Chapter 2
The passing countryside held no interest for Edward as he travelled from London to Rose Park—the Home for Desolate Ladies. All he could think about was seeing Grace once again. He remembered the last time he’d seen her, and felt the pain so earnestly, as if it were yesterday.
He’d left her standing under a large oak tree, tears glistening in the corners of her brown eyes.
They were supposed to be going on a clandestine picnic, but he’d since received word that his cousin had taken ill, and his presence was required at Tavistock Hall posthaste.
He only managed a brief explanation, a quick kiss, and a promise to write before he was racing away.
By the time he reached the Hall, Jacob was near death.
His cousin lingered for weeks, in and out—mostly out—of consciousness, but during the few moments he was lucid, he attempted to enlighten Edward about the ways of the dukedom.
Those days had passed in a haze of unbelievability.
How could a man in his prime be taken down by illness so quickly?
Edward wrote to Grace the day his cousin died.
He wanted to return to her, to find comfort in her company.
He promised to write her again, but duty dictated his life, and then he discovered she’d married—a supposed love match.
Anger and hurt ripped through his heart, trampled upon by betrayal.
He tried to get answers from Conway, but Grace’s brother was vague in his response, simply stating that Grace was content.
It took months before Edward could say her name without disgust, and during the lonely period afterwards, that had lasted years, more and more questions arose.
He couldn’t state why, but those events in the past didn’t make sense.
He could never truly believe she’d married Banks for love.
But he found himself accepting it anyway because he wanted happiness for her—despite being utterly miserable himself.
However, now he knew he was to see her, he wanted answers.
As he approached Rose Park, he tried to concentrate on its grand classical facade rather than the nervous excitement coursing through his veins. It was shocking that someone had gambled away this house in a game of Hazard. But one man’s loss had been to the benefit of many women.
Before too long, he was waiting in the large entry hall for Grace. Would she look the same? Would she blush with remembrances of the intimacies they’d shared? Or had she completely forgotten him?
Movement at the top of the stairs caught his attention. His gaze drifted up. Their eyes collided, and for one moment, he was transported back to the day when they’d first met.
“Hello, Grace.” He didn’t want to think of her as Mrs. Banks. He wanted…
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” she said as her eyes roved over him, warming him from the inside out.
As if realizing his reaction to her wandering gaze, she quickly sucked in her breath and put forth a stoic facade.
“I understand you wanted to speak with me?” Her tone was cold and distant, with a hint of annoyance.
Why was she annoyed? Wasn’t it she who had happily married another? Something nudged in the back of his mind. Unless….
“Your Grace, why is it you’re here?” Her reprimand broke through his thoughts.
“Why did you marry—”
“I truly do not have time for this.” She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms, keeping her stance rigid and unfriendly as she took the last couple of steps. “Now if that is all—”
“No, it’s not all,” he ground out. Damn it.
He was having a difficult time concentrating.
Being this near to her after all these years stirred to life remembrances of their last kiss.
His hands ached to touch, to explore, to…
He shook that thought away—at least for the moment.
There would be plenty of time to discover the truth.
“Lord Kenwreck has arranged for me to use the Dower House.”
Disbelief weighed heavily in her words. “You’re the guest Kenwreck informed us about?”
“Yes. My cousin, Lady Winifred, has gone missing, and Kenwreck has generously offered accommodation while I’m searching in this part of the country.”
Her face blanched slightly, but she didn’t say anything.
He suspected Grace was hiding something.
It was out of character for her to remain silent.
Although, of course, that had been the Grace he once knew.
The woman standing before him looked like her, but there was a quality that was different about her he couldn’t quite place, and it had nothing to do with her frosty glare.
He would have to ponder this more later. First things first.
“I was hoping that perhaps Lady Winifred sought refuge here. She is quite petite.” He moved toward her, then raised his hand to the height of her shoulders. “Probably only coming to here.”
Her eyes settled on his hand.
“Winifred’s eyes are green, like mine.”
Her eyelashes flying up, her wide brown eyes met his.
