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

  “Do you like to read?” He turned from her, smiling at her disappointed sigh. “Or, I could teach you to play billiards.”

  “Could you really?” she asked eagerly.

  He crossed to the door which joined the drawing room to the billiards room and opened it. Billiards would be far better than reading. He had told Grace that he was not the sort of gentleman to seduce a lady, and until this moment, he had not been. However, as her face lit with delight, he had to admit to himself that he most certainly planned to seduce Grace. Not so he could have the momentary pleasure of having her in his bed just once, but so he could win her heart and, in so doing, have her always in his bed, in his drawing room, at his table, as his dance partner for as many sets as he wished, in his arms as they stood looking over the park or admiring his garden at Erondale, and forever as his wife.

  Chapter 13

  “You make a charming couple,” Mrs. Love whispered.

  Grace sighed. There were many interesting places where her mother could see and be seen and hear any number of tantalizing tales, but instead of choosing one of those places to be, her mother had decided that the empty seat beside Grace was the perfect place to sit while Felicity danced.

  “Have we any happy news?” Grace completely ignored her mother’s comment about Mr. Blakesley, who had just danced the first set with Grace, and attempted to steer the conversation in a better direction.

  Mrs. Love clucked her tongue. “Not yet, and I cannot imagine what is keeping him from coming to the point.”

  “He knows about Mr. Everett Clayton, you know,” Grace ducked her head close to her mother’s ear. “Perhaps he is just being cautious?”

  “How can he doubt her regard? Look at her.” Mrs. Love motioned toward the floor with her fan. “She is smitten, simply smitten. Can you not see it in how she looks at him?”

  Grace squinted her eyes and studied, really studied, her older sister but to no avail. She had seen Felicity look at Mr. Everett Clayton in that same way.

  “One does not look so at a suitor unless one is hoping for an offer,” Mrs. Love added.

  One did if one was Felicity. No, that was not entirely true, Grace corrected. Her sister had wished for an offer from Mr. Everett Clayton until she had found something more to her liking.

  “How do you know it is not just an act?”

  “An act?” her mother repeated in surprise.

  “Need I remind you that Felicity was smitten at Heathcote and remained so until the second day of the Abernathy’s house party when Mr. Ramsey spoke to her.”

  The statement was met with a great exhalation of breath from Mrs. Love. “A mother knows,” she answered.

  Grace schooled her eyebrows to remain immobile rather than arching skeptically as they wished to do. “How precisely does a mother know?”

  “I am certain I cannot distill it, but there is feeling.” She laid her hand on her heart. “Your sister is more attached this time. I just know she is. There was a hesitance about Mr. Everett Clayton. I never once saw her smile wistfully while stitching as if she was thinking of Mr. Everett Clayton, but she does now. And when I asked her about it just yesterday, she sighed and said, ‘Is he not the most perfect gentleman?’”

  Grace was not completely convinced, but she was willing, upon hearing such a story, to allow that it might be possible for her sister to be, at long last, irrevocably attached to a gentleman. However, for herself, she would only be satisfied when she saw Felicity standing at the altar repeating her vows.

  “I dare say you would not say Mr. Ramsey is the perfect gentleman.”

  Grace looked at her mother in feigned astonishment. “How do you mean?”

  “Oh, come now, Grace. I would venture that Mr. Blakesley is a trifle more perfect in your estimation. You were looking very content to be dancing with him.”

  “He is a friend. How could one not feel content while dancing with a friend?”

  Her mother tipped her head and pursed her lips. It was a sure sign that she did not believe a word Grace was saying. And that was not good for Grace’s scheme. Therefore, without much thought beyond needing to keep her ruse going and Mr. Blakesley safe from Felicity, she continued, “However, I do see your meaning now, and I would have to agree.”

  Her mother smiled smugly.

  “Mr. Norman is far superior to Mr. Ramsey.” She sighed for effect. “It really is too bad he was not here to dance the first set as he had promised. But one cannot predict, with any great deal of accuracy, when someone is going to fall ill.”

