Chapter Sixteen
It didn’t matter how luxurious the Glanmore travelling carriage was, how well-sprung or how deep the cushions, Grace had never been more uncomfortable.
Not a single member of the family had pointed out that they were all being forced to leave London because of her parents.
Not that they could prove her parents were behind the break-in.
Despite some of the duke’s men going back to the place Bobby Lambert, the young man who had done the breaking in on their behalf, had last seen the couple, there was no sign of them there or in the surrounding area.
Mr Lambert’s description of the man certainly sounded like it could have been Grace’s father.
It wasn’t that Grace didn’t think the couple could be anyone other than her parents.
She was under no illusions as to the lengths they would go to get their hands on Charlotte’s wealth.
It was more the excruciating embarrassment, for want of a better word, the stress, worry and sheer inconvenience her family were putting onto this generous family.
A family with four young children and a fifth on the way.
‘You will love Glanmore Park,’ said Sophia, the only Dashworth wife sharing the sumptuous carriage with her. ‘Christopher and I got married there just over a month ago and it was rather magical.’
From the way Sophia looked at her husband as if he had hung the moon, Grace suspected the wedding had coloured the woman’s impression of the place.
‘I am sure it will be lovely,’ she said, because that’s what she thought the other woman wanted to hear, not because she agreed.
It was going to be an awkward nightmare.
Everyone was busy pretending that, although her parents were undoubtedly duplicitous, horrible people, it had nothing to do with her. ‘Will your sisters be able to join us?’
‘Thankfully, only the younger two will be coming with my mother. The older two are rather taken with His Grace. Tobias,’ Sophia corrected herself with a fierce blush, evidently not used to being part of the family yet and referring to the duke by his given name.
‘Marissa thinks she is one more meeting away from becoming his duchess.’
Something cold and hard wrapped itself around Grace’s heart, something that felt an awful lot like jealousy at the thought of Tobias marrying this faceless stranger.
That could not be good. She had absolutely no right to feel that for the man.
She did not want to remarry, even if it was to a man with a strong jaw and an even stronger moral compass.
Marriage was a cage for women, one they could not escape.
Handsome though Tobias was, she was not going to make the mistake of entering that prison willingly.
She could admire his good looks and his personality from afar and not succumb to anything worse.
‘Do you think your sister will succeed?’ she asked, pleased when no hint of her emotion revealed itself.
‘Goodness me, no. They are not at all suited. It is embarrassing more than anything, but I think, I hope, Tobias is completely unaware of her intentions. I should be mortified otherwise.’
That could not be relief sweeping through Grace; the very idea that she would care either way about Tobias and his marital prospects was absurd.
There were many women on the marriage mart who would be after Tobias and not just because of the dukedom or his wealth.
They would notice, as she had, how well he filled out his clothes, the fine curve of his biceps and the strength of his legs beneath his well-cut pantaloons.
Not that Grace was actively looking for these things; they did, however, draw one’s eye when he was near.
‘If he is aware of it, I am sure he will pretend otherwise to save your blushes,’ said Grace. ‘He seems considerate that way.’
‘Oh, he is,’ said Sophia quickly. ‘I know he has a reputation for being stern, but he is ever so kind to his brothers and you should see him with his nieces; he positively dotes on them. And Edward’s two wards, he has quite accepted them as family despite them being no relation at all.’
What followed was a long list of Tobias’ attributes.
It wasn’t until Sophia started to pontificate on how well-read the duke was that it occurred to Grace that the woman was trying to paint him in the light of a potential husband for her.
Tobias had warned her of this possibility, she had even seen some hint of it herself, but none of the family had been this obvious before.
Warring emotions bubbled up inside her and she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
It was amusing how deep Sophia was willing to dig to show Tobias in a relentless good light; he was almost a paragon by this stage.
It was deeply, deeply, touching that, after everything, Sophia still thought Grace was a good match for the duke.
For a while, she let Sophia continue, as she sought the right words to say.
‘He sounds like he would make someone a fine spouse,’ she said stoutly.
‘Oh yes, he would.’ Sophia beamed, obviously pleased to get her message across. Grace’s heart ached because she would very soon disappoint her.
‘It is a pity I shall never take another husband, or I should seriously consider him as a potential spouse. But alas, I shall never enter the marital state again.’ Perhaps she was doing it a bit too brown, but she wanted Sophia to understand there would be no union between her and Tobias.
‘Really?’ said Sophia, wrinkling her nose. ‘Whyever not?’
‘Christopher seems like a very decent young man and he clearly adores you. My marriage, however, was horrid. My late husband was a bully and a rogue and it has quite put me off the institution.’ Grace turned to stare out at the passing countryside so that Sophia could not see her face; she did not want the innocent woman to get a glimpse of the horror that lurked within Grace’s mind when she thought of Ichabod.
‘I am sorry to hear that,’ said Sophia. ‘That does sound ghastly, but Tobias would not treat you that way.’
Ah, so they were moving on from even attempting to be subtle. ‘I am sure the duke will treat any wife he acquires like a queen, but that person shall not be me.’
The gentlemen were riding alongside the carriages and Grace caught sight of the man in question.
Tobias’ horse was a tall chestnut stallion, but it was the way Tobias was riding him that held Grace’s attention.
Grace did not ride; she had a slight fear of horses and their size, but there was much to admire about the duke’s seat, his straight back, his strong legs and the competent way in which he guided his horse over the terrain.
His gaze was scanning the countryside; clearly he was watching out for anyone lurking in the undergrowth.
‘But he is so different with you,’ said Sophia. ‘He talks. I do not think you realise how special that makes you. We all think so.’