“And her hair is also quite similar to mine in color.”
She swallowed hard.
Now Edward was certain she was hiding something.
She cleared her throat. “There is no one here by that name, or description.” Her tone was firm, yet unconvincing. She moved toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Your Grace, we’re in the midst of getting everything ready for—”
“Christmas Eve. Of course, then I will be certain to stay in the vicinity for Christmastide and enjoy the festivities.”
Wide, shocked eyes met his. “It wasn’t an invitation, Your Grace.”
He detested the sound of his title on her lips. It reminded him not only of his cousin’s death, but when he’d lost her.
“I know it wasn’t… Grace,” he said, then offered a bow and took his leave. Two and a half years ago, she’d broken his heart by marrying another without so much as a word. Now, he’d seen her again, his list of questions was growing longer by the minute, and he wanted answers.
“Damn him,” Grace swore under her breath as she retreated upstairs.
The description Edward had given of Lady Winifred was remarkably similar to Mary’s. Could they be one and the same? She’d never met Lady Winifred, but he’d often spoken fondly of his young cousin. Lady Winifred and her brother—the late Duke of Tavistock—were always stirring some sort of mischief.
She paused outside Mary’s door. Should she question the young woman? The Home had a policy of not prying, but… What was her obligation to Edward?
After what he’d done to her, none.
Hot tears stung her eyes as emotions and heartache raced their way from the dark recesses of her mind.
Damn him. She moved away from the door and hurried on down the hall, praying that she would not encounter anyone.
She did not want to explain her distress, and most definitely did not want to talk about the past.
Damn him!
Why did he have to come here now, when she’d finally discovered peace and freedom from the past?
Pain constricted her heart, threatening the happiness she’d found.
Rushing into her room, she closed the door, images from long ago pushing their way into the present.
Remembrances of passionate kisses and sensual embraces teased her.
She’d been such a na?ve fool to believe his pretty, sentimental words.
That had been the beginning of her downfall.
Moving across the room to the wardrobe, she stared at its closed doors.
Should she? She sucked in a deep breath, then released it on a long, slow exhale.
It had been more than two years. Without further thought, she opened the door wide, knelt, and searched for the small box she’d kept hidden at the rear of the cabinet.
“Here it is.” Her whisper filled the enclosed space. Grabbing the box, she went to sit beside the empty fireplace. Countless seconds passed as she stared at the receptacle. She had not looked at its contents in such a long time.
With trembling hands, she lifted the lid. A stack of neatly folded letters—love letters from him, to be exact—filled the box. She drew out the top letter, the last she’d received, and unfolded it. Hot tears streamed down her cheek as she read.
My dearest Grace,
My world has been turned upside down. My once hail cousin succumbed to illness this very morning.
Never in my wildest nightmares would I have fathomed I would become the 9th Duke of Tavistock.
There is much to do, and time is not my own.
I’ll write to you again soon. No matter what the future holds, always remember that you alone are the keeper of my heart, my soul.
Always and Forever Yours,
Edward
“Always and Forever Yours.” The words left her mouth in a mere whisper.
Lies! She crumpled the letter in her hands. If he was hers, why hadn’t he written again? If he’d truly loved her, why had news of his engagement to Miss Bisbrown circulated a short time later?
Heavy sobs tore through her body. Why did he have to come here now? Why did her heart still ache for him? Why…
She sat in the coldness of her room, waiting for answers to magically appear, to enlighten her. There were no more tears, just a dreary loneliness that weighed upon her dreams.
A soft knock sounded on the door before Beata peered in. “I heard you had a visitor. How are you?” Beata was the only person in the world who knew what she’d been through, how much she’d suffered at the hands of her late husband, and that, even now, her heart still ached for another.
She responded on a shaky breath. “His Grace is searching for his cousin.”
Beata tilted her head and offered a sideways glance. “Only his cousin?”
Despite a glimmer of hope in the darkest part of her soul, she reminded herself that there was no other explanation for his arrival. “Yes.”
Beata stepped farther into the room. “You should talk to His Grace, tell him what happened.”