  “Mr. –” Her mother huffed as if she could not even bear to speak Mr. Norman’s name. “Really, Grace. You cannot be serious. I do not know why you insist upon pursuing such a fellow. He seems an honorable sort of gentleman, I will give you that. But, Grace, your father and I did not send you to school to become a physician’s wife! You will cease this foolishness.”

  “It is not foolishness,” Grace insisted but her mother would not hear any explanation.

  Instead, she rose. “I will find your father. See that your sister does not come to ruin in my absence.”

  Grace grabbed her mother’s hand before she could leave. “You do not need to get Father. I admire Mr. Norman greatly, but I am not yet set on him.”

  Her mother looked down at Grace. “You are not?”

  Grace shook her head. “I have not even entered this season yet. I am only participating in soirees at my hosts’ behest. How could I be settled on a gentleman when I am not truly partaking in the season?”

  Her mother did not look convinced. Grace held her breath, waiting to know what her mother would do. Telling fibs to her mother was one thing – one easily done thing – but telling even the smallest untruth to her father was excessively challenging, especially if one wished for him to believe the falsehood. Her father was more astute than her mother. An explanation such as she had just given to her mother would likely be met with a…

  “You had a season last year. However, that is neither here nor there for one does not have to be part of any season ever to marry. It is not as if parliament has amended the marriage act to include the necessity of a season.”

  And he would be right. She did not need a season to tell her where she hoped her heart lay. And that was precisely why she needed her mother to not get her father. None of her family needed to know that her heart was quite likely more attached to a gentleman than Felicity’s would ever be. The thought of Mr. Blakesley preferring Felicity was an annoying thought to Grace at the start of her scheme. However, at this very moment, such a thought caused her heart to ache and tears to gather.

  “I wish to hear naught else about him,” her mother demanded.

  “I cannot not speak about a friend. He calls on my hosts. I must be allowed to speak about him.”

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “There will be no sighing over him or talk about being his wife.”

  Grace’s brow furrowed. How was she going to dissuade her mother from pushing her at Mr. Blakesley if she did not have Mr. Norman to play his part in pretending to court her?

  “But what if I find I truly do wish to be his wife. It is possible.”

  “You will not. It is not allowed.”

  “You cannot decree where a heart will find its desire,” Grace argued.

  “I believe I just did,” her mother replied in that tone which said that to say anything other than “Yes, Mother” would be met with some sort of punishment.

  “Yes, Mother,” Grace dutifully replied. “I will do my best not to sigh over Mr. Norman or think of him as a suitor, though he will be greatly disappointed, and I do so hate to be the cause of disappointment. It is too bad there are no convents to which I could be sent for I fear if disappointing gentlemen is to be part of gaining a husband, I am not sure I wish to find a husband.”

  Her mother huffed. “Do not be dramatic, Grace. Dramatics are your sister’s domain.”

  “It is true, though. I do not like being a disappointment.”

  “Then,
do not set your cap at Mr. Norman and consider Mr. Blakesley instead, and you shall not disappoint me.”

  “Mr. Blakesley is not free,” Grace protested.

  “He does not appear very attached to his lady. He has done a great deal of watching you.”

  “Mother,” Grace scolded.

  “Just be polite and charming and allow him to chose for himself. I am not asking that you fling yourself at him.”

  “I will be his friend. I will not do more.”

  Her mother’s smile was self-satisfied. “That should suffice.”

  And with that, she left Grace sitting alone on her bench until a lady, who had been standing behind them, took the seat vacated by Grace’s mother.

  “I did not know Mr. Blakesley had a lady,” Grace’s new bench mate said. “Indeed, I have never seen him with any lady in particular in all the time I have been in Bath.”

  “Oh, she is not from Bath.” Grace’s stomach twisted at the idea of spreading gossip about Walter.

