Chapter Six
Despite her brief acquaintance, Grace found the Countess of Strathmore’s house to be like the countess herself—friendly, comfortable, and not at all intimidating.
She still expected Ormsby to pop up whenever she entered a room, ready to overset her emotions.
She had been on her guard for so long that even now, when she knew he was on his way to his country estate, she could not completely relax.
Despite the countess’s kindness and the private bedchamber that was now hers, it would take some time before she could believe she really was free of her father’s malevolent influence.
Grace sat down on her bed and let her shoulders slump.
They ached from holding herself so stiffly, and there was a pounding in her head that threatened to become one of the truly awful headaches she sometimes experienced.
This last week had been a whirl of emotions.
Relief because she was leaving the orbit of Ormsby, and although she told herself he would no longer be able to control her every action, she knew that was not entirely true.
Anticipation because she was entering a new phase of her life, one that she had control over which gave her a reason to look forward to the future.
And finally, sadness because her sisters were left behind.
Who would look out for them now? Who would protect them from their father’s ire, as Grace did, putting herself in his way to divert his attention from them to her?
She had taken the lash of many a cruel word with his tongue as his weapon.
Prudence was almost sixteen now, and Grace was well aware that the earl was already seeking out a suitable husband for the girl.
Grace shuddered. Prudence was so young, a child still, and she was in no way prepared for marriage.
Ormsby would not be looking for a gentleman who was kind; his eyes would be firmly focused on someone with wealth and influence.
Despite Ormsby declaring he would no longer welcome Grace into his home, she was determined to remain in the girls’ lives as much as she possibly could. And she would do everything in her power to stop the earl from making decisions that might cause them harm.
But right at this moment, she must think of her own situation.
Although Lord Rory MacKenzie had told her she was free to do as she wished, and she had her dowry money to provide her with lodgings and food at least for a little while, Grace was aware that things were not quite that simple.
Yes, she could be frugal; she had had to penny pinch all her life.
She did not desire the sort of opulence some women craved.
For Grace, safety was far more important—she wanted a haven and one she could share with her sisters.
For as long as she remained married to Rory, she could do that.
Remember what I told you.
The earl’s words felt like a weight dragging her down. She had kept them at bay today while everything else was going on, but now she was alone there was nothing to stop the memory of Ormsby’s warning.
“Your marriage will not be legal unless it is consummated. MacKenzie knows that. Perhaps he has promised to stay away from your bed?” The earl had smirked when he saw the acknowledgement in her expression.
“He probably knows if he does not lay with you then he can be rid of you whenever he pleases.”
Grace had shaken her head in horrified denial.
“Oh yes he can,” Ormsby said. “Don’t be such a fool, Grace.
What if he finds a woman he wants as his wife who is a far better match than you?
He wouldn’t think twice, and even if he has some reservations, his father won’t.
You would soon be abandoned and then you would come whining at my door like a stray cat.
Well, let me tell you this, I will not open it.
This is your one and only chance, so listen and listen well.
If you want to ensure you are safe and secure in your marriage to MacKenzie, you must consummate it. ”
Grace had stared back at him in angry, frightened silence.
“And don’t pretend to me you don’t know how to persuade a man into your bed,” the earl said viciously, his eyes like chips of ice.
“You have done it before. Your little plot that backfired when that fool Buckingham ran off. Don’t think I didn’t see exactly what you were up to with him.
Well, now you have a second chance. It’s in both our interests to keep MacKenzie from running off, too. See that you do what is necessary.”
Now Grace let go a deep sigh. He was right and she knew it.
She could not risk Rory deciding to annul their marriage.
She must do her best to coax her new husband into her bed or she would be putting her future—and more importantly, that of her sisters—in jeopardy.
And because he had already told her he had no intention of bedding her, then she must use her wiles.
She reminded herself that Rory was a man, and a lusty man if the rumors about him were true.
Why would he not welcome his wife into his bed tonight despite his words to the contrary?
Especially if he thought she was willing.
She was sure he would turn his back on his undertakings as easily as Bolton Buckingham had.