Grace bit her lip, unsure whether to share her theory about Tobias’ speech being more to do with some sort of impediment than a lack of wanting to talk.
If he was more relaxed around everyone, then she believed he would speak more freely.
Their own meetings had been rather unconventional, which was probably what had broken down the barriers Tobias normally put in place.
But she still did not want to share her theory with anyone else.
If she was wrong, it would be awful. But if she was right, then she would be sharing something Tobias might not want widely known.
‘I argue with him,’ she said lightly. ‘He is not used to being questioned. Perhaps you should try it and see if he responds.’
‘Oh, no, no, no. I could not possibly disagree with him on anything. I find speaking to him difficult enough. Christopher says I will find him less intimidating the more I get to know him, but I have been living with the family for nearly two months now and if anything I am even more daunted by his presence than ever before. He is quite terrifying.’
That went against almost everything Sophia had said to her only moments ago, but Grace decided not to point that out. ‘Perhaps he is naturally a quiet and reflective person,’ she said instead.
‘Oh yes, he undoubtedly is the very best of men,’ said Sophia, clearly remembering she was supposed to be singing the duke’s praises.
‘He has been generous towards me since I moved in. Kate and Emily say that he is like that with them too. He has also kindly said that he would like to put one of my paintings in the entranceway.’
‘That is lovely.’ Keen to change the topic, she asked, ‘What do you intend to paint?’
‘Lord Sebastian. I never met him, but Christopher and I saw a painting of a young boy earlier this year and my husband remarked on how much it reminded him of his brother. Knowing what I do of the brothers, I tweaked some of the features they have in common, the dark hair and eyes, as an example. They were taken with the end result and asked for a larger, more detailed portrait. It is quite the undertaking, but I am enjoying the challenge.’
‘I shall look forward to seeing that when it is complete.’
‘I keep forgetting that you knew him well. Christopher always speaks highly of him. He says he had an incredible imagination and a great sense of fun.’
‘Yes, he was always laughing and joking, but he could be sensible too. He had an excellent head for business and he absolutely adored my sister. For that alone, I would have liked him above all others.’
‘You must miss her desperately.’
‘I do. There is not a day that goes by when I do not think of them both. But I think—’ she touched the edge of the window, the glass firm and cool through her gloved fingers ‘—I think they would not want me to spend my life in misery. It would be important to Clare, and I think Sebastian too, that I fill my life with friends and laughter. There are days when the weight of their loss makes that seem impossible, but then I remember the good times that we had together and I think of their daughter who is living and thriving and I know that I can do that for them.’
Tears were shimmering in the other woman’s eyes, but she was smiling at her.
‘Then we shall do them both proud and have the grandest time while we are away. I know that we are out of London because of unfortunate circumstances, but the grounds of Glanmore Park are lovely and there is much to do there.’
‘Would you tell me all about it?’ said Grace.
They passed the rest of the morning in pleasant conversation. If Sophia veered too closely to how wonderful Tobias was, Grace was careful to steer the conversation back to other things.
‘How long do you think until we arrive?’ Grace asked, as the afternoon dragged on.
‘I think we are here,’ said Sophia, glancing out of the window at the green fields rolling into the distance. ‘Yes, we are inside the estate now. We should be arriving at the house within the hour.’
Grace stared out at the passing countryside, unable to believe that what she could see belonged to the dukedom.
She had understood that the family was grand, had even thought she grasped the ducal wealth, but it seemed she had underestimated it all, because nothing had prepared her for this.
The road bent round to the right and gradually the trees lining the pathway became more formal, edged with tall trees and neatly clipped hedgerows.
Still, they did not reach the house. ‘Is this…?’ She gestured to the view, not quite sure what it was she was trying to articulate, only that she was becoming increasingly sure she did not belong here.
‘Yes.’
‘Goodness.’ The coach rumbled over a well-appointed road. ‘I thought that Glanmore House was an impressive residence, but am I about to discover how naive I truly am?’
Sophia laughed. ‘I stayed here for a week and at the end of it, I still did not know my way around the main building. There are, apparently, many cottages on the grounds, most of which have tenants, but some are kept for guests.’
After what seemed at least an hour, their carriage came to a stop at the bottom of wide, curving steps.
Precisely dressed staff lined the stairs on either side.
Ahead of them, the Dashworth brothers were helping their wives down from their carriages, which had arrived slightly before that of Sophia and Grace.
Christopher appeared at their carriage door, his beaming smile only for his wife. Sophia locked eyes with him and Grace knew what it was like to be forgotten.
An impatient sigh sounded behind Sophia’s husband and the two of them moved out of the way.
Tobias filled the doorway, his tall, dark frame silhouetted against the light of the day.
He held out a hand, and even though he was only helping her down from the carriage, it somehow felt to her as if she was reaching towards safety, a roaring fire on a freezing day or a wide tree in a rainstorm.
She grasped his hand, warm skin heating hers through their gloves and she stumbled slightly.
His grip tightened around hers, not letting go until she was standing on the ground next to him.
Before them Glanmore Park stretched away from them, its sandstone exterior almost golden in the sunlight, but she did not have as much interest in it as she did in the man standing next to her.
Worry lines bracketed Tobias’ lips and the smudges beneath his eyes were dark.
A frown that had settled on his forehead yesterday was still in evidence, despite their arrival at the place he thought safe.
The toll of being the one in charge, the one who had to make the decisions, was weighing on him.
She said the first thing that came to mind; perhaps she should have thought before she spoke, but she had never been good at that. ‘Now that I have seen your house, I have changed my mind, Tobias. I will marry you after all.’