  “I do not see how she could not be. I do not believe Mr. Blakesley has been gone from Bath for these past six months.” She leaned a bit closer to Grace. “Not even at Christmas time. His parents came here.” She clucked her tongue. “If he has told you he has a lady somewhere other than in Bath, he has not been honest with you.” She sighed. “And I find it difficult to believe he would be so deceptive.”

  Grace turned startled eyes toward her companion who seemed to know Walter quite well.

  “Mrs. King,” the lady said by way of introduction and then waited for Grace to introduce herself before continuing. “Mr. Blakesley helped me find a home in Bath last summer, and he introduced me to Mr. Norman, who has taken prodigiously good care of me.” She patted Grace’s knee. “You would not go wrong setting your cap at such a fine fellow. Mr. Blakesley and I are good friends. He visits me at least once a week.” Again, she leaned close to Grace and said softly. “I suspect it is for my cook’s apple cake, but I like to think it is my company which brings him to my door.”

  “Oh, I am sure it is your company. He would never be so crass as to visit you only for sweets,” Grace rushed to assure the lady at her side.

  Mrs. King laughed lightly. “Which, Miss Grace, is precisely why he cannot have a lady anywhere but in Bath.”

  “Could he not have met someone here and kept up a correspondence?”

  “It is possible, but I do think I would have heard about her.”

  Grace did not know how to respond to such a thing. “Have you met my friends?” Changing the topic of conversation would likely be a good thing.

  Mrs. King looked past her to where Bea sat. “No, I have not.”

  “Mrs. King, this is Mrs. Clayton. She is my cousin with whom I am staying. Her husband, who is next to her, is a friend of Mr. Blakesley. Bea, this is Mrs. King, whom I have just met.”

  “Ah!” Mrs. King clapped her hands in delight. “You have leased Erondale, have you not?”

  “Yes,” Bea replied.

  “And have you found it to your liking?”

  “Very much so.”

  “I have heard about you. Such a lovely man Mr. Blakesley is.” She leaned close to Grace. “You’d not go wrong setting your cap at him. Your mother is not wrong about that.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Shelton are also staying at Erondale,” Grace added, for she did not know what else to say. “They are currently dancing.”

  “As is my niece. See her there – in the light blue with Mr. Baily — the short blond gentleman?”

  Grace turned her eyes toward the dancers and sought out a lady in light blue who was dancing with a short fellow. It took a minute or two as the partners were separated and then reunited by the dance.

  “She is very pretty.” A trifle older looking than most of the ladies who were dancing. In fact, she looked at least as old as Mr. Baily.

  “She has come to keep me company since she has not yet taken.”

  “Oh.” She was a companion?

  “However, I will not call her my companion,” Mrs. King whispered. “Her father would, but my brother has never been good with words or a lady’s feelings. He is more of a facts and figures sort of person.”

  Mrs. King was certainly a talkative sort of woman, but she seemed rather nice despite that fact. After all, Mr. Blakesley was her friend.

  “Is your niece very old then?” Grace whispered.

  “Seven and twenty.”

  Grace gasped.

  “She is rather firmly on the shelf if I cannot find her a match.” Mrs. King chuckled. “I think that is truly why her father sent her to me. I have been known to make some very good matches.” She looked Grace up and down. “You really should consider Mr. Blakesley. I do believe you would suit quite nicely. As for Mr. Norman?” She shook her head. “You need someone more attentive.”

  “Oh, but he is attentive.”

  Mrs. King’s brows rose. “When he is present, he is, but how often is he not present?”

  Grace shrugged.

  “You would grow lonely. That would never be the case with Mr. Blakesley.” She winked at Grace. “Do not be afraid to consider it. I promise I will not say a word to your mother.” She chuckled. “I remember when my mother was pushing me at this gentleman and that.” She smoothed her skirt. “In fact, there was this one time…”

  Grace could see why Walter only visited Mrs. King once a week. The woman was an excellent storyteller, and as the second song of the set began, meaning that Mrs. King’s niece would not be coming to collect her any time soon, Grace had to admit that a cup of tea and a slice of apple cake would be a rather perfect complement to her story.

