as Arabella offered her words of comfort. He stood broodingly silent beside the fireplace, his dark hair falling over his brow, his lids lowered over enigmatic dark eyes, his expression one of sculptured hardness. His appearance was immaculate in black coat and grey breeches, the snowy white linen of his shirt completely unadorned.

Very much like the shirt Grace had stripped from him the evening before…

‘Lord Lucian.’ She turned to give him a brief curtsey, her lashes lowered. ‘It is very kind of you both to respond so quickly to my note.’

Lucian frowned darkly at Grace’s distant behaviour. ‘I told you I would come if you had need of me…’

‘So you did.’ She gave an acknowledging inclination of her head as she avoided so much as looking at him.

It incited conflicting emotions inside Lucian. He had not wanted to be alone with Grace this morning—the clarity of his dreams the previous night, of his possessing Grace fully, dictated that in the circumstances it would not be a wise move on his part. But recognising that Grace did not wish to be alone with him either contrarily made Lucian wish he had not, after all, brought Arabella with him. He so wanted to take Grace into his arms and shake her out of this distant behaviour towards him by kissing her senseless!

Grace indicated for them both to be seated—an invitation Lucian did not take up as he continued to stand beside the fireplace, looking down at her frowningly. She looked pale and fragile this morning, the dark shadows beneath her eyes indicative of her lack of sleep, but at the same time she was possessed of a delicate courage that would not allow her to break down.

‘I believe Lord Darius—the Duke…’ She gave a pained frown at the necessity of using Darius’s new title. ‘I believe he is making arrangements for us all to return to Winton Hall as soon as possible.’

Arabella, seated beside Grace on the sofa and retaining possession of one of her hands, was the one to answer. ‘You are retiring to the country?’

Grace nodded. ‘It is my aunt’s wish that my uncle be buried in Worcestershire.’

Arabella looked up at Lucian. ‘You will accompany Grace, of course?’

It was a statement rather than a question. One that Lucian knew he should have been expecting. But he had not. Of course, as Grace’s betrothed he would be expected to accompany the Wynter family back to their home in Worcestershire—to be at Grace’s side at the funeral, and to remain there for as long as she wished him to do so.

Tags: Carole Mortimer Billionaire Romance
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