Her Secret Beau: A Touches 0f Austen Novel Bok 3 Read online

  “Oh, he made it very clear that he did not wish to dance with me.”

  The bitter edge to Felicity’s tone made Grace smile just a bit more broadly.

  “Mother will be delighted to hear she does not need to worry about Mr. Norman.”

  Grace gasped. “No! You must not tell her. Not yet.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “I have to tell Walter first.”

  Felicity’s eyes grew wide. “Walter? Has he given you leave to call him by his Christian name?”

  She would have to give herself a very stern lecture later about thinking before speaking. “Yes, but only in private.”

  “Oh,” her sister cried eagerly, “there is so much you must tell me.”

  “No, there is not. I have told you all I am going to tell you.”

  “I am afraid, dear sister, that, if you do not wish for me to tell Mother about your declaration, there is more you must share with me.”

  Grace closed her eyes and sighed. She should have known Felicity would dangle that in front of her. Felicity was, after all, very adept at getting what she wanted.

  “Very well, I will tell you a bit more, but not right now. I must speak to Mr. Blakesley first.”

  “I believe Mother wished to call at Erondale tomorrow, perhaps I will join her.”

  “What about Mr. Ramsey’s private call?”

  Her sister’s lips pursed with displeasure while Grace felt rather smug for having thwarted Felicity’s plan. Of course, there might not be a need for a private conversation between Felicity and Mr. Ramsey once Mr. Ramsey’s duplicity was revealed — later. Much later. Not here. Not now. For here and now, she would pretend that she had not seen what she saw.

  Chapter 16

  Walter took a turn of the cardroom before proceeding out of it and toward the entryway. Ahead of him, Grace seemed to be pulling her sister along, and from the expression on Grace’s face, it was not because she was excited to show something of interest to her sister. It looked very much as if Grace was excessively put out with Felicity.

  Despite the tantalizing intrigue posed by Grace and her sister, he ducked into the tearoom to see if his friend was there.

  As fortune would have it, he was. Norman was sitting at a far table, doing his best not to be pulled into any conversation.

  Norman glanced up as Walter joined him. “I cannot leave Bath. I will not. However, I must find someone to recommend to Mrs. King in my stead.”

  “I do not think you need to do either.”

  Norman leaned forward. “Her niece is Belle.”

  Walter nodded. “I know. I figured that out.”

  “Then, you know precisely why I must not continue my care of Mrs. King.”

  “No, I do not know.”

  Was Norman actually glowering at him? This was not the calm, rarely-ruffled-until-Walter-had-pushed-him-too-far friend with whom Walter was acquainted. But then, loss of love and having that loss tossed in front of a gentleman unawares would likely have an unnerving effect on anyone.

  “Miss Chapman is lovely.”

  “I know.” The words rumbled from his friend, causing Walter’s eyebrows to lift.

  “We had a very pleasant, if short and somewhat halting, discussion during our dance.”

  The comment was met with a small huff and narrowed eyes.

  “It seems her family is not so large as it used to be.”

  There. Surprise and curiosity. Those were much more welcome expressions on Norman’s face.

  “A certain brother died.”

  Norman blinked. “Died?”

  Walter nodded. “I believe she said it was a bit more than a year ago, and from the sounds of things, it was sudden.”

  “It matters not. Her father will still not approve of someone like me. Was it an accident?”

  Walter shrugged. “I did not ask. My apologies.”

  Norman shook his head. “I do not need to know. It changes nothing.”

  “She is seven and twenty. She does not need her father’s approval.” He held Norman’s gaze and watched his friend wilt from anger to sadness.

  “I cannot.”

  “Why?”

  “It would create a gulf between her and her family. I cannot do that.”

  “You do not know that.” Walter held up a hand to stop Norman’s protest. “You think you know that, but until you talk to the lady, you cannot know that.”

  “I am not you, Blakesley.”

  “And a good thing that is. I am not sure that Bath could survive as well as it does without your unique ability to care for one and all.”

  “You care for people, too. Do not even attempt to tell me that you do not have a fondness for half the people in Bath. How many of them know you by name and sing your praises?”

  “Nearly as many as know and praise you.”

  “That is not the point,” Norman protested.

  “I believe it is.”

  Norman pushed up from his seat. “Miss Grace, Miss Love, is all well?”

  “Perfectly well.” Miss Love’s eyes seemed to be dancing with merriment. Walter was uncertain if that was a good thing or as dreadful as he imagined it might be. “I believe my sister was looking for you, Mr. Blakesley.”

  Grace’s eyes closed, and she shook her head but only just. Did she not wish to see him?

  “Then, she is in luck as you have found me – not that I was hiding, of course.” He rose and offered a chair to Miss Love.

  “No, no. I will sit beside Mr. Norman.”

  There was a gleefulness to the comment that unsettled him.

  “I was on my way to see Mr. and Mrs. Clayton.” Grace looked pointedly at her sister while Walter helped her with her chair.

  “And we are still on our way, but there is that bit of information I so wish to know.”

  “I am not telling you here.”

  “Oh, well, of course not. We would take a turn of the corridor.”