Besides, Grace was in no position to have scruples. It was either seduce Lord Rory or see herself cast out.
Something was scratching at her door.
Startled out of her thoughts, she stood up and stared at the wooden panels, thinking again of Ormsby and then shook her head.
Of course it wasn’t him! Perhaps an overly polite servant?
Instead of calling out, she went to open the door, just a crack, before widening it.
There was no one there. And then her gaze dropped and she realized there was a large tabby and white cat staring up at her with yellow eyes.
For a moment they simply gazed at each other, and then the creature strolled past her and into her bedchamber.
By the time she had closed the door again, the cat was on her bed, busily making itself comfortable.
The animal’s purring was very loud, and she couldn’t help but smile.
She had never had a pet. Ormsby had refused to have any animals in his house, and his dogs were used strictly for hunting on his estate.
Grace reached out a tentative hand and stroked the soft fur. The purring grew louder.
“Good evening,” she whispered. “I am so glad to see you. Perhaps we can be friends?”
The cat seemed to agree, yellow eyes meeting hers while its large paws continued to knead the bedding.
“I don’t know how long I will be staying here,” Grace went on, speaking her thoughts aloud. “The countess seems very kind, but I don’t want to trespass on her hospitality. Once I am sure Rory cannot declare our marriage null and void, I will find somewhere else.”
The cat made a sound as if it agreed.
Grace supposed she should change out of her wedding dress. The countess had mentioned a celebratory dinner with just the three of them at the table. Not really much of a celebration in Grace’s opinion, but it was kindly meant.
She looked down at herself, aware of her ragged petticoat beneath her pink gown.
Her clothing was woefully inadequate, but it would have to do.
She could not afford to spend money on fripperies when she needed every penny to survive, and to create a home for her sisters.
Her luggage had already been brought up—a single bag—but when she opened it, she discovered that some industrious servant had already unpacked.
Grace cringed at the thought of what they must think of her shabby garments.
There was only one other dress suitable for the dinner.
It was white with blue trim about the hem and sleeves, and although it was out of date, it was more flattering than the pink one.
She had mentioned her predicament to the earl last week but he had not offered to pay for anything new—and honestly she had not expected him to.
Before she could begin to change her dress, there was a knock on the door, and this time it was a human being.
A youngish girl bobbed a curtsy and said she had come to help her dress for dinner.
She cast a suspicious glance at the cat, which ignored her.
It was dozing now, paws tucked under it, eyes at half mast.
“There is really no need,” Grace began firmly. She had dressed herself for many years now, as well as dressing her sisters. The thought popped into her head: Who would help them now?
“The countess insists,” the maid said, as if that was the final word on the matter.
So Grace stood compliant as she was undressed and dressed, and then had her hair brushed and pinned up in an elegant and becoming style.
A glance in the mirror showed a somber young lady, and she thanked the maid, who had done her best. But nothing could take away from the fact that her clothing was old and worn and there were shadows under her eyes.
“My lady,” the servant gave a curtsy. “The countess says that dinner will be served whenever you are ready.”
Grace was hardly aware of the door closing behind the girl.
She knew she must go back downstairs and make conversation with these people who held her fate in their hands.
It was not pleasant knowing her future, and even her present, depended on strangers.
They were generous enough now, but how could she trust that they would remain so?
What if they decided they did not want the bother of her?
Where would she go? She knew she could not go home.
Grace reminded herself again of her father’s words.
For Rory to be her husband by law, she must consummate their marriage. She must make it legal.
She thought of his blue eyes, watchful and yet warm.
He had been at ease when they first met, before he fully understood the trap he had walked into.
Grace had not known him, and still she had trusted him enough to place her future in his hands.
Not that she had had much choice, but she could have chosen to marry Fitt.
She shuddered.
Perhaps she could make Rory desire her enough to want to come to her bed tonight and save her the embarrassment of creeping into his?
But she did not think so. There had been something solemn about him when he had given her his word.
As if he had meant it, and now that she thought about it, Rory seemed like the sort of proud man who would see being asked to break it as insulting.
If Grace wanted to make this marriage legal, then making it so was up to her.