Mr. Cavendish, I Presume
Page 47

Grace nodded again, her eyes straight ahead, and then at the door, but never on her.
“I doubt it will come to it, but should you see my mother, I beg of you not to contradict.”
“Of course not,” Grace said quickly. “You have my word.”
Amelia nodded, somewhat surprised at how easy that had been. She had not expected Grace to decline, but all the same, she thought she’d have to offer something more of an explanation. Grace hadn’t even asked why
Wyndham had been in need of assistance. Surely that warranted some curiosity. When had either of them known him to need anything?
They fell silent as they promenaded past Mr. Audley, who looked rather amused at the spectacle they presented.
“Miss Eversleigh,” he murmured. “Lady Amelia.”
“Mr. Audley,” Amelia returned. Grace said the same.
They continued around the room, Amelia picking up the conversation once they were again out of his earshot. “I do hope I do not overstep,” she whispered.
Grace was very silent, and Amelia was well aware that she was asking a great deal in asking her to lie.
They heard footsteps in the hall, and Grace’s entire body jerked toward the door. But it was just a footman, walking by with a large trunk, probably empty, given that he had it perched easily on his shoulder.
“Sorry,” Grace said. “Did you say something?”
Amelia started to repeat her comment, but instead just said, “No.” She’d never seen Grace so distracted.
They continued around the room, taking, as they had the first time, the longest possible perimeter. As they drew close to the door, they heard more footsteps.
“Excuse me,” Grace said, pulling away. She hurried to the open doorway, looked out, and then returned. “It wasn’t the duke,” she said.
Amelia glanced through the open doorway. Two more footmen were moving through the hall, one with a trunk and another with a hatbox.
“Is someone going somewhere?” Amelia asked.
“No,” Grace replied. “Well, I suppose someone might be, but I do not know about it.”
Her voice sounded so abrupt and unsettled that Amelia finally asked, “Grace, are you all right?”
Her head turned, but not far enough for Amelia to see into her eyes. “Oh, no . . . I mean, yes, I’m quite fine.”
Amelia glanced back toward Mr. Audley. He waved.
She turned back to Grace, whose face had flushed to a deep pink.
Which was reason enough to look back at Mr. Audley.
He was looking at Grace. It was true that the two ladies were arm in arm, but it was more than obvious which was the recipient of his sultry gaze.
Grace knew it, too. Her breath caught, and indeed, her whole body stiffened. Amelia felt it tensing through her arm.
And then she was struck with the most marvelous thought.
“Grace,” she whispered, keeping her voice extra low,
“are you in love with Mr. Audley?”
“No!”
Grace’s cheeks, which had begun to return to their normal tone, went right back to crimson. Her refusal had come out quite loudly, and Mr. Audley was regarding them with amused curiosity. Grace smiled weakly, nodded, and said, “Mr. Audley,” even though he couldn’t possibly hear her from where he sat.
“I’ve only just met him,” Grace whispered furiously.
“Yesterday. No, the day before. I can’t recall.”
“You’ve been meeting many intriguing gentlemen lately, have you not?”
Grace turned to her sharply. “Whatever can you mean?”
“Mr. Audley . . . ” Amelia teased. “The Italian highwayman.”
“Amelia!”
“Oh, that’s right, you said he was Scottish. Or Irish.
You weren’t certain.” Amelia caught sight of Mr. Audley just then, and it occurred to her that his accent was very slightly foreign as well. “Where is Mr. Audley from?
He has a bit of a lilt as well.”
“I do not know,” Grace said, rather impatiently, in Amelia’s opinion.
“Mr. Audley,” Amelia called out.
He immediately tilted his head in question.
“Grace and I were wondering where you are from.
Your accent is unfamiliar to me.”
“Ireland, Lady Amelia, a bit north of Dublin.”
“Ireland! My goodness, you are far afield.”
He merely smiled.
The two ladies found themselves back at their original seating area, and so Amelia disconnected her arm from Grace’s and sat down. “How are you enjoying Lincolnshire, Mr. Audley?”
“I find it most surprising.”
“Surprising?” Amelia glanced at Grace to see if she, too, found that answer curious, but Grace was now standing near the door, nervously looking out.
“My visit here has not been what I expected.”
“Really? What did you expect? I assure you, we are quite civilized in this corner of England.”
“Very much so,” he agreed. “More so than is my preference, as a matter of fact.”
“Why, Mr. Audley, whatever can that mean?”
He smiled enigmatically but did not say more, which Amelia found quite out of character. Then it occurred to her that she’d known him but fifteen minutes; how odd that she would find anything out of character.
“Oh,” she heard Grace say, and then: “Excuse me.”
Grace hurried from the room.
Amelia and Mr. Audley looked at each other, and then in unison both turned to the doorway.
Chapter 12
Aside from Harry Gladdish, the man who knew Thomas best was his valet, Grimsby, who had been with the duke since the day he left for university.