  “I meant here in this building.”

  It seemed as if Grace was still put out by her sister.

  “We could all take a stroll,” Felicity suggested.

  “No!” Grace snapped.

  “I would not be opposed to it,” Walter said softly.

  “I would be.”

  “You would?” Did she need to be so adamant in her attempt to make it appear as if she cared for no one but Norman?

  “Yes, I would. I should like very much to be returned to my party.”

  “I will not detain you.” If she was in such a hurry to be away from him, then he was not going to stop her.

  She melted a bit, her shoulders slumping forward while her head drooped.

  “It is not that I do not wish to speak with you. It is just that I do not wish for my cousin to worry.”

  The corner of her lower lip was drawn between her teeth. Something was not right with her.

  Walter stood. “I insist. I am in need of some air, and do not wish to escort myself.”

  She turned wide eyes to him and shook her head ever so slightly.

  “If you will not accompany me, then perhaps your sister would?” He smiled at Felicity.

  “If I must.” Felicity batted her lashes, but not at him. The expression was directed at her sister.

  “Oh, very well.” Grace stood. “I will accompany Mr. Blakesley for a short stroll of the corridor. However, I am still not telling you anything tonight,” she added to her sister.

  Miss Love did not look as if she believed what Grace had said, but she was delighted when Walter offered Grace his arm and it was accepted.

  “I will be right here with Mr. Norman,” Felicity said as they were leaving the table.

  “I would rather that she would go back to my mother,” Grace grumbled.

  “I take it you are displeased with your sister?”

  “Not as much as I am with myself and Mr. Ramsey.”

  That was not the response he had expected. But then, Grace was a rather interesting and surprising young woman. “What hav
e you and Mr. Ramsey done?”

  “I saw Mr. Ramsey with some lady down the passage that leads to the carriages, and so I told my sister I love you. I could not let her see Mr. Ramsey, after all.”

  Walter stopped walking. “I am not certain I heard that correctly.”

  “Mr. Ramsey was down there –” She waved her hand toward the carriage entrance.

  “Not that part,” Walter stopped her. “Though I am curious about that. You love me?”

  “Yes, and my sister knows. Therefore, our scheme is at an end, for I am certain she is incapable of keeping such a thing hidden from my mother and once my mother knows…” She sighed. “Everyone will know.”

  “And why is this a problem?” Her lip was between her teeth again and her eyes were lowered.

  “I will not have you all to myself.”

  He had to lean towards her to hear what she said.

  “I do not wish to have our secret discovered. It is so lovely and private when just we and a few others knew.”

  “Do you still fear that I will fall prey to your sister’s charms?” Was that the real reason why she did not wish to have others know?

  She shook her head. “You did not dance with her tonight. She said she attempted to get you to ask her.”

  “Of course, I did not dance with her. You asked me not to,” he replied. Why could she not have declared her love for him when they were at his townhouse playing billiards? Why did it have to be in a busy corridor at the Upper Rooms?

  “I did?”

  He nodded. “When we first met and you refused to dance with me in favor of dancing with Norman.”

  She blinked. “I did, did I not?”

  “Yes, and I do not break my promises.”

  “But you did not promise me that you would not dance with her.” Her brow was furrowed.

  “Did I not nod and smile at you when you were lining up with Mr. Norman?”

  Her lips pursed as she thought. “You did!”

  “That was my promise,” he said. “And I will never break a promise I have made to you. Even if I found your sister charming – which I do not — I would not break it.”

  How he wanted to take her in his arms. She was wearing that compelling look of longing she had worn the day he had traced her silhouette at Erondale.

  “Now, about Mr. Ramsey.” A change of subject might make things a trifle easier. Or so he hoped.

  “You really do not find Felicity charming?”

  Walter shook his head.

  Her lashes fluttered as delight overtook her features. “That may be the thing I love most about you, Mr. Blakesley.”

  “About Mr. Ramsey,” Walter tried again. As much as he wished to stand here and discuss her love for him, here was not a safe place to do so. For such a conversation would make it a great deal more challenging to not kiss her, and, as it was, he was struggling with wanting to do just that.

  “He was in the corridor with a lady. They were standing very close – closer than we are – and her hands were on his jacket.” She glanced to her right and then back at him. “If we were in the garden at Erondale, I would show you.”

  He was beginning to understand why Grace was so despondent about their scheme being found out. It would be likely that such secret and intimate moments would be a thing of the past for some time – at least until he could marry her.

  “I do not know who that lady was. I have never seen her at any of the soirees I have attended, but then, I have not attended very many.”

  “I should speak to your father.”

  “About Mr. Ramsey?”

  Walter shook his head. “I apologize. I was thinking about being alone in the garden with you and not fully attending to what you were saying.”

  Her smile was enchanting. The sooner he spoke to her father the better.

  “We should likely take you back and save Mr. Norman from your sister, and then, I will take a roam around the place and see if I can find out anything about Mr. Ramsey and his mysterious lady.”

  “Will you?”

  “For you, I will.” He barely refrained from lifting her fingers to his lips.

  “Oh, Miss Grace.”

  Walter turned to find Mrs. King approaching them.

