Accidental Fiancee by Mary Moore Read Free Book Online Page B

excuse of your need to be properly outfitted, but I do not know how long I can keep my sisters tethered. I will put the announcement in the papers tomorrow and will write to your father first thing in the morning. If you need me in the meantime, just send a message to my house in Grosvenor Square.”
    He stepped away from the carriage once again and walked back to Grace. He leaned down close and whispered, “Try to keep from rescuing any other poor unsuspecting souls until you hear from me.” He then entered the carriage, tapped the ceiling with his cane, and he was gone before she could say a word.
    Upon entering her home, Grace found their ancient London butler waiting patiently for her to enter as the trunks were brought in by the footmen. “Welcome to London, my lady,” Jamison said in his stateliest manner. “Lady Lydia has already joined your aunt in the drawing room. If you will permit me to take your cloak and hat, you may join them there while I send for the tea tray.”
    “Jamison, you always know just what the situation calls for. It is good to see you again, too.”
    Grace had not been to the town house in almost two years and realized she had forgotten how beautiful it was. Her mother had done the interior decor, and since her father rarely left Pennington Abbey now, everything remained much the same. Her mother had used several of the antique tapestries she so loved to adorn the entry hall. They struck awe and drew the eye upward for closer inspection.
    Grace always thought it the most spectacular room in the house, with the tapestries and the Baccarat crystal chandelier from the seventeenth century. But, of course, the best piece by far was Max. When she was very little, she’d been almost afraid of the intimidating full suit of armor. But as she got older, her love for him grew. Right now, he was a welcome sight. “How are you, Max?” she said aloud. “Have you missed me, my knight?” she whispered.
    Grace looked around and wished she were here as Lydia’s chaperone, as she’d planned, rather than as the betrothed of London’s most notable rake. And she wished more than anything that she did not have to deceive her aunt and her father. Would that it were not so important for Lydia. But it was too late to repine now, so she turned to the drawing room to keep her aunt from having to search for her.
    She crossed the threshold and stopped to take in the room and the two women seated on the divan. She had forgotten how beautiful this room was, as well, done in subtle shades of rose. With the fire and the candles, the atmosphere was warm and inviting. For a moment she was sad that her mother was not here.
    Her aunt, still regal for her fifty-some years, was dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief and holding Lydia’s hand. She rose quickly at Grace’s entrance and hurried to embrace her.
    “What a watering pot I have become, and you know I am usually no such thing. Stand back and let me look at you. I am afraid my tears started when I saw how much Lydia looks like your mother.”
    “I understand completely, Aunt Aggie. It is hard not to miss her when we are here.” Grace received and returned a loving embrace. Her aunt always smelled of rose water and lavender. It made her feel at home.
    Grace knew why Aunt Aggie had insisted upon her help to chaperone Lydia. Just as Grace believed Lydia was wasted in Essex, so Agatha believed Grace herself was. She had no doubt Aunt Aggie planned some husband shopping for her, as well. At least this fantastic tale concerning Lord Weston would put a stop to that. She knew her aunt still had hopes for her. But Aunt Aggie would
not
understand. Grace wanted love. She wanted a marriage like her parents had; they had shared everything. But at six and twenty, she doubted she would meet such a man.
    Her aunt placed her hand in the crook of Grace’s arm and led her to the chair in front of the fireplace, across from Lydia.
    “The thing we need to do in London, girls, is