She feared the swaying would worsen her condition, but it did not. By the time the carriage pulled up to her home, a cold drizzle was falling, washing out the night in a dreary blur that matched her mood. Grace crept in the back door and trudged up the stairs. Her father’s bedchamber door was open and dark. At first, she thought he must be out at one of the clubs, but then a light snore alerted her to his sleeping form in an armchair by an unlit fireplace.
“Father?” She walked into the room and halted by the chair.
He snorted, then awoke. “Grace?”
“Yes, it’s me. Why are you sleeping in your chair?”
“I called for Stevens. He must not have heard me.”
She helped him to his feet. Alcohol and tobacco wafted from him in waves. She swallowed hard.
If her father wondered why she was fully dressed and wandering the halls in the middle of the night, he stayed silent. She was assailed by a terrible sense of bitterness. Her awful night, combined with his sorry state, made fresh tears well her eyes.
She tugged off his jacket and waistcoat, slipped his cravat from around his neck, then helped him into bed. She thought he’d instantly resume snoring, but he surprised her by grasping her hand.
His eyes watered in his red face. “Ah, Grace. I’m sorry. I never meant for this. It’s just that…that I miss your mother terribly.”
A raw and primitive mix of emotions rushed through her—sympathy, protectiveness…even resentment. They left her drained and exhausted. For the first time, she understood why the baron drowned his sorrows in a bottle. She felt bereft and desolate, without hope.
He touched her cheek, and her anguish almost overcame her control. She wanted to sob for her parent and for all she’d lost in one reckless night.
Her arrangement with Ian was supposed to aid her plight. Instead, she’d made it much, much worse. She waited for her father to close his eyes before she returned to her room. She climbed into her bed, fully clothed, and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
“You have to marry her.” The Countess of Castleton spoke in a low, but firm tone. Her hands were folded in her lap as she sat across from her son.
Ian admired his mother’s outward show of calm, but he wasn’t fooled. Beneath the cool, proper facade, she was bloody furious. “Don’t be unreasonable, Mother.”
“Unreasonable? The girl is ruined.”
He shifted in his chair. Lady Castleton, his mother, sat across from him in his study. Cold. Reserved. Judgmental. “I just explained why Miss Ashton was here.” After weighing his options, he’d decided to tell her the true reason Grace was at his home.
“I thought you retained the services of a family friend, specifically Lord Winton, not a gently bred lady to refresh your manners. The daughter of a baron, no less!”
“You’re the one who insists I attend Lady Crowley’s ball.”
“You cannot possibly think to blame me for this scandal.”
“I did what was most efficient to ensure my success at the ball.”
Her eyes narrowed, the first true sign of her fury. “Efficient! Forget Lady Crowley’s ball. I no longer want, nor expect, you to attend. Your proper entry into Society will be at your wedding.”
He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his leather chair. “No one needs to know about tonight.”
She looked at him as if he were a simpleton. “It’s too late. I saw her. Lady Taddlesworth saw her.” The woman was seated in the drawing room waiting for mother and son to speak in Ian’s study before they joined her.
Meanwhile, Ian had summoned another carriage to take the two women home. They couldn’t leave fast enough in his opinion. His thoughts kept returning to Grace. He could imagine her torment. They’d been caught in an erotic embrace by not one, but two Society matrons. She’d also drunk too much wine and would no doubt feel the ill effects tomorrow.
What was she thinking now? She shouldn’t be alone, shouldn’t have to handle tonight’s troublesome events by herself.
Ian’s gaze narrowed. “Lady Taddlesworth is your friend. Ensure her silence.”
The countess gave a humorless laugh. “No one can ensure anyone’s silence, least of all Lady Taddlesworth’s. She is preparing Ellie and Olivia for their upcoming Seasons so that I could eventually go to my sister in Bath. Lady Taddlesworth is a paragon of propriety and well-respected in Society. She would not be able to keep this secret, even if she truly desired to do so, which she undoubtedly will not.”
Ian’s mind spun as he tried to negotiate a way out of this mess. “Miss Ashton wasn’t here unchaperoned.”
“Oh?”
“My housekeeper is present.”
“Your housekeeper?”
“Yes. A widow. Surely that’s sufficient. Tell Lady Tattletale that she is Grace’s aunt and her chaperone.”
“It’s Lady Taddlesworth, and no, she will not believe such an outrageous tale. It is well after midnight. There is only one reason a young, unmarried lady would be present in a bachelor’s home. Not only is a housekeeper not a proper chaperone, but you forget that Miss Ashton was caught in your heated embrace.”
Damn. If Ian hadn’t been so distracted by Grace, he wouldn’t have opened the front door, but would have gone out the servant’s entrance. He would have heard the carriage, their approaching footsteps, heard something.
At Ian’s silence, she continued. “As the earl, it is your duty to secure the succession by marrying well and producing the next generation of Castleton heirs.”
“I had not planned to marry anyone,” he said irritably.
She ignored him. “I had hoped for you to wed the Duke of Desmond’s daughter, but I am willing to settle with the daughter of a baron.”
“It is not your choice,” he said, his voice terse.
Her lips thinned, her color high. “Oh, but it is. You may recover from such gossip, but Miss Ashton never will. She will be ostracized by Society. Are you that cruel?”
He pictured Grace moments before they were discovered. Her full lips glossy, her blue eyes glazed as she looked up at him and brazenly asked if he would kiss her. Her soft, warm body as she pressed her curves against him.
Christ. He’d wanted to do much more than simply kiss her and touch her. He’d fiercely wanted her naked and writhing beneath him.
He still did.
But Grace was a true lady, and she deserved to be treated as one. She’d met his sisters, and from their brief encounter, she’d learned things about them that he’d never known. Ellie hated the piano but liked to read. She was more like him than he’d realized. Olivia disliked singing but wanted to ride. Maybe she was more like Matthew who always loved to recklessly race his horses. Right to the end of his life. Because of that chance meeting, Grace had changed from having to help him to wanting to help him succeed. Could he throw her to the wolves?
An unfamiliar, heavy feeling constricted in his chest. He knew firsthand how cruel Society could be. But to marry?
“It’s not just Miss Ashton who will suffer the consequences of social ruin,” the countess said. “Ellie and Olivia will be harmed by your actions tonight.”
“You go too far. A scandal will not taint them, only myself and Miss Ashton.”