  “What a delight to find you here and with Mr. Blakesley.” There was that teasing note to her voice once again. “Annabelle and I were just getting some air and contemplating going home.”

  “So soon?” Grace asked.

  “It seems the evening has lost its sheen.”

  “That is unfortunate.”

  “Indeed, it is, Mr. Blakesley. I have not even had the opportunity to question you about your secret courtship with some lady from – where was she from?”

  “She is from Kent,” Walter answered. “My secret angel is from Kent. And,” he added, “now that I am at liberty to do so, I will tell you all about her someday when I call.”

  “I should hope you will. I had not thought you so secretive.”

  “Normally, I am not. However, the young lady asked me to be, and I can deny her nothing.”

  Mrs. King tilted her head and smiled at him as a proud mother might gaze upon a child who had done something of merit.

  “Now, see, Miss Grace, this is why I thought you should set your cap at him instead of Mr. Norman.” She shrugged. “But, it seems you were correct, and he is not free.”

  No, he was not free. His heart was irrevocably gone both now and forever.

  “I still would not have you set your cap at Mr. Norman,” Mrs. King was instructing Grace as Miss Chapman looked ill beside her aunt.

  “I do not plan to,” Grace assured her, and Miss Chapman expelled a breath as if she was relieved.

  It seemed there was a great deal of hope for Norman to finally gain the lady as his own — if Norman could be made to see reason, that is.

  “I believe we would be more than delighted to have you call on us, Miss Grace. My Annabelle is in need of some good friends.”

  “I would like nothing better.”

  Walter could hear the excitement in Grace’s voice and knew that she was more than delighted by the idea of calling on Mrs. King and her niece. “We could call together,” he suggested. “If your cousin would join us, that is, Miss Grace.”

  Mrs. King’s head pulled back in surprise. “But would that not make your lady uneasy to hear you are making calls with a lady as pretty as Miss Grace?”

  “I think she could tolerate it.”

  Mrs. King did not look convinced. Therefore, after he had excused himself to see Grace back to her party but before he had actually removed himself completely from Mrs. King’s presence, he leaned near her ear as he passed her and whispered, “Miss Grace is from Kent.”

  Chapter 17

  “Grace. Grace. You must wake up.”

  Was that her mother? Grace popped one eye open just far enough to see her mother sitting on the side of the bed with Bea standing in her robe behind her.

  Grace yawned. “What time is it?” Had she slept until calling hours? Last night had been tiring in a wonderful sort of way so it was possible that she had slept far longer than was her normal wont, though she did feel a great deal more tired than she would expect to feel if it was late enough for calling hours.

  “It is six o’clock,” Bea answered.

  No, she had not slept late. It was indeed as early as it felt. She closed her eyes.

  “Why are you here, Mama?”

  “Something has happened. It is most dreadful. I do not know how I have managed not to succumb to the horror of it, but I knew I must get you before I could think about myself.”

  Drowsiness fled and Grace propped herself up on her elbows. “What has happened? Is someone ill?”

  “We must go home immediately.”

  Grace sat up. Her heart was racing. “Why? What has happened? Tell me what has happened.”

  Mrs. Love wrung her hands together – which Grace noticed were not gloved. Her mother never left her house without a pair of
gloves on her hands. Something was most certainly wrong.

  “Mr. Ramsey has…” She leaned toward Grace and lowered her voice. “He has quit Bath and abandoned your sister.”

  No! He could not have. She could not believe it. Not after what Felicity had told her. “But he asked Father to speak to Felicity in private.”

  “Yes, yes, he did. We were all so certain he was going to make her an offer, but then…” She covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. “When we arrived home from the ball, there was a note awaiting us which said he would not be able to call tomorrow. Well, Felicity wished to know why, as is natural — I am sure I wished to know, too — so, your sister sent a note to him asking for his reason. However, no reply was forthcoming. The messenger was told that the master was not available to give a reply. Your father and I figured it was because of the lateness of the hour, and we would discover what we needed to know on the morrow.” She rose from her perch on the bed. “Your sister was not satisfied, and after we all went to bed, she… Oh, it is too dreadful.”

  “May I get you a glass of wine?” Bea offered as she led Mrs. Love to a chair.

  “No, no. I will be well as soon as we are gone from this dreadful place. I shall never wish to see Bath again. Oh, what are we to do?”

  “Shall I call for your husband?” Bea asked.

  Mrs. Love shook her head. “It is a mother’s job to speak of these things.”

  Grace was out of bed and kneeling beside her mother. “You are frightening me, Mama. Please, tell me what has happened. What did Felicity do?”

  “You know how impatient your sister can be.”

  Yes, Grace was well aware of Felicity’s desire to have or know things immediately.

  “Oh, she is ruined!” Mrs. Love cried.

  “How is she ruined?” Grace begged. Her mother could be so trying at times!

  “She went to the rooms he is renting.”

  Was Felicity mad?

  “By herself?” Grace asked.

  Her mother nodded.

  Of all the stupid things to do!

  “In the middle of the night?” Grace asked.

  Again, her mother nodded. “It seems it was not the first time she has done so.”