  Chapter 14

  “Are you watching my sister?”

  Walter turned toward Felicity with the idea to put her off with a partially truthful answer, but he had no more than opened his mouth than her mother was answering for him.

  “I dare say he is. Why would he not be?”

  “Actually, I was noticing that Mrs. King has made an appearance at tonight’s soiree, which means her niece must have arrived. She does not attend assemblies on her own account. She is more of a theatre or concert-going lady.”

  “Who is Mrs. King?” Mrs. Love inquired.

  “She is the lady sitting with Miss Grace.” Walter’s answer earned him a pleased smile from Grace’s mother. “I should go give her my greetings since we are good friends.”

  “Are you certain that is the reason you wish to go over there?” There was a note of teasing in Mrs. Love’s question.

  “Yes.” It was one reason he wished to cross the room. The other reason had to do with preferring to be with Grace rather than her sister.

  “Are you engaged for the next dance?” Mrs. Love asked as Felicity batted her lashes.

  “No,” Walter replied, “nor do I plan to be. There is a cardroom which is, no doubt, missing my presence, although I may have to do my duty in regard to Mrs. King’s niece as I did promise to dance with her at least once after her arrival. It seemed the least I could do to help the girl settle into her new surroundings.” As he smiled at a somewhat affronted looking Felicity, his eye caught Grace’s attention on him.

  “If you will excuse me.” He gave Felicity and her mother a bow and made his escape.

  “I say, Blakesley,” Roger said as Walter joined him and his wife, who had just completed their set, “Miss Love is looking daggers at you.”

  “Yes, I suppose she is.”

  Roger leaned toward him. “What did you do?”

  “It is what I did not do,” Walter replied. “I did not ask her to dance as she and her mother seemed to wish for me to do.”

  “Indeed?” A pleased smirk settled on Roger’s mouth. “Is that all?”

  “No,” Walter replied. “I also mentioned needing to do my duty in standing up with Mrs. King’s niece despite my desire to find the card room.”

  Roger let out a low whistle.

  Walter shrugged. “I do not intend on ever dancing with Miss Love.”


  “Is there a reason?” Mrs. Shelton asked.

  Walter nodded. “The evening when I first met Miss Grace, she asked me not to dance with her sister.”

  Mrs. Shelton sighed just a bit as a smile lit her face.

  He took two steps away from the Sheltons. “Mrs. King,” he greeted.

  “Mr. Blakesley. How good it is to see you! I was just beginning to despair that you might be too tangled up in willing young dance partners to see me.”

  “What? Never say you thought so,” Walter replied in the same playful fashion in which Mrs. King’s comment was made. She was wearing her teasing grin – the one she always wore when mentioning his lack of a wife and her desire to help him remedy such a blight.

  “I have made a new friend in your absence.” Her brows waggled at him. “She was telling me that you have a lady of whom you have not told me.”

  Mortification settled over Grace’s features.

  “Well,” Walter said, “that is because it is a new arrangement.”

  Mrs. King’s eye narrowed with suspicion.

  “And I did not know until very recently how such a thing might progress. Therefore, I could not tell you about it.”

  Mrs. King looked slightly mollified. “I should hope you intended to tell me.”

  “Oh, most certainly.” He would tell anyone who would listen, as soon as Grace came to trust him enough to allow him to openly court her.

  “I understand she is not from Bath.”

  “No, she is not,” Walter answered truthfully. “She is from Kent, though she is not there at present as her family is travelling.” He was pleased to see amusement in Grace’s eyes.

  “It would be lovely if they were to come to Bath,” Mrs. King said, giving Walter a pointed look, “so that I might meet her.”

  “That would be lovely,” Walter agreed before adding, “I think you would like her.”

  “Well, if she is anything like Miss Grace, here, I know I would. I would suggest you ask my new friend to dance, but I understand you have already done so.” Her lips curled up into that teasing smile again. “However there is no law or stricture saying you cannot ask Miss Grace for a